All military language should be of the utmost brevity and clarity. Death and disaster are the direct results of ambiguity. Throughout all history mistaken directions and information have been the ruin of whole campaigns. Careless wording, like careless shooting, is not only ineffective but often suicidal.
The object of these few lessons is to give practice in putting the language of military communication into form. It is hoped that by means of certain technical and rhetorical principles the student may gain proficiency in expressing his thoughts as he intends them and as military efficiency demands them.
Our Field Service Regulations state that “clear and decisive orders are the logical result of definite and sure decisions.” But this statement does not imply that if a person arrives at a definite and sure decision, he gains clear and decisive phraseology without effort on his part. General Wagner, a pioneer among American military authorities, divides into completely separate operations the act of deciding upon a definite plan of action and that of drafting or framing orders which will carry that decision into effect. One is purely military and has to do with dispositions of forces; the other is mainly rhetorical and has to do with manipulations of language. Many a military man has decided certainly in his own mind what he is going to do in order to carry out his mission, only to be faced immediately with a harder task. He must set that definite idea in the mind of some one else. “How,” he sighs, “shall I put this so as to let my Captains, Smith and Jones, know exactly what I want?” He seats himself on a warm rock under the blazing sun and chews his pencil. What he at first writes down, he finds, is full of loop-holes and is not expressive of what he means. He tries again, crosses out words here and there, adds others, and changes his sentences until the whole is undecipherable. In disgust he tears up the paper and tries again. After fifteen minutes of such effort he holds in his hand a few paragraphs of which he is not proud, but which will have to do. There has been no want, perhaps, of clear tactical reasoning on his part, but rather a distinct lack of ability to drive common English home. His case, we find, is not exceptional. One has only to listen to the discussions of military beginners (or of some, alas, who are not military beginners) to hear this statement confirmed. How often after having given careful or even brilliant estimates of a situation will a man burst out with, “I know what I mean right here, but don’t quite know how to say it!” All the way along there has been a decided blank space between decision in the mind and embodiment in language.
Whether slang, profanity, or colloquialisms have cut into our ordinary speech to such an extent as to keep us at a loss for the apt word, or whether we have grown careless or slovenly in our habits of expression, is a matter with which we are not concerned here. We do know that we are continually hampered by our inability to state absolutely our meaning. This lack of skill in composition which besets us, we must overcome in our profession, for the sake of the lives dependent upon our words. Napoleon sitting at his desk scribbling off orders and messages as fast as his nimble fingers can travel, his secretaries standing about him grasping each finished piece from under his pen and sending it off immediately by courier without revision or correction, is a dazzling picture for the military leader to contemplate. In his writing, a commander capable of carrying out single-handed all the phases and minor items of the mightiest of campaigns could, no doubt, be precise and accurate habitually. He was a genius. Yet Napoleon had had long years of practice in putting his will into words; for, we are told, he began to compose orders and to think tactically and strategically at a time of life when most of us have not even chosen our careers. If, then, we can try our hand at transcribing our ideas in as formative a period as possible in our military careers, we, too, may attain a proficiency that will become a second nature with us. At least, we may put behind us a great part of this uninteresting but indispensable work of learning to control our language, before we confront the more serious task of straightening out tactical and strategical difficulties in the presence of the enemy.
Incidentally, while we are on our way in our progress in expression, we may pick up much valuable military information. In our practice with tactical language we must make use of certain facts which have been found by experience appropriate to certain happenings connected with officers’ and soldiers’ duties. We shall be in constant touch with the workings of patrols, advance guards, outposts, and forces in battle. Like so many reporters we shall be present at maneuvers putting our notes into graphic and specific form.
