Harding’s running mate in the recent election, Calvin Coolidge, might make an excellent president but he was too taciturn and shy to be an effective dealer with other countries. General Leonard Wood wanted the presidency, but he was truculent and belligerent, excellent qualities for a general, perhaps even for a president, but not for a secretary of state. Lansing decided he needed his experienced generals in military service at this time.
In his opinion, that left two choices. First was the former Republican candidate for president and former Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, Charles Evans Hughes. Hughes had run against Wilson in 1916. Even though Lansing had run on the Democratic ticket, he thought he could get a Republican of Hughes’ stature approved by the senate.
Hughes had been a favorite for the most recent Republican nomination until the death of his beloved daughter in early 1920. She’d died of tuberculosis at the young age of twenty-eight, and Hughes had withdrawn from consideration as a candidate. His personal grief was too deep to permit him to campaign. But would he be able and willing to be secretary of state in this time of crises?
Lansing’s second choice was current Chief Justice Edward Douglas White, the man who had performed so well in getting Vice President Marshall to step down. However, White was seventy-four, in ill health, and, even though he had once been a Democrat, that was decades ago. It would not be White.
What other choices did that leave? He did not like the idea of tapping someone from Congress or a professional diplomat. Congressmen all seemed to be planning for the next election, and diplomats, in his opinion, had a difficult time making hard choices. More important, the more powerful men in Congress had let it be known that they weren’t much interested in what they perceived as a demotion.
He made his decision. It would be Charles Evans Hughes and damn the torpedoes. He would talk to the man and appeal to his patriotism. Now he could get on with the business at hand, preparing the defense of the United States against the likely German onslaught.
That is, if it could be defended.
The door to the Oval Office was closed. Only the participants, a small, select group, were inside. There were no secretaries or clerks present and no aides. Lansing wanted no notes taken for a posterity that might consider them fools. He instructed the staff that there should be no interruptions.
Even though Washington was a city of spilled secrets, not even rumors of the pending German incursion had leaked out. Everyone in the nation’s capital was abuzz with talk about Wilson’s death, Marshall’s abdication, and the new and totally unexpected elevation to the presidency of Robert Lansing. As far as the nation was concerned there were no problems with Imperial Germany and the Kaiser. Both Germany and even Mexico were far, far away.
Along with Secretary of War Newton Baker and General Payton March were Naval Secretary Josephus Daniels, and Admiral Robert Coontz, the Chief of Naval Operations.
Lansing called the meeting to order. “I’ll get directly to the point, gentlemen. How do we stop the Germans?”
Daniels looked at him sternly. “You presume they are coming. You have only the word of the British and we all know how they would love to drag us into the next conflict with Germany. And, unless my memory fails me, don’t governments like to begin war during the spring or summer, not in the late fall?”
“Agreed,” said Lansing. It was common knowledge that the British and the French were planning revenge against the Kaiser and desperately wanted the United States as an ally.
“And it is that last shred of doubt that has stopped me from announcing it to the world,” Lansing continued, “along with the fact that such an announcement would precipitate panic and possibly even violence. If we accuse the Kaiser and nothing happens, we look like fools for crying wolf. But let us assume that Zimmerman’s message is true, what can we do? What are our strengths?” He turned to Secretary Baker and then to General March, who shook his head sadly.
“First,” March said, “Mr. Daniels’ concern about campaigning in winter is misplaced. The fighting, if it comes, will take place in southern Texas and southern California. The weather will not be an issue. If anything, campaigning during the winter in southern California will be advantageous.” Daniels nodded, understanding.
“As to the army, it is in terrible shape,” March said. “We have a little more than fifty thousand men on active duty, which is down significantly since the crisis of 1914. Please recall that President Wilson said there would be no more wars; therefore, why have an army? We had a devil of a time fighting the Mexicans in 1916 when Pershing went in after Pancho Villa and his bandits and nothing has changed since then. About half the reserves called to fight in Mexico never even showed up.
“I will add that the fifty thousand we do have are scattered all about the country, the Philippines, Hawaii, and elsewhere. Also, the National Guard and reserves total fewer than a hundred thousand, and they are poorly trained and even more poorly armed.”
Lansing nodded sadly. “And what will the Germans throw at us?”
March glanced at his figures. “Last estimate is fourteen divisions of infantry plus a number of regiments of cavalry, some armored car units and large numbers of artillery, and all will be under the overall command of Crown Prince Wilhelm. Of course, that doesn’t count an equal number of Carranza’s Mexican Army, which is just lusting to cross the border. Against them, General Liggett has three regiments in California. In Texas we have skeleton garrisons at Bliss and Sam Houston.”
Baker injected. “We will begin immediately to strengthen Liggett’s position by adding one regiment from Nevada and another from Oregon. They will go to California under the guise of maneuvers. Still, they will be but a drop in the bucket.”
“Assuming the Germans do invade,” Lansing persisted, “I anticipate large numbers of people volunteering; can they be of assistance?”
March shrugged. “We have almost a million ’03 Springfield rifles and millions of rounds of ammunition stockpiled at the Springfield Armory in Massachusetts, which is nowhere near California or Texas, and getting them to the fronts will be another problem. Nor do we have the artillery or the machine guns, and what we do have is largely obsolescent. I propose that we send a hundred thousand of those rifles to California immediately, along with whatever ammunition is appropriate. Similarly, we should send another hundred thousand to a warehouse in Texas. As to machine guns and cannon, we must strip National Guard units in the east and send what weapons they have to the danger points.”
“Do it,” Lansing said. “And do it sooner than immediately.”
March made a quick note. “Nor will the volunteers be trained, which means they will be slaughtered by the Germans, and perhaps even by the Mexicans. Yes, we will have numbers of men under arms, but to use them without a number of months proper training would be to court catastrophe. And dare I add that we won’t have the officers and sergeants to lead them?”
There was a knock on the door. The newly transferred Mrs. Tuttle and two smiling and well-meaning secretaries entered with coffee, tea, and little cakes. They seemed oblivious to the seriousness of the meeting they’d interrupted and Lansing’s astonished glare. So much for requesting no interruptions, he thought. For a moment he considered strangling her, but, as usual, he realized that she meant well. He looked out the doorway and saw a number of curious faces staring in.