THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



107 



the ratio is inexorable. The elimination 

 of a single ton from that irreducible mini- 

 mum will mean that some fighting man 

 must go without the requisite clothing, 

 food, medical supplies, or munitions of 

 war that would make him 100 per cent 

 effective against the Hun. 



Nor is this ratio of three tons to one 

 man a liberal estimate. At the beginning 

 of the conflict the number of ship tons 

 required for each man was as high as 

 five or six — about the same ratio which 

 Great Britain found necessary to keep 

 her army of occupation on the arid Gal- 

 lipoli Peninsula, where water as well as 

 food and munitions had to be brought by 

 ship. It is only through the genius of 

 organization, of rapidly developing and 

 developed efficiency in the handling of 

 cargoes, both in our own loading ports 

 and in French ports of discharge, and in 

 the hurry-hurry-hurry impulse which actu- 

 ates the master and crew of every ship 

 at sea flying the American flag, that the 

 tonnage per man has been reduced. 



This ratio applies only to our men on 

 the western front. If any considerable 

 number of troops is dispatched to Russia 

 or Siberia, the ratio of ship tonnage per 

 man unit of those forces will rise to 

 six, for the voyage from San Francisco 

 to Vladivostok is twice as long, and two 

 ships making eight round trips a year can 

 carry no larger quantity of supplies than 

 one ship making sixteen round-trip voy- 

 ages. Of course, much of the foodstuffs 

 required by our Siberian forces would be 

 supplied from Australia, from the Philip- 

 pines, and in some measure from Hawaii. 

 Japan will be more or less busy keeping 

 her own troops supplied, especially as she 

 has already greatly depleted her shipping 

 resources by charter to the United States. 



SHIPS FOR THOSK AT HOME 



When we have supplied the vital needs 

 of our uniformed forces, there are the 

 people at home to be provided for — the 

 great army of a hundred million men, 

 women, and children engaged in the es- 

 sential industries, occupations, and pur- 

 suits of a nation at war. They, as well 

 as the soldiers, must be supplied with the 

 raw products of many climes — sugar and 

 coffee and rubber from the tropics; ni- 

 trates, pyrites, manganese, sulphur, and 



other substances which go into the manu- 

 facture of war's engines of destruction; 

 hides and wool, hemp and sisal, oil, meats 

 and wheat to supplement our own stocks 

 depleted by export to our Allies. All 

 these and a countless number of other 

 articles of food, clothing, and industry 

 must come to us in ships. Ships! Ships! 

 Ships ! 



How, then, is the United States Ship- 

 ping Board, together with its great aux- 

 iliary agencies — the Emergency Fleet 

 Corporation, the Merchant Marine Re- 

 cruiting Service, and the Port and Har- 

 bor Facilities Commission — supplying the 

 nation's needs in the hour of its ex- 

 tremity ? 



The undertaking, beginning a little 

 more than a year ago in abortive effort, 

 misdirected energy, and chaotic confusion, 

 which seems to be a natural law when 

 any really great program is launched, has 

 gradually evolved into order. The ho- 

 rizon of the immediate future is aglow 

 with the promise of notable achievement. 



THE INTRICACY OF SHIPBUILDING 



In view of the speed which at last is 

 being attained in the quantity production 

 of ships, it is an excusable error on the 

 part of the layman to assume that the 

 construction of sea-going craft is a com- 

 paratively simple undertaking. As a 

 matter of fact, most of us, when the im- 

 perative need for a vast American mer- 

 chant fleet was suddenly realized eighteen 

 months ago, looked upon ship-building 

 with about the same nonchalance as the 

 would-be airplane manufacturer who, in 

 in the early days of the war, sought a 

 contract from the government, declaring 

 that he needed no special equipment for 

 the undertaking, as he could "whittle a 

 flying machine out of a piece of timber 

 with a drawing-knife." Many people 

 still imagine that a ship of wood, steel, 

 or concrete is little more than a glorified 

 row-boat. 



In reality, the making of a ship is one 

 of the most intricate achievements of in- 

 dustrial science, requiring the greatest 

 nicety of calculation, workmanship, and 

 correlation of parts. To cite a typical 

 instance : So delicate must be the adjust- 

 ment of machinery to hull that the shaft 

 line (the location of the shaft which 



