FDR - Jean Edward Smith [92]
Long before the United States entered the war, Wilson had asked Daniels, “Why don’t the British shut up the hornets in their nests? They are hunting hornets all over the farm and letting the nest alone.”23 The British had investigated but rejected the idea of constructing an antisubmarine barrier across the North Sea: the distance was too great, the water too deep, the undersea mine too unreliable a weapon, and the cost prohibitive. But Roosevelt persisted, and by October 1917 the Navy had developed a mine that did not require physical contact but could be detonated when a long, electrified antenna was brushed by a metal object. This meant that far fewer mines would be required than originally estimated and could be linked more easily. On October 3, on his own initiative, FDR authorized the manufacture of 100,000 of the modified mines. Daniels signed on, and Wilson, who despaired of London’s unwillingness to try anything new, added his formal approval two weeks later.24 Daniels ordered Admiral Henry T. Mayo, commander in chief of the Atlantic Fleet, to London for the sole purpose of obtaining British approval, and under Mayo’s unrelenting advocacy the Admiralty acquiesced. As FDR put it, the sea lords said, “We think your plan is a bit wild-eyed but go ahead if you want.”25
In February 1918 a special convoy of two dozen vessels sailed for Scotland with 11,000 tons of TNT, 50,000 feet of wire cable, and casings for nearly 100,000 mines. The actual mining commenced in June, and by October some 70,000 mines had been sown at a cost of $80 million.26 The war ended before the barrage could be fully tested, but at least four and possibly eight U-boats are thought to have been destroyed by it. Other estimates run as high as twenty-three.27 Admiral Sims called the barrier “one of the wonders of the war” and partially credits it with the collapse of the German Navy’s morale, but the evidence is sketchy.28
Joseph P. Kennedy, perhaps an unlikely source, testifies to FDR’s decisiveness during the war. Kennedy was then assistant manager of Bethlehem Steel’s Fore River shipyard in Quincy, Massachusetts. At the request of the Navy Department, the Fore River yard had constructed two battleships for Argentina. The ships were ready, but the Argentine government was unable to pay, and Charles Schwab, the legendary chairman of Bethlehem, refused to release them. FDR requested a meeting, and Schwab sent Kennedy to Washington in his place.
Franklin received Kennedy cordially. “Don’t worry about the matter,” he said reassuringly. “The State Department will collect the money.”
Kennedy said that wasn’t good enough. Mr. Schwab would not release the ships until they were paid for. “That’s absurd,” FDR replied. He and Kennedy sparred a few rounds, and then Roosevelt escorted his guest to the door. He had been happy to meet Kennedy, he said, but the Navy wanted the ships released immediately. Again Kennedy declined.
When Kennedy reported the conversation to Schwab, they agreed to ignore Roosevelt’s demand, and the battleships remained securely berthed in Quincy. Less than a week later, four Navy tugboats nosed into the Fore River yard, loaded to the gunwales with combat-ready marines. As startled shipyard workers looked on, the marines took possession of the vessels at bayonet point and towed them into the harbor, where Argentine crews waited to receive them. A chastened Kennedy stood by helpless. “Roosevelt was the hardest trader I’d ever run up against,” he said later. “I was so disappointed I broke down and cried.”29
In 1917 the courtship between Tammany and FDR intensified. As assistant secretary, FDR was well placed to reward the Democratic faithful, especially those members of Congress with Navy yards in their district, and particularly someone as powerful as the Brooklyn-based chairman of the House Appropriations Committee, John J. Fitzgerald—who also happened to be Tammany’s spokesman in the House. Franklin was learning the subtleties of congressional politics,