WITH THE INDIANS IN FRANCE
By
GENERAL SIR JAMES WILLCOCKS
G.C.M.G., K.C.B., K.C.S.L., D.S.O., LL.D.
LONDON
CONSTABLE AND COMPANY LTD.
1920
TO MY BRAVE COMRADES OF ALL RANKS OF THE
INDIAN ARMY I DEDICATE THIS BOOK WHICH
IS AN EARNEST ENDEAVOUR TO RECORD THEIR
LOYALTY AND UNPERISHABLE VALOUR ON THE
BATTLEFIELDS OF FRANCE AND BELGIUM
_From BLACKWOOD’S MAGAZINE
December 1917._
HURNāM-SINGH
BY GENERAL SIR JAMES WILLCOCKS
I
Beneath an ancient pipal-tree, fast by the Jhelum’s tide,
In silent thought sat Hurnām-Singh,
A Khalsa[1] soldier of the King:
He mused on things now done and past,
For he had reached his home at last,
His empty sleeve his pride.
II
Five years before a village lout, beneath the self-same tree,
He met the Havildar, who’d come
With honeyed words and beat of drum,
Cajoling all who glory sought,
And telling how the regiment fought
The Zakha and the Mohmand clans,
With shouts of victory.
III
Wah Guru Ji! rang in his ears, the famous battle cry,
And since those days Hurnām had seen,
On Flanders plains, from fierce Messines,
To Festubert and Neuve Chapelle,
’Mid festering bogs and scenes of hell,
How Khalsa soldiers die.
IV
The village yokels round him flocked to hearken to his tales,
How he had crossed the Kala[2] sea,
From India’s strand past Araby,
Thro’ Egypt’s sands to Europe’s shores,
Where the wild stormy mistral roars,
And anchor’d in Marseilles.
V
“Is it the truth,” said one more bold than village yokels be,
“That men with wings ascend on high
And fight with Gods in yonder sky?
That iron monsters belching wrath,
Beneath their wheels of Juggernaut,
Claim victims for Kali?”
VI
“Now list all ye,” said Hurnām-Singh, “the aged and the youth,
The tales they told in bygone days,
Of Gods and Ghouls in ancient lays,
Are true, not false; mine eyes descried,
Mine ears have heard as heroes died,
The Mahabharut’s[3] truth.
VII
“The land of France is wide and fair, the people brave and free,
I fain would tell, but orders came,
‘Push on, the foe awaits the game’—
The game of death; the Khalsa cry,
The warriors’ slogan, rent the sky,
Fateh Wah Guru Ji![4]
VIII
“The Sahibs’ faces told their tale; no craven thought or sloth
In those brave hearts, as we had learned
When Gujerat the tide had turned,
And left the names of Aliwal
And Chillianwala as a pall
Of glory to us both.
IX
“And thus the sons of Hindustan, from Himalaya to Scinde,
From Hindu Kush to Deccan plains,
Rent in a day the ancient chains
Which isolated class from clan,
And joined in battle as one man,
To die for Mata Hind.[5].
X
“Hur Mahadeo! Guru Ji! and Allah’s sacred name,
Shri Gunga Jai![6] from brave Nepal,
Re-echoed loud through wild Garhwal;
From Dogra vale, Afridi clan,
To the proud homes of Rajistan,
Was lit the martial flame.
XI
“As pitiless the bullets rained, ’mid angry storm and flood,
Khudadad Khan! immortal name,
Stood by his gun, for India’s fame
Was in his hands; the Huns advance,
Recoil; Retire; the soil of France
Is richer with his blood.”
XII
And Hurnām paused as he recalled, one dark November morn,
When twice three thousand foes had rushed
Our trenches, powdered into dust,
And bayonet point and Kukry blade
Avenging retribution made,
Before the break of dawn.
XIII
“Garhwal will tell,” he said, “with pride her children oft recite,
How Durwan Negi, lion-heart!
Was first and foremost from the start;
He led the charge which won the day,—
Oh, brothers, ’twas a glorious fray,
For victory came with light.”
XIV
Shābāsh! Shābāsh! from every tongue, and mothers’ hearts stood still,
As sons stepped forth and made demand
They too should join the glorious band,
They too should hear the battle’s din,
Or purge the soul of every sin,
If such were Ishwar’s[7] will.