Now, however, we are going to rivet our attention to the main issue—the mastery of clear and brief military communication. It has been mentioned that such ready skill often prevents loss of battles and human life. It prevents another loss which we have not taken up separately—the loss of time. The officer who sat chewing his pencil on the warm rock threw away from ten to twelve minutes which might have been used profitably upon the accomplishment of his mission—an amount of time which might have given the very advantage needed to gain a complete victory over the enemy. If he had had a skilful working knowledge of his own Mother Tongue, the delay would not have occurred. His effectiveness was lost for want of power of expression. To illustrate further, consider for a moment an army post going about its routine duties of drill, guard, and police. Into the Adjutant’s office walks an individual who announces himself to be Major Smart of the Inspector General’s Department. On being introduced to the Colonel, he identifies himself, and gives immediate orders that the Colonel shall have his regiment on the parade ground ready for field service in fifteen minutes. When the troops are formed, the Inspector rides up to the Colonel, hands him a typewritten tactical problem, and asks for a solution of it as soon as possible. The Inspector then takes out his watch and observes. If the Colonel consumes more than a reasonable number of minutes in writing his orders, or if he shows a hesitancy in so doing, or if he must seek aid from his Adjutant, it is surprising to note how soon after Major Smart’s departure from the post, the Colonel receives a letter from Washington apprising him of his shortcomings, and recommending, for his own good, a speedy remedy. Because of the inroads upon efficiency, the War Department, like any good business firm, cannot brook vacillation or unwarranted loss of time.
We must, then, adopt some method or procedure by which we will effectually beat down the causes of this loss of time, battles, and life. After analysing past proficiencies and deficiencies in military communication, we spy out from all the roads to the goal open to us, two which appear to be shorter than the rest. If we guide ourselves along these we shall come upon our object in the quickest way. Since the first leads into the second, they are given here in order. We should strive: (1) To learn to find quickly expressions which will cover information and decisions that are trying to struggle into language; and (2) To plant that information and decision into the recipient’s understanding exactly as it was rooted in our minds.
The first process is that of defining thoughts exactly and briefly.
The second process is that of making those thoughts so unmistakable that the most stupid cannot misunderstand and the most captious cannot misinterpret.
After we have done the first, we should look over our work and be certain that we have done the second.
The first has to do with the kind of situation that faced the man who knew what he “wanted to say but couldn’t express himself.” Some authorities argue that there is no difference between clear thinking and clear expression. They give no place to the “mute inglorious Milton.” They would not concede that the man groping for language had formed a definite plan in his mind, because that plan was not definite enough to be expressed. “If he has not thought in language,” they say, “he has not really thought.” Their opponents claim that a man thinks in pictures, and that he conceives his ideas as a painter imagines objects. In his mind are the outlines and colors of what he considers. There is truth in both views of the matter. But it is likely from what we know of the training of the military man that his mind works more by visualizing the troops and by conjuring up the scene than by gaining his conceptions through words. His forces are moving along roads, occupying trenches, or surging into conflict. His map is not a plane surface with names upon it, but a vision of highways, waving corps, and rolling hills. He is looking at these things without mentally describing them. For the purpose of this course, we shall take the view that there are occasions where we deduce certain results, but are unable, because of unfamiliarity with framing good sentences or because of a small vocabulary, to communicate those results or deductions in accordance with common usage.
The second road can be illustrated by comparison with the first. There is a wide difference, although at first there does not appear to be, between merely stating a thing clearly and making it unmistakable. The first is but a negative approach to complete certainty of expression, but the second must be a positive one. The distinction is one more or less of attitude of mind, and although heretofore it has been overlooked as an entity in English text books and military regulations, it assuredly illustrates itself in two types of men who actually exist. The man who is content with merely making himself clear takes the attitude of, “O, well, they will get what I meant because any other interpretation is absurd or incorrect.” The man who is not content unless he makes himself unmistakable says, “I won’t let any of them have the slightest excuse for any other interpretation; when I get through there will be but one interpretation and that will be mine.” The first one in sending a message to his commanding officer locates himself by putting in his heading, “Irrigation ditch 500 yards east of southeast corner of Catholic Church.” He notices another irrigation ditch fifty yards further to the east, but says to himself, “If my commanding officer measures the distance on the map he will know which one I mean.” The second man, upon looking about him and discovering the other ditch, does not accept the chance of letting his commanding officer confuse the two ditches by a possible difference of maps or measuring instruments. He investigates further. By moving a few yards to the top of a hillock he notices that the farther ditch is entirely a dirt construction whereas the one he occupies is a concrete one. He confirms this intelligence by looking at his map which shows the ditches to be as he has made them out. He, therefore, heads his message, “Concrete irrigation ditch 500 yards east of southeast corner of Catholic Church.” This is a case where an added word has made the meaning more proof against error. There are similar cases where a word taken away, or the change of a phrase, clause, or sentence, will make the recipient of the communication more sure of the true state of affairs.
