Practicing History_ Selected Essays - Barbara W. Tuchman [159]
Courage, according to the Maréchal de Saxe, is the first of all qualities. “Without it,” as he says undeniably, “the others are of little value since they cannot be used.” I think “courage” is too simple a word. The concept must include both physical and moral courage, for there are some people who have the former without the latter, and that is not enough for generalship. Indeed, physical courage must also be joined by intelligence, for, as a Chinese proverb puts it, “A general who is courageous and stupid is a calamity.” Physical, combined with moral, courage makes the possessor resolute, and I would take issue with De Saxe and say that the primary quality is resolution. That is what enables a man to prevail—over circumstances, over subordinates, over allies, and eventually over the enemy. It is the determination to win through, whether in the worst circumstance merely to survive or in a limited situation to complete the mission, but, whatever the circumstance, to prevail. It is this will to prevail, I think, that is the sine qua non of military action. If a man has it, he will also have, or he will summon from somewhere, the courage to support it. But he could be brave as a lion and still fail if he lacks the necessary will.
Will was what Stilwell had, the absolute, unbreakable, unbendable determination to fulfill the mission no matter what the obstacles, the antagonists, or the frustrations. When the road that he fought to cut through Burma at last reached China, after his recall, a message from his successor recognized that the first convoy to make the overland passage, though Stilwell wasn’t there to see it, was the product of “your indomitable will.”
Sensible men will say that will must be schooled by judgment lest it lead to greater investment of effort or greater sacrifice than the object is worth, or to blind persistence in an objective whose very difficulties suggest it was a mistake from the start. That is true enough; good judgment is certainly one among the essentials of generalship, perhaps the most essential, according to the naval historian Raymond O’Connor. He quotes C. P. Snow’s definition of judgment as “the ability to think of many matters at once, in their interdependence, their related importance, and their consequences.” Judgment may not always be that rational, but more intuitive, based on a feel of the situation combined with experience.
Sometimes judgment will counsel boldness, as when Admiral Nimitz, against the advice of every admiral and general in his command, insisted on assaulting Kwajalein, site of the Japanese Headquarters at the very heart of the Marshall archipelago, although this meant leaving the enemy-held outer islands on the American line of communications. In the event, American planes were able to keep the outer islands pounded down, while Kwajalein proved relatively undefended because the Japanese, thinking along the same lines as Nimitz’ subordinates, had convinced themselves the Americans would not attempt to assault it.
More often than not, however, judgment counsels “Cannot” while will says “Can.” In extremity the great results are gained when will overrides judgment. Will alone carried Washington through the winter of Valley Forge, that nadir of misery and neglect, and only his extraordinary will kept the freezing, half-starved, shoeless army, unpaid and unprovisioned by the Continental Congress, from deserting. Judgment would have said, “Go home.” I suppose it was will that dragged Hannibal over the Alps although judgment might have asked what would happen after he gained his goal, just as judgment might have advised Stilwell that his mission—the mobilizing of