XV
Hurnām went on: “At Neuve Chapelle, at Festubert, we bled,
On Wipers field, at Moulin Piètre,
We heard the German hymn of hate;
Above our lines the war-ships soared,
Our trenches rocked while cannon roared
The requiem of the dead.”
XVI
The Jhelum’s banks had witnessed oft her waters stained with gore,
Had heard the tramp of countless feet,
Had known both triumph and defeat,
But never had her waters swirled
A prouder message to the world
Than Hurnām’s story bore.
XVII
For India’s sons had sealed their oath, according to their laws;
Sealed it with blood across the sea,
From Flanders to Gallipoli,
On Tigris’ banks, on Egypt’s sands,
’Mid Afric’s swamps and hinterlands,
And died in England’s cause.
XVIII
For ages long the Mullah’s cry, the temple bells shall wile,
And call to prayer for those who died,
The father, mother, son, and bride,
Descendants of the loyal brave
Who rest in warriors’ simple grave,
And need no marble pile.
CONTENTS
PAGE
CHAPTER I. 1
CHAPTER II. 18
CHAPTER III. 31
CHAPTER IV. 49
CHAPTER V. 60
CHAPTER VI. 73
CHAPTER VII. 88
CHAPTER VIII. 103
CHAPTER IX. 119
CHAPTER X. 137
CHAPTER XI. 153
CHAPTER XII. 170
CHAPTER XIII. 182
CHAPTER XIV. 193
CHAPTER XV. 200
CHAPTER XVI. 220
CHAPTER XVII. 235
CHAPTER XVIII. 245
CHAPTER XIX. 257
CHAPTER XX. 268
CHAPTER XXI. 294
CHAPTER XXII. 304
CHAPTER XXIII. 315
CHAPTER XXIV. 325
CONCLUSION 344
EPILOGUE 345
APPENDIX 347
INDEX 383
MAPS
FACING PAGE
Country adjoining Indian Corps Front 75
Dispositions of Meerut Division near Givenchy _Page_ 165
Neuve Chapelle, March 10–13, 1915 234
Movements of Lahore Division before and after Attacks of
April 26–27, 1915 267
Trenches of Indian Corps, August 27, 1915 319
Mauquissart _Page_ 343
───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
Facsimile of “Summary of News” in Persian and Hindi
character 317
INTRODUCTION
I have not attempted to write a Military History of the Indian Army
Corps in France. I lay no claim to describing the course of events on
the British Front, as a whole, during 1914–15, except in as far as they
concern the Corps. The excellent account written by Lieut.-Colonel
Merewether, C.I.E., Indian Army, and Sir Frederick Smith, Bart. (_The
Indian Corps in France_, published by John Murray), both of whom served
on my Staff as Recording Officers on behalf of the India and War
Offices, and who have had at their disposal all the official records,
furnishes ample details of the movements and the doings of the Corps as
forming an integral part of the British Army in Flanders.
I have not had the advantages of papers of reference, nor have I seen
all the diaries of the various Commanders and others, and have had the
handicap of writing most of my story far removed from England; but it
must be borne in mind that a great part of their information was
naturally derived from my own reports and correspondence, and of nearly
all such I kept copies, and have used them. If, therefore, in some cases
our descriptions of military events appear somewhat similar the reason
will be readily understood. Also I kept a very careful Diary from day to
day which has enabled me to write with certainty of the events recorded.
My object has been to deal with the Corps alone, only bringing in
outside movements sufficiently to describe the operations it took part
in. I have tried to bring before the public, and more especially my
numerous friends in India, the inside of the story as opposed to its
general aspect. Books on the war are already numerous, and will increase
in large numbers, and to attempt to enter into competition with many
brilliant writers would be foolish. I therefore only deal with the small
portion of the war as it appeared to me, and as few if any have a better
knowledge of the brave Indian soldiers and the deeds they performed than
I have, I hope I may succeed in bringing before my readers a true
statement of facts.
It must not be imagined that I have any illusions as to the part played
by the Indians, as will be made clear throughout this book. No one knows
better than I do how utterly impossible it would have been for them to
do what they did, without the help and example of their illustrious
comrades of the Scotch, Irish, and English battalions which formed part
of each Brigade, or of the splendid Territorial units which later joined
us, and the superb British Artillery which paved the way for all our
efforts.