To sum up as far as we have gone, we see that our object is to put military communication into proper form; that the failure to make our expression of the utmost brevity and clarity causes loss of efficiency, battles, and life; that a condition of inability to express ourselves exists widely; that by starting as early as we can to practice clear and brief form within the bounds of rhetorical and military rules (which, after all, are nothing more than those of common sense), we shall overcome this deficiency; and that for ourselves we are going to direct our course along two highways, viz.:
(1) To learn to find quickly expressions which will cover information and decisions that are trying to struggle into language; and
(2) To plant that information or decision in the recipient’s understanding exactly as it was rooted in our minds.
We have, so far, rehearsed the general attitude we must adopt toward conquering indefinite and lengthy expression. Because this weakness is so natural to us, we cannot afford to trifle with it if we wish to become a factor in battle. Positive decisions and information must be given in a positive way. Since no other kind of decision or information is countenanced in the military service, we must search for specific means of having our language stand sturdily by itself.
It must not choke our idea or our will, however little. Our decisiveness must reach our farthest superior or subordinate; and words, phrases, clauses, sentences, and paragraphs are going to be our only representatives. They alone will stand for us. Every pencil mark on that paper will be a part of the photograph of our intelligence. Our phraseology will be ourselves. We shall be judged by it, and rightly so, at a time when we shall have no chance to offer an amendment, an excuse, or an I-didn’t-mean-quite-that.
Guide-posts must mark our highways, if we are in earnest about our destination of brevity and clarity. In the specific hints which follow as to what to do and what not to do, there will be no attempt to point the way to literary effects which have entertainment for their sole object. Our effort must be to find a practical and speedy outlet for military information and decision through the most unmistakable channels. But since we must be terse and clear even to entertain, most of the rules of English will apply here. So we must not betray surprise or anguish when we are beset on our way by some old enemies with whom we have wrestled in rhetorics. In meeting them again we shall become the stronger because of the exercise on new and professional ground. The effort to put facts into forceful and compact form now, will create for us such a habit of brevity and clarity that later on we shall have room in our natural language for only such ideas and decisions as are brief and clear.
As to Words.
1. Never use a term which depends upon the point of view of the observer, such as right, left, in front of, behind, on this side, beyond, and the like. Any of these directions may be turned askew in nine cases out of ten for the hearer or reader. Use instead north, east, etc.—the points of the compass—designations which do not change. To give an exact position of a place, state the number of yards it lies south, west, etc., of a certain point on the map or of a well-known object called a reference point.
Exceptions.—Right and left may be used in regard to individuals, banks of a stream, and flanks of troops, because their rights and lefts do not change. The right of a man is the side on which his right arm is no matter which way he faces; the right bank of a stream is the right as the observer faces down stream; the right flank of a body of troops is the right as the troops face the enemy. (Troops in retreat are supposed to be facing the enemy. The rear guard in reality is doing so.)
2. Do not use qualifying words such as, sort of, kind of, very, almost, quite, exceedingly, tremendously, somewhat, rather, nearly, and the like;
For,
(a). They lessen force, because they render uncertain ideas which should be definite; and
(b). They mean different things to different people. Smith’s almost may achieve; Jones’ almost may scarcely start.
3. Do not use slang. There is usually a word which will express the meaning more truthfully. “Putting it over” may mean complete victory or a sniper’s accurate shot. The phrase is not truthful.
4. Use no abbreviations except A. M., and P. M., and those given in Appendix 9 of our Field Service Regulations.[1] Noon and midnight should be written out fully.
5. Never use he, it, this, him, her, their, them, that, those, which, whose, or the like, without looking at them from every angle to make sure that they refer to a single word. If they refer to a whole statement or to two or more possible words, they are used wrongly. The addition of a noun will usually fix the meaning. Suppose you were to receive a message with this sentence in it:
The platoon leader assigned to one squad the wrong objective, and it delayed the firing.
