The issue was handled at the Navy Department where Hart had his first contact with Franklin D. Roosevelt, serving at this time as assistant secretary of the navy. Roosevelt, appointed by President Woodrow Wilson, took a decidedly different view of unions from that of Hart. As one of his biographers has noted, dealing with the civilian workers in the navy’s shore establishments “taught him relatively early in his political career the knack of getting along with the leaders of labor, and making himself popular with the rank and file.”16 Before very long Roosevelt had “learned to speak the language of the labor leaders, and mastered the sometimes intricate task of manipulating the labor vote.” Tommy knew how to speak the language of labor, he had grown up around manual laborers, but his impression at this time was that the unions wanted their members to do less for more, an attitude with which he had little sympathy. He believed in an honest day’s work for an honest day’s pay—for himself or for anybody else; government workers were already being paid wages equal to or better than their counterparts who worked for civilian plants and, anyhow, he cared little what the union members thought of the navy or how they voted. His view seems a reasonable one, although it must be admitted that he was not inclined to be pro-union no matter what the circumstances, nor was he likely to be sensitive to the politician’s approach since he had no interest in “manipulating the labor vote.” Whatever the merits of the case, Hart apparently was ordered to be more conciliatory and, of course, he complied. But his manner must have indicated something short of total agreement or perhaps a hint of his real feelings about “political” administrators; in his service record was a note from Secretary of the Navy Josephus Daniels: “Do not assign Lt. Commander Hart at the Newport Torpedo Works or to service at Newport.”17 The secretary must have been referring to future assignments, for no move was made to replace him at that time.
In all probability that was because it could so easily be seen that Hart, despite his problems with some of his labor force, was making a significant contribution to the navy. Moreover, his immediate supervisors may have been aware that his experience at the torpedo station was making a significant contribution to Tommy’s maturation. An important factor in any officer’s success pattern is his ability as a manager, not only of such inanimate objects as ships, but also of men. It did not take great acuity to recognize that Tommy had the talent for that role; indeed the choice of him for the billet at Newport indicates that someone had sensed it quite early. Success in high command, or control over any large organization, is two parts management and one part charismatic leadership. Tommy was getting the management experience early and any charisma he lacked he would make up for in drive.
With the new year, Hart decided to undertake an important new enterprise: keeping a daily diary. In his second sentence he admits that he does not exactly understand why he is embarking on this course. He goes on to say, however, that he is sorry he had not done so earlier, which seemed as good a reason as any for starting when he did. After this speculation, he summarizes his life between the ages of sixteen and thirty-six. He says that the great turning point in his life was “blundering” into and through the academy. That started him on a better career than he would otherwise have had, but most importantly it brought him into contact with Caroline Brownson. Those two things, his career and his marriage, plus the birth of his two children, Isabella and Roswell, he sees as the only really important events of the previous twenty years. He doubts that anything correspondingly important will ever happen again. Still, “granting a continuance of health, I’m sure my present happy life will last and with the same hard work and luck, I expect a continuance of success in my profession—which thus far, I think has been at least average.” Little did he know that he was starting a writing project that ultimately filled twenty-one volumes.
From 1 January 1914 on, his diary becomes a valuable part of what we know about his life and work. Most of the entries are not more than five or ten sentences; however, they give a distinct feeling for the man, because he records his reactions to many people and events. For instance, in his entry for 14 January 1914 he says that his sentiments are with the working man, but that he gets tired of the “constant search for benefits.” On 15 February he refers to the administration in Washington as “Government by Demagogues,” and on 28 March comments that he is “totally out of sympathy with the administration’s business methods” and opines that it grows more “socialistic every day.” On 22 June 1914, in discussing the ban on drinking that had just been forced on the navy by Josephus Daniels, he refers to the secretary as a “pot house politician from North Carolina.” Interesting, too, are the insights into Hart’s own personality. He frequently talks about his work, as on 3 April of the same year when he writes that he has spent the entire day on the range “watching five new torpedoes show how many different . . . ways there are of making bad runs.” Other comments reveal him as a devoted family man who spends hours playing with his children, worrying about their illnesses, and agonizing over their behavior. One of the most frequently recurring strains in the diary is his idealization of Caroline. He constantly and lovingly praises her strengths, her numerous talents, and her capacity for dealing with domestic traumas. Never, in his view, does Caroline do anything wrong and seldom does she fall short of perfection. Simple things, like organizing birthday parties and handling Christmas festivities, bring forth paeans of praise; complex affairs, like childbearing, overtaxed his supply of laudatory phrases. The diary makes it abundantly clear that Caroline was all a woman could or should be and Tommy loved her without reservation. Any suspicion that he wrote these things so that she could read them is dispelled by the fact that she was not allowed to read the diary during his lifetime.
By the summer of 1914 Hart had been at the torpedo station for three years, so he knew that the happy period with his family would soon come to an end. They had been interesting, grueling, formative years. The work was not really naval, except that the plant was producing a naval weapon. That meant that he gained intimate knowledge of torpedoes and learned as well some other valuable lessons, including something about politics and politicians. On 4 September, as he prepared to move on to his next assignment, he admitted to being sorry to leave a place that was to some extent “my own creation” but he was leaving with pride in the fact that he had “delivered the goods.” Although he requested another destroyer, he was sent as executive officer in the battleship Minnesota. This was not a command, but he could take some satisfaction in being the youngest executive officer in a “first-rate ship in the Navy.” Revolution was raging in Mexico and almost immediately the Minnesota was ordered to Veracruz, where President Wilson had sent a force ashore to seize that vital customs port.
During his entire term in office, the president’s foreign-policy concerns had been dominated by the Mexican Revolution. He wanted the bloody revolution to end, but more than that he wanted, as he said, to “teach the Mexicans to elect good governments.” Not surprisingly, the government of General Victoriano Huerta resented Wilson’s interference in Mexican affairs, thus inducing the U.S. president to throw his support behind Venustiano Carranza, who, with Pancho Villa, was in open revolt against Huerta. The whole situation reached a fever pitch in April 1914 when, after a confused embroglio involving the Mexican seizure of some American sailors, President Wilson decided to intervene directly by seizing Veracruz, thus denying the Huerta government the customs revenues that normally flowed through that major Caribbean port. Seizing Veracruz turned out to be another of Wilson’s well-intentioned, though misguided, attempts to influence events south of the border.18 When the Huerta government began—as anticipated—to topple, several competing factions arose to share the spoils and contend for power with Carranza. In short, Wilson had succeeded in making the revolutionary situation more, rather than less, confused.
For the American naval and military forces in Mexico the situation quickly deteriorated into a boring routine. Although the initial landing had been contested, once the American presence had been established neither of the contending factions in the revolution had the time or the