But of these History will assuredly furnish a brilliant account. It is
not always so of Indian troops; their raconteurs are few and far
between; the chief actors in the play, still living, will probably be
counted by tens not thousands. The rank and file will furnish no writers
to thrill the generations to come; they will just pass with the great
masses of India, content that they have done their duty and been
faithful to their salt.
It has not been possible to record all, or even many, of the deathless
deeds performed by both British and Indian officers and men, but I have
added an Appendix extracted from the official list of Promotions and
Rewards of Officers, N.C.O.’s, and Men of all Arms of the Indian Army
who served with the Army Corps or with other Indian troops or with
British Corps in France prior to 1916; and there will be found under the
heading of Staff, Units of all Arms and Departments, etc., what I
presume is a complete roll of rewards.
It will be observed that the early fighting prior to the battle of Neuve
Chapelle is described in far greater detail than the operations which
took place subsequently. For this there are two reasons. First, I was
able to keep very full notes of all occurrences as they took place, and
for the first three months indeed all ordinary papers went no farther
than my own Army Corps. But on the formation of the First and Second
Armies the Indian Corps passed under the orders of the First Army, and
the same opportunities did not offer as previously; hence it became much
more difficult to retain copies of all correspondence. Secondly, I
consider it far more interesting to record even the smallest fights, in
which the Indians bore a share whilst they were still new to the game
and had not become versed and seasoned in the intricacies of trench
warfare.
I have considered it a sacred duty, and to the best of my ability I have
endeavoured to place on record the loyalty, courage, and devotion of the
King’s soldiers from Hindustan.
It has been impossible to write a book of this kind without entering
into personal matters, but so intimately connected is a Commander of
Indian troops with the whole being of his officers and men, that the
doings of the one cannot be separated from the other, if their combined
efforts are to be intelligently described. But putting this aside, so
erroneous are many of the opinions and so ill-natured have been some of
the criticisms of the part taken by the Indian Corps in Flanders, that
it has been impracticable to avoid writing strongly when I considered it
necessary, and hence I have not hesitated to do so. Moreover, it is due
to India to be told the facts. The day is past when that great portion
of our Empire could be kept in comparative darkness; the light is
dawning, and the Great War has opened to her an opportunity which she
never had before. Her sons have shared the glory of the Empire. From the
boggy fields and trenches of Flanders and the desert sands of Egypt;
from the immortal heights of Gallipoli; from the burning plains of
Mesopotamia and the impenetrable jungles of East Africa, comes up with
one voice, from the thousands who fought and bled for England:
India has taken a new birth; the heavens above, the sea, the earth
Have changed for aye, the darkness dies, light has illumined all men’s
eyes,
Since Armageddon’s day.
I am indebted to many officers of the Army Corps for short stories and
some details regarding their units, but I have avoided asking any of
them for information which might raise controversial matters, and for
anything contained in this book I take full responsibility. My thanks
are due to Professor John Wardell, late Professor Modern History and
Lecturer Military History, Trinity College, Dublin, for having furnished
me with some interesting diaries of deceased and other officers as well
as extracts of letters written from France.
In a few instances I have taken the liberty of copying the numbers of
casualties suffered by the Corps, as well as the names of certain
officers and men rewarded, from the semi-official history quoted
above—_The Indian Corps in France_. Unfortunately many very useful
manuscripts, notes, and returns on the way to me in Bermuda were lost in
the _Adana_ when that ship was torpedoed in the Atlantic.
BERMUDA,
_20th October 1919_.
CHAPTER I
On the 5th September 1914 I was quartered at Murree in the Punjab, and
within a few days of finishing my four years’ tenure of command of the
Northern Army in India, when the good news reached me that I was to
proceed to France in command of the Indian Army Corps, then already on
its way to take part in the Great War. My luck was once more “In.” I say
“once more,” for I had had the good fortune to serve in fourteen
campaigns or expeditions, and in all but two of these had been
associated with or in command of British and Indian troops combined.
