Armageddon

Univac

Remember that episode on Star Trek, “A Taste of Armageddon?” The plot essentially tells of computer warfare, where simulated clashes determines, by treaty, real casualties in execution chambers. That one premiered in 1967. 

Stay with me.

Rising industrialization and the emergence of international Imperialism triggered America’s early 20th Century entrance into an arms race. Competitors, like the British, governed colonies around the globe, and to a lesser extent so did the French, Dutch, and even Spain.

Money, weapons, power, and influence. America wanted its share.

Defending far-flung potential islands and territories required enlarging the US Navy. At that time, Alfred Thayer Mahan, a Naval Officer, published a seminal work, “The Influence of Sea Power Upon History.” Mahan proposed that an updated Navy would ensure America’s emergence as great an influence as Great Britain.

Theodore Roosevelt embraced Mahan’s work, as did his nephew, Franklin. Young Winston Churchill openly admitted his devotion to Mahan’s views, as did Kaiser Wilhelm in Germany.

In the years that followed, wooden vessels were retired in favor of formidable steel battleships, and smaller surface craft. And a new, dangerous, arms race launched, pitting the US against its colonial rivals. 

The Germans, late imperial entrants, felt they had been left behind in access to imperial growth. Particularly jealous of his English cousins, Kaiser Wilhelm pushed his own nation’s armaments production. The result? A nasty militarism, combined with foreign domination—a time bomb waiting to detonate.

An American arms manufacturer, Hiram Maxim, headed to Washington to sell his innovation: the self-cooling machine gun. Christened the “Maxim,” the arms builder demonstrated his handy work in DC, to the Department of War. The government turned him down. Undaunted, Maxim presented his automatic weapon to the Brits. Once again, no interest. In a  visit to Berlin, the Kaiser bought all the automatics in stock, and ordered the inventor to produce more.

By August, 1914 the first full-on Industrial War erupted, complete with aircraft, submarines, and automatic guns. (Plus poison gas, tanks, and rifles of various caliber.) All of these were mass produced and damn deadly.

The nature of Twentieth Century warfare had literally been forged in steel–producing assembly line annihilation.  

How does weaponizing technical innovations apply to now? 

The world resides in a post-industrial age, in a universe dependent on computers. From  Univac, to Commodore 64, to Apple, we enjoy countless benefits of the computer age. But the dark side of this ever-evolving technology, and the significant dangers it poses deserves reappraisal.

As I write, misinformation, via the internet, has abetted in the deaths of 670K-plus Americans, and the numbers still climb. Troll farms in Russia are ruthlessly still hacking away, as they did meddling in our 2016 presidential election. Those same hackers shut down Colonial Pipeline last May, while universities, government agencies, infrastructure, and businesses are under constant threat, paying millions to rescue their systems from ransom ware.

The indispensable nature of computers, like this one in my lap, is a useful, essential tool. But like the advent of the 20th Century, technical advances portends danger; cyber space as deadly as a machine gun, and as real as poison gas. Factor in nations around the globe are still vying for dominance—especially the Russians, and the Chinese. 

Nothing has changed since 1914, aside from more sophisticated ways to destroy. Fifty-four years after Star Trek aired “Armageddon,” computer-generated death is as real as the death toll at The Marne, or Verdun. Flourishing fingers harmonize chords on a piano, as does the right strokes on a keyboard. Unlike harmony, horrific death and discord threaten our nation by those who wish us ill.  

The Die was Cast

The threat of disunion appeared long before either the Civil War, or the insurrection on January 6, 2021. The architects laying the chaotic cornerstone? President John Adams, and his Vice President, Thomas Jefferson.

David McCullough in his celebrated biography, John Adams, portrayed this Founding Father as a brilliant man, and that is true. However, his self righteous streak succeeded in undercutting his talent and better judgement. As the second president of the United States, John Adams, proved to be a prickly, and thin-skinned chief executive. A dour Yankee, Adams could not tolerate public criticism, and as many later presidents, came to view the press as an adversary—enemies of the government.

In a rage over newspapers excoriating his administration, Adams shepherded the Sedition Act through Congress in 1798. Opposition editors soon found themselves in the President’s cross hairs, and some were actually jailed. The Alien Act, also passed in 1798, aimed to delay new voters, by lengthening time for naturalization, as immigrants were certain to vote against Adams and his Federalist Party. (Hmm. The press, immigrants, and voting rights. Imagine that).