Grammatically, the objective delayed the firing. Logically, either the act of the platoon leader or the squad delayed the firing. You make out by re-reading the whole message that it must have been the mistake of the platoon leader which delayed the firing. But in the meantime you have lost three minutes, and the government has lost that much efficiency.
And this or which in place of “and it” in the message would have made the sense no clearer. But and this error, or which error, makes the meaning unmistakable.
6. Never use a participle without inspecting it to see that it does not dangle—that it refers to the subject of the sentence rightly. Example:
“Looking over the crater, the periscope of the enemy was seen to turn.”
What this sentence really says is that the periscope was looking over the crater—a very possible happening. But all circumstances connected with the idea, after a series of mental deductions on the part of the reader, reveal that the writer had been looking over the crater at the periscope. The commander who received this information might have been led to believe that the periscope was situated in the crater. At least he was delayed, if not misled.
7. Do not use and except where necessary. Usually, when we connect clauses with it, we do not mean and, but some more expressive word such as because, whereas, when, etc.
8. Do not use any word which might not mean the same thing to any probable recipients, or might not commonly be understood. For instance, to a southerner evening means something different from its significance to a northerner, and to an Englishman clever has not the American meaning. Watch the words which have local standards.
As to Phrases and Clauses.
1. Do not allow a phrase or a clause to string out your expression when one word might answer. Boil your communication to the clearest minimum.
(a). We went back to headquarters with all possible speed. We hurried to headquarters.
Here the specific verb hurried does away with your phrase with all possible speed.
(b). When we were present in the cantonment, the soldiers looked as though they were quite hungry.
Our inspection of the cantonment revealed the soldiers to be hungry.
Here our inspection does away with the clause when we were present; and to be hungry does away with as though they were quite hungry.
This error of spreading words is common to ordinary writers and is most tiring and time-wasting to readers.
2. Do not omit words from your phrases and clauses where there is a chance for misunderstanding. Examples:
The detachment commander will be with the main body until 7 a. m. and thereafter the advance guard.
What is really stated is that the advance guard will be with the main body after 7 a. m.—an unintended statement. Make your grammar accord absolutely with your meaning. Add the with which belongs before the advance, and notice how the sense is brought out. Again,
They order us to go to Brownsville and do impossible things.
In this sentence do they order us to do impossible things, or do they themselves do impossible things?
Add the sign of the infinitive where it belongs before do. And to do impossible things reads unmistakably.
3. Do not use a participial phrase without first inspecting it to see that it holds but one idea.
Having changed our position, the enemy was confused.
What this sentence really says is that the enemy, when he had changed our position, was confused. This meaning is evidently not intended from the very nature of the statement.
It is clearer and more accurate to use a finite form of the verb instead of the participle; as,—
Because we changed our position we confused the enemy.
Or if you can condense with accuracy,
The change in our position confused the enemy.
As to Sentences.
1. Avoid long involved sentences. Even if they are grammatically well constructed, they are liable to rhetorical error. The following sentence because of its length violates unity:
“The organization of the German army is today well known to American Army officers, and experience has shown that German problems and solutions of a complex character changed in translation to conform to American units are often more troublesome for the student to understand than the original would be, as, on account of the difference in the size of the units, it is often necessary in reading such a translation to go back to the German organization in order to explain a distribution of troops, which, though simple for a German division, would be an awkward one for a division organized after our own Field Service Regulations.”
The first thought given to the reader is that “the organization of the German army is today well known to American Army officers.” The last thought of the sentence is that the “explanation of a distribution of troops would be an awkward one for a division organized after our own Field Service Regulations.” The path from the first thought to the second is long and winding. In fact the two do not belong in the same sentence as the sense stands.
With a simple change we can make the whole easier to read:
The organization of the German army is today well known to American Army officers. Their experience has shown that German problems and solutions of a complex character changed in translation to conform to American units are often more troublesome for the student to understand than the original would be. On account of the difference in the size of the units, it is often necessary in reading such a translation to go back to the German organization in order to explain a distribution of troops, which, though simple for a German division, would be an awkward one for a division organized after our own Field Service Regulations.
