Waging War — The Art of War

A thousand swift chariots, a thousand heavy chariots, and a hundred thousand mail-clad soldiers, with provisions enough to carry them a thousand li, already cost a thousand ounces of silver a day once glue, paint, guests, and the work on chariots and armour are counted in. That is only the cost of raising the army. If victory is long in coming, weapons grow dull and ardour damps. A siege exhausts strength. A protracted campaign drains the State until it cannot bear the strain. When weapons, spirit, strength, and treasure are all spent, other chieftains spring up to use the extremity, and then no wise man can avert what follows. Stupid haste in war has been heard of. Cleverness joined to long delays has not. There is no instance of a country that benefited from prolonged warfare.

Only someone thoroughly acquainted with the evils of war can see the profitable way of carrying it on. The skilful soldier does not raise a second levy, and his supply wagons are not loaded more than twice. War material comes from home. Food is foraged on the enemy, so the army has enough. Keeping an army at a distance by contributions from home impoverishes the people. The nearness of an army drives prices up, and high prices drain their substance away until heavy exactions fall on the peasantry. Homes are stripped bare. Three-tenths of their income goes, and government expenses for broken chariots, worn-out horses, armour, bows, spears, and heavy wagons amount to four-tenths of total revenue. A wise general therefore forages on the enemy. One cartload of the enemy's provisions is worth twenty of one's own.

To kill the enemy, the men must be roused to anger, and the advantage of defeating him must come with rewards. When ten or more chariots are taken, those who took the first are rewarded. One's own flags replace the enemy's. The chariots are mingled with one's own, and the captured soldiers are kindly treated and kept. That is called using the conquered foe to augment one's own strength. In war, then, the great object is victory, not lengthy campaigns. The leader of armies is left as the arbiter of the people's fate, the man on whom it depends whether the nation shall be in peace or in peril.