Jefferson, (still Adams’ Vice President), promptly took action to counter Adams’ wrong-headed legislation.

Launching a full out, but anonymous denunciation of the Adams Administration, Vice President Jefferson published tracts vilifying Adams, and emphasized the sovereignty of the states guaranteed under 10th Amendment.

Returning from France, where he had served as American ambassador, Jefferson had been appalled by the powerful Federal Constitution created in his absence. As a ‘natural aristocrat,’ and slave master, Jefferson was unwilling to cede power to any higher authority than himself, and his fellow patricians. Instead the “Sage of Monticello,” asserted the right of states not to obey laws they didn’t like.

Two state legislatures agreed to debate Jefferson’s counter measures, Virginia and Kentucky. Penned secretly by Jefferson, and Madison, these resolutions insisted the states were the final arbiters of what was legally binding. A new term emerged from this controversy—Nullification.

The die was cast, the seeds of disunion sown. In the years following, nullification intensified, fertilized particularly in 1832 by John C. Calhoun, a South Carolina Senator. That that state became the first to secede in 1861, sparking the US Civil War, is no coincidence.

The traitors who invaded the halls of Congress last January took their cue from Jefferson, as if they, too battled the evils of John Adams. Scapegoating the media, immigrants and the Federal government has left a long, bloody stain on American history. As I write, the States of Georgia, and Texas among others, are attempting to limit voting rights once again. Texas has also taken a nullifying stance, limiting a woman’s right to her own body, despite Federal protections.                        

No government has a self-destruct button, none. John Adam’s pique, and Thomas Jefferson’s reaction stamped an incompatibility that still, today, inflames American politics. 

Gail Chumbley is the author of the two-part memoir, “River of January,” and “River of January: Figure Eight.”

gailchumbley@gmail.com

Unexpected Inspiration

Dear Helen and Chum

I’ve neglected you since publishing your story, and I regret my doubt-inspired silence.

The delight of researching the both of you, made clear that you lived more life than I’ll ever see in mine. Risk, peril, glamor, and ambition. You put yourselves out there, and is the best story, ever.

I wrote those books wracked through with feelings of inadequacy. Possessing little experience as a writer, I took on both volumes largely on my own and finished them, impatiently pushing the story out to the world, mistakes and all.

Still, I’m not sorry to have narrated your journeys, it’s the most kick ass true story I’ve ever encountered. 

Fear and confusion froze this greenhorn in her tracks. I am guilty of getting in the way of sharing your adventures, and reliving your forever love story. Forgive me. I presumed this 20th century saga belonged to me, but that is not so. Truly, there would have been no books at all, without your daring and triumphs to inspire me.

These books were not a mistake. 

Chum, you squared your shoulders, took a deep breath and strapped into that cockpit, forging a career of monumental consequence. The victor of the 1933 Darkness Derby, you braved the night skies over a sleeping America. Flying your mighty Waco aircraft, you touched down at Roosevelt Field where Lindbergh and Earhart began their storied flights. Later, in defense of democracy, you piloted US invasion orders through a dangerous South Pacific typhoon, tossed and slammed by up and down drafts, to complete your mission.

And to you sweet Helen, though we never met in this life, you inspired the entire effort. It was that first visit to your Miami home when something stirred inside me. A unexpected inspiration. Remember that black and white glossy? The portrait of a sultry platinum blonde? You know the one. Chum had it up in his room until the end.

That photo triggered a spark, a slow burning fire I could not ignore. This story had to be shared. The European tours, dancing, dinner with Maurice Chevalier, cruises across the Atlantic on the SS I’le de France, vaudeville with comedians Jans & Whalen. Then off to Rio de Janeiro you sailed, opening at the Copa Cabana. And after your marriage to Chum, and the war broke out you took up ice skating, performing nightly for Sonja Henie’s productions at Rockefeller Center. My God! What a life.

“River of January” is done, as is the sequel, “River of January: Figure Eight.” Preserved in the pages is magic, whether in the sky, on the sea, under the footlights, and revolving across shimmering ice. This story crackles with your energy.

This won’t be neglected any longer. I’m getting out of your way.

With Love, and Eternal Admiration,

Gail

Gail Chumbley is the author of the two-part memoir “River of January,” and “River of January: Figure Eight.” Both titles are available on Kindle.

gailchumbley@gmail.com