The reader has been allowed to take in a thought at a time instead of three thoughts at once.
In spite of the injunction in our Field Service Regulations that “short sentences are easily understood,” such long and involved expressions as the above have abounded among military writers. In war, this continuous motion in a single sentence has marred undertakings; in peace, it has robbed efficiency. It has been an incubus upon general orders, and even communications in the field.
CAUTION.—By short sentences we do not mean choppy sentences—sentences unnecessarily short as,—
The battalion halted for the night. It ate supper. Then the battalion relieved the outpost.
Here the reader has been stopped when he should have been kept going, for there is in reality but one thought in the three separate sentences. They should be combined into some such form as this,—
After the battalion had halted for the night and had eaten supper, it relieved the outpost.
The proper relation of ideas is here expressed for the reader. He knows that the relief of the outpost is the main consideration, depending in point of time upon the halt and supper. And the whole thought is not too big for him to take in as he reads.
The first error, illustrated by the sentence concerning German organization, is a fault common to older writers. They have allowed themselves to grow into the habit of adding qualifying phrases and clauses to sentences already completed until their additions come to swamp the originals. The second error, illustrated by the sentence concerning the battalion relieving the outpost, is a fault common to young writers. They have not yet formed the habit of relating in their own minds the separate ideas of a complete thought.
The happy mean between these two indefinite extremes is the one we wish to find—the sentence that gives speedy and accurate intelligence.
2. Do not use compound sentences containing and, save where they cannot be avoided. Here is a common piece of slovenliness found in such a construction.—
The wagon trains pulled out and the troops ate breakfast.
Any one of the following is more definite.
After the wagon trains pulled out the troops ate breakfast.
The wagon trains pulled out before the troops ate breakfast.
As the wagon trains pulled out the troops ate breakfast.
The writer in the first instance was too lazy or stupid to think out the specific meaning of and for the reader.
Remember, also, that the use of and to connect clauses leads us into the treacherous “run-on sentences”—the sentence that flits from subject to subject like an old gossip.
“They fell into the trap and so the commanding officer’s orders were lost and they remained there twenty days and were finally removed to a prison camp and there winter soon came on and finally they were released and went home in the spring.”
The sentence, in addition to having too many ideas in it, has them unrelated.
As to Words.
1. Every geographical name must be printed in capitals, thus,—
WEST POINT, MARNE RIVER, PARIS.
This rule does not mean that the names must be printed, merely, but that every letter must be capitalized legibly.
If the place be not pronounced as it is spelled, it should appear thus,—XENIA (Zē′-nĭ-ä), POUGHKEEPSIE (Pṓ-kĭp′-sĭ), CHIHUAHUA (Chḗ-wä′-wä).
A road must be designated by enough points to make it unmistakable along the entire course considered; thus:—
BIGLERVILLE—582—CENTER MILLS. (See map, A-8 and 7.) The 582 inserted in this case keeps the course from being confused with the turn-off toward GUERNSEY. If the course were intended to lie through GUERNSEY, the road would appear thus,—
BIGLERVILLE—GUERNSEY—CENTER MILLS.
2. Use the words of one syllable preferably. You will find that the longer words come to you more readily but are usually more hazy in meaning. You will gain vigor and clearness by the cultivation of Anglo-Saxon.
3. Do not connect two sentences by a comma; for example:—
The phrase does not imply motion, thus it would mean nothing to say that the battery is advancing on the line Twins-Concrete Ford.
The error here is not so much one of punctuation as of sentence idea. Somehow, the thought does not run smoothly. We find that two separate thoughts without much relationship have been compressed into a single sentence—into something which should be a complete whole, and go from capital to period without break. Oftentimes, by showing this relationship, we may bring the idea within bounds of a single sentence; for example:—
Since the phrase does not imply motion, it would mean nothing to say that the battery is advancing on the line, etc.
4. Watch the position of your adverbs. When you mean,—
We captured almost all the ammunition,
Do not say,—
We almost captured all the ammunition.
The first means that we captured at least a part of the ammunition; the second means that we were close to success, but failed to capture ammunition.
