Both in warfare and football the old-style frontal attack has been abandoned to a large extent. The odds against it in both cases are far too great save when the enemy is unusually weak. Time was when nine-tenths of the touchdowns in football from a point inside the ten-yard line were made through the center or guard positions - sheer frontal attack. There was a time, too, when the Macedonian phalanx and Caesar's legions found the simple frontal attack all-sufficient. Macdonald's great column, the heaviest fighting unit in military history, perhaps, broke the Austrian line at Wagram, just as the old-time Vs and wedges of football rammed their way down the field in the days when it was permitted to push and drag the runner and to lock arms over the backs of the forwards. Napoleon was driven to the use of the solid column when the personnel of his troops was in a sad state, owing to the casualties of long-continued warfare.

Commenting on the battle of Vimiero, Napier wrote: "Nevertheless, columns are the soul of military operations; in them is the victory... The secret consists in knowing when and where to extend the front." As in war, so in football, one of the great problems has been in knowing "when and where to extend the front." In recent years, however, certain of the football strategists have extended the front to advantage even inside the ten-yard line, engaging that strong defensive triangle of which the base is the center and the two guards, and the apex the fullback, with "false attack," while the real play went elsewhere; or disregarding the center triangle almost entirely, shooting wide of it and turning out, or running wide, and turning in behind it, as prospects warranted. This method is more in line with the linear tactics of Frederick, depending primarily upon precision, and backed with all the power possible.

To-day, in teams of nearly equal personnel, it is the flanks that bear the burden of the attack eight times out of ten, the play going straight ahead on center or guard only when short gains are needed, or when the defense has been so spread as to warrant a sudden change in the objective.

But there is a great fundamental principle in football in making flank attacks that turn inside the end, and it is that in general the forward progress should be made as nearly as possible perpendicular to the line, the forward impulsion beginning at a point directly opposite the chosen point of attack in the enemy's flank. The flanking movement is to-day as important on the girdiron as it is on the field of battle.

A word further about "fire action" as it is applied to football. The value of fire action in warfare has increased steadily because of the vast improvement in the range and effectiveness of weapons, even the cavalry dispensing with the old-time charges in favor of the new method. If we consider that in football fire action means all kinds of kicking and forward passing, but above all advanced individual interference, it is easy to see why it has supplanted the old-time shock action over a greater part of the field.

The change has come about to some extent through the increased range and effectiveness of individuals, and I say this in the face of the old-timers who frequently maintain that the players of their day were quite as versatile as those who make brilliant reputations under the modern rules. While there are exceptions, I maintain, and good judges with me, that there has been a tremendous advance in recent years in individual effectiveness. There is no doubt that under the present rules men like Heffelfinger, Sanford, Glass, and others of their type at Yale, like Wheeler, Hillebrand, Church, Cowan, Lea and Holly, of Princeton; like Cutts, Newell, and Waters, of Harvard, would perform up to the highest standards, but in the main the old-time teams did not have the individual range that is demanded to-day.

Plays in those days were in the main along interior lines, save when the crisscross was used for end runs, or when the Blisses of Yale, Dibblee of Harvard, or Kelly and Reiter of Princeton, turned the ends largely through sheer native speed. So far as I have been able to learn, Yale teams were the first to send men down the field far ahead of the play to deal with the ultimate defense should the runner find clear sailing down to such a point, but there was nothing like the individual interference beyond the line of scrimmage that is the stock in trade of the leading elevens to-day.

This modern individual interference is fire action with a vengeance, and, coupled with the actual shooting of the forward pass and quick kicking under the line, may fairly be compared with the fire action of warfare. Save the constant fumbling of kicks there is nothing more demoralizing to the secondary defense than being constantly bowled over by opponents who seem to spring from the ground in unsuspected places. This is true whether the play succeeds or fails.

Interference beyond the scrimmage line is primarily concerned with the breaking up of the defensive triangles in such a way that the backs can be shot through into the open spaces, and these open spaces will be found in greater frequency behind the enemy's flank than behind his center, where he is bound to be numerically strong. There are five of these defensive triangles; two with their bases presented to the attack, three with their apexes facing the offensive eleven; and they can be closed up very fast. The first of these, made up of guards, center, and fullback, it is well to skirt, for it is very hard to break up, while it is best if possible to shoot the runner into the middle of the others, at the same time breaking up one corner if possible. The play will turn out or in according to the corner it is found easiest to break. The other triangles are made up of two formed by a halfback, the fullback and tackle; another composed of both halfbacks and the fullback, and the last consisting of both halfbacks and the quarterback.