From Sandhurst I had passed on to Afghanistan in 1879 and had served
under that grand soldier Lord Roberts. The Indian Frontiers from the
North-West to Burmah were all familiar to me. I had shared the bivouac
and the camp for thirty-six years with my brave and loyal Indian troops,
on Afghan hills and in the dense jungles of the Irriwaddy and Chindwin,
in Munipoor in the far North-East of India, in Ashanti and blood-stained
Kumassi in distant West Africa. I had sheltered with them in the living
squares of man and beast in the deserts of the Soudan, and now I was
about to participate in their trials on the plains of Flanders. It had
been my good fortune to command brigades and divisions in peace, and
twice to be in chief command of expeditions on the North-West Frontier
in 1908; and finally the Northern Army of India for four years.
Dull indeed must be the man who with all this experience did not know
the Indian soldier, did not appreciate his great worth, or recognise his
limits. I never joined the Indian Army, but did all my regimental duty
with an Irish Corps, the 1st Battalion Leinster Regiment. To Irish
soldiers I owe much; from them I first imbibed that spirit of
camaraderie which is worth more in war than all book discipline; the
spirit which recognises common sense to be one of the greatest of gifts,
and which willingly renders loyal service, so long as no attempt is made
to exact it by misplaced force.
The Irish soldier is unsurpassed in the field, but you must trust him as
an Irishman. He has a right to a distinct nationality, and is justly
proud of it. No man could serve with cheerier, better comrades than the
1st and 2nd Connaught Rangers, which belonged to my Army Corps in
France; but of them more anon.
A word more as to myself; for in writing of Indian troops it is
absolutely necessary that a man should thoroughly understand his
subject, or his story would be worthless. I need only say that their
religion, habits, castes, and language (Hindustani, the lingua franca of
India) are as familiar to me as my own religion and language, and that
from long and sometimes perhaps weary toil I had acquired a knowledge of
many of the dialects of the Native Army. Thus equipped I found myself
the fortunate commander of an Indian Army Corps, for the first time in
history to be employed in Europe.
The Army of India was little understood in Great Britain. At the
commencement of the war I read, not with any surprise but with
considerable amusement, accounts of the composition of the Army Corps. A
great part of the public appeared to think that Indian brigades and
divisions were composed of Sikhs and Gurkhas alone, and did not trouble
about any of the many other races of India; nor were they aware that in
each brigade was a British battalion. As for cavalry, of course the
“Bengal Lancers” were the only specimens known to them; a Sikh squadron
being described by one correspondent as “fierce turbaned Moslems on
fiery Arab steeds.” The artillery, which was composed of the finest
British batteries in the Army, superbly horsed, was reported by one
paper as consisting of “mountain guns borne on Abyssinian mules”; and a
foreign paper, writing of the arrival of the Corps at Marseilles,
solemnly announced that “this Corps has been raised and equipped
entirely at the expense of three great Indian Princes, who are now
occupying the finest hotels in Marseilles. Their names are Prince Sikya
(evidently a corruption of Sikh); Prince Gorok (Gurkhas); and Prince
Balukin (meant for Baluchis).”
The Germans at any rate were to be rudely awakened. The shell-torn
trenches and blood-stained fields of Neuve Chapelle were to prove to
them that, given a fair chance and a sufficient artillery support, the
men from the banks of the Ganges and Indus, from the plains lying to the
south, and the Highlanders of Nepal and North-West Frontiers, could take
as fierce a toll on the day of battle as their white comrades.
The Army of India in 1914 was trained for a Frontier war or minor
oversea expeditions, and for these purposes was to a certain extent
sufficiently well armed and equipped, but by no means fully so. The
training had been improved out of all recognition since Lord Kitchener
formed a General Staff and instituted his “Test”; at the time a much
debated innovation, but one which, in my opinion and that of many of
those best qualified to judge, was a turning point in the field training
of the Army. It had at least set up emulation and given a chance to all
classes of which that Army is composed, so that even Corps in outlying
unknown stations were brought into the competition, and the spurt thus
given to military training had far-reaching effects.
The Army had had no opportunities for the higher training which was
required for European warfare. The parsimony of the Indian Government
had put a heavy clog on the military wheel. Money could be had for
everything except preparation for war. It was far easier to get
thousands of pounds for some perfectly useless scheme which might
possibly benefit some local cause, than to extract a hundred pounds for
anything to which attached the aroma of the Army. Indeed, so
extraordinary was the antipathy to spending a farthing on anything
savouring of gunpowder that officers and men, British and Indian, had
accepted it as a cardinal principle that expenditure on the Army,
however necessary or urgent, was a matter of small concern to the
Government, and that, sink or swim, nothing but unforeseen upheaval or
disaster, would ever worm a rupee from the civilian rulers in whose
hands rested the decision.