5. Use the words head and tail when speaking of a column of troops. The head is the leading element and the tail is the other end, no matter in which direction the column happens to be facing.
6. In the newspaper or book that you are reading, every time you meet a new word make it yours. Look up the meaning in the dictionary until you are sure that you know how to use the word.
At the first opportunity, employ it in your conversation or writing. Sooner or later “dope” and the eternal “damn” will have ceased to fill in endless crevices in your talk and their places will have been taken by incisive words. You will awake to find that you are expressing yourself more easily and plainly. On the other hand, every word you pass over or for which you merely consult the dictionary, is a tool cast aside in your building of an officer. Every bit of slang or profanity which now crowds out the appropriate word will later rise up and clog your thought at a time when you are making your utmost endeavor to put into clear, forceful English your plan of action or your order.
As to Phrases and Clauses.
Remember to place phrases and clauses nearest the words they modify.
Captain George will divide the tools equally among the battalions which are fit for felling timber.
The change of the italicized clause to its proper position next the word tools, gives the intended meaning.
As to Sentences.
1. Use the short complex sentence; such as:—
An attack is expected tomorrow from strong hostile forces whose advanced troops are near FORT MONTGOMERY.
The enemy’s infantry disappeared to the south as soon as our advance cavalry came over the hill.
The use of when, since, because, where, whenever, although, after, till, until, as, so long as, now that, whence, whither, inasmuch as, that, in order that, so that, and lest, with the finite form of the verb is a good construction to practice.
Notice how compact and explicit is the following:—
Lest the enemy should turn your flank, keep veering to the east.
Try to put this same thought into twelve words by means of a different construction.
2. When you start with one kind of construction, keep it up unless there be some good reason to change it. If you begin with the past tense and third person, have the past tense and third person continue throughout the sentence or sentences.
It is reported that extensive preparations are being made in the vicinity of CAMBRAI and the enemy has stored railroad material there.
It is reported that the enemy has made extensive preparations at CAMBRAI and has stored railroad material there.
Which sentence reads along with less break?
Again,
It is advisable to advance part of the ammunition columns and that the division should follow at 200 yards.
Better,
It is advisable to advance part of the ammunition columns and to have the division follow at 200 yards.
Now that specific guides have been posted near the grammatical turns of the road, let us look at two general rules covering everything we do.
1. Write legibly.—Rain, wear in the pocket, dim and fading lights, and crumpled paper are going to make havoc of your orders and messages in war time. Your commanding officer must be able to make out your script as well as your meaning. Now is the moment to make your handwriting a size or two larger and noticeably plainer.
2. Inspect the form. After you have written your ideas legibly, look at them searchingly to see that they mean only what you intend.
You cannot be too cold-blooded about this act for two reasons.
In the first place, there is a habit which is strong upon us. We have all been too prone to state a thing haphazardly, and then to exclaim, “You know what I mean!” The person addressed, of course, is not going to acknowledge that he has not the brains to understand; so the jumble is never smoothed out. Thus in nine-tenths of our off-hand moments we have been accustomed to say what we do not mean. The habit is so strong that when we find ourselves dealing with matters of life and death, we are still liable to whisper to ourselves, “O, well, he’ll get it.” The result is that the part of the order, message, or report, which struck us as having our usual clearness, is a puzzle to the recipient.
In the second place, the impression has grown up in the minds of many that substance, no matter how it is mixed, is all that is necessary. There has come about a certain proud disregard of the manner in which a thing is expressed. Too many technical books have failed of their purpose because the writer, although he was an expert in his line, did not know how to present his subject in an attractive form. In the same way explanations have failed upon the drill ground, and lectures have made excellent tacticians appear like school-boys. The very manner of communication has not only spoiled the taste for the subject matter but has hindered its absorption. His audience has not understood his explanation.
In inspecting your work, take the attitude that the recipient is skeptical of everything you have said.
It is assumed that you wish to fasten in your mind everything in this chapter. The following method is suggested as the best short-cut:
1. Make an outline of the whole chapter, expressing the main idea of each paragraph and sub-paragraph in two or three words.
2. Close your books.
3. With the aid of your outline see whether you can call to your mind everything the paragraph or sub-paragraph means.