In England there was at least our Expeditionary Force (or a great part
of it) ready for war; its transport and equipment could be completed at
the shortest notice, and its Reserves could be quickly called up. But in
India, where, if anywhere in the Empire, it was essential that several
divisions should be able to take the field at any moment, no such
organisation existed. True it is that many thousands of men stood armed
and ready to quell local disturbances or Frontier forays, but the
mobilisation of a force consisting of even two divisions could not be
completed in all its details for weeks. It is no answer to say that
India was able to despatch two divisions to Europe at short notice. Two
divisions certainly sailed from Karachi and Bombay, but their equipment
had to be completed at Marseilles, at Orleans, and actually in the
battle area itself, whilst the artillery was only made up by denuding
other divisions of their guns. The rifles were of a pattern which did
not suit the latest class of ammunition with which the Army at home was
supplied, and both rifles and ammunition had actually to be handed into
store at Marseilles and fresh arms issued. To any one acquainted with
the science of musketry, and that in the days when our infantry had to
depend on this arm alone; when hand-grenades and trench mortars were
unknown; it will readily be understood that the handicap of going into
action with brand new arms was a very real one. Even the machine-guns,
which in some cases were much worn, had to be refitted with new tripods
as best it could be managed at Orleans. Further, there were no
howitzers, no mechanical transport, a scant supply of medical equipment
and signalling apparatus, and innumerable other shortages which were
essential to a force suddenly dumped down from railhead into the
trenches. All these were supplied in abundance in France as soon as it
was possible; indeed the excellence and rapidity with which this was
done was astonishing to us who remembered the cheese-paring days in
India, but it proved what a fool’s paradise we had been bred in, and on
what sandy foundations the structure of the Indian Army rested.
I have no desire unnecessarily to string out the manifest disadvantages
the Indian Corps laboured under, but I have heard too much the
criticisms of our Indian troops by soldiers and civilians, who are
without the faintest knowledge of what they talk about, and it is only
right that the truth should be known. There is a growing body of Indians
who have every desire but no means of ascertaining the facts, and if
this book can be of any use in helping to explain to my numberless
friends and acquaintances in India the splendid deeds of their brethren
who fought and bled on the sodden plains of Flanders under handicaps
which must have been seen and felt to be understood, I shall be more
than rewarded. Moreover, as commander of those troops during a year of
the war I had opportunities of knowing many details unknown to others,
and now that the war is over I am free to write the truth which for
years has been of necessity suppressed.
Whatever may have been the shortcomings of the Indian Army it possessed
one asset which never stood it in better stead than in France; its
British officers, although far too small in number, were the salt of the
earth. As leaders of men, comrades and friends of their Indian officers,
sepoys, and sowars, as loyal and brave gentlemen, they could not be
surpassed. I always believed in them, but in France my belief was
heightened to profound admiration, and as death took its heavy toll day
by day I knew that by no means could they be replaced; for the great
essential was that they should know their men and their language, and
this became impossible as India sent more and more troops to the various
theatres of war.
Next to the British were the Indian officers, most of them men who had
earned their commissions by brave and loyal service, of fighting stock,
with martial traditions, ready to give their lives for their
King-Emperor, proud of the profession of arms; they formed the essential
link between the British officers and men. In ordinary circumstances in
the Field they were well fitted to fill temporarily the place of their
lost British leaders, and many instances of this I shall relate.
I tread perhaps on thorny ground, but after a life spent with them in
many lands, I do not consider they can replace the British officer in
the field. I have discussed this with numerous Indian officers and
soldiers of all classes, but I never met one who did not practically
agree with me. There no doubt are in India some who will lay claim to
this, but I firmly believe the British officers, who are the truest
friends of the Indian soldier, will unanimously agree with me. If
bravery and self-sacrifice were alone to be considered then by all means
the Indian can take his place in any rank, but training and temperament
at present stand in his way.
What is now being wisely done is to increase the pay of the Indian
officers and men. The pay of Indian officers especially was almost an
insult to a class so loyal and devoted, and it must be very largely
increased; they should be given rank corresponding to their British
comrades, and precedence equal to, if not above, their civilian
confrères.
This was one of the sorest points with Indian officers. To the ordinary
observer like myself, at Durbars and public gatherings it was plain that
they never received their proper share of _Izzat_ (honour). No doubt I
shall be told this was all thought out and arranged by the Government,
but I speak from practical experience, not from the edicts of Simla and
Delhi. The Indian officer was not treated with the respect which was his
due and which he has earned in arduous service on many fields of war. It
was a feeling very strongly held by them and must be set right. _Izzat_
is a thing little understood by any but Indians, but it is a great
driving force; it raises men in the estimation of their fellows, whilst
the loss of it debases them.
Public opinion as understood in this country was nonexistent in India.
It was a one-man country; if the man was a strong personality he could
do much; if he was undecided his share became a small one, and good old
Indian _dustoor_ (custom) settled the question in the prehistoric
fashion.
Under the Indian officers are the N.C.O.’s and men. I have soldiered
with Rajputs and Jats, Pathans, Sikhs, Gurkhas, Punjabi Mahomedans,
Madras Sappers and Miners, Dogras, Garhwalis and other races. Each has
its characteristics, and these must be recognised by any one entrusted
with the command of Indian troops. You cannot place them in one mould;
you will not get from them their best, unless they recognise that they
are understood.
One of my chief difficulties at the beginning of this war was to make it
understood that the Indians cannot be treated as pure machines, and that
they possess national characteristics as varied as those between
Scandinavians and Italians. I own that Sir John French and his Staff
generally made every allowance for these facts, but there were others
who made none; an Army Corps (no matter its fighting strength in
numbers) was an Army Corps and nothing else. An Army Corps was supposed
to be able to occupy so many thousand yards of trenches, and the orders
were issued by this routine rule.
It might be said the Indian Corps was sent as a Corps and times were too
pressing to go into such details; this is perhaps true, and we all
recognised it at the beginning of the Flanders fighting; but as time
went on and the German attack was beaten off, I saw plainly that you
cannot expect a ship to keep up full steam when the engineers and
stokers are lying shattered in the hold. And yet those brave men not
only filled a big gap in our battered line, but, helped and encouraged
by their comrades of the British battalions of the Indian Corps, held it
against incessant attack. Minenwerfers, hand-grenades, and high
explosives tore through them and flattened out their trenches; blood
flowed freely; but as often as they were driven back from their front
defences they managed to return to them again. India has reason to be
proud of her sons, and their children may well tell with pride of the
deeds of their fathers.
I can look back to the time when the Indian Army was commanded by Lord
Roberts, and he paid two visits to Delhi whilst I was Staff-Officer
there. Whoever may follow him as Commander-in-Chief, one thing is sure;
no individual will ever be as closely connected in the minds of Indian
soldiers with the name of Chief as he was. It was truly surprising how
he was beloved by all ranks. It is no uncommon thing to hear of Viceroys
or Commanders-in-Chief who were well known to and liked by Indians, but
no sooner do they vanish from the scene than they are practically
forgotten for all time. Perhaps it is human nature, perhaps it is common
to all countries, but one thing is sure, viz. that Lord Roberts’ name
has, and will have, an abiding place in many an Indian home for years to
come. He had the nature which earns confidence, the open mind which
breeds loyalty, the fearless character that binds men to their leaders
with hoops of steel. An Indian Army led by Lord Roberts was doubled in
its fighting capacity by his presence, which to them was the sure
presage of victory. Without that affection which he had established,
neither to-day nor in the times to come, will the soldiers of India give
of their best on the field of battle. May be it is a fault, and in the
eyes of some reduces their value as fighting units, but if the Empire
calls on all its sons to fight in one field, it must not forget that
human nature is stronger than Service Regulations, and that blood is
thicker than water.
Lord Roberts left an indelible mark on the Indian Army and one which has
proved invaluable to all who have since served in India.
Another great soldier who left his mark, but in a different way, was
Lord Kitchener. His reforms were sweeping. The training of the Army
received at his hands an impetus which will stamp his rule as remarkable
so long as we remain in India. His re-grouping of brigades and
divisions, the creation of a General Staff, the erection of new barracks
and cantonments, quite upset the slow calculations of those who looked
on and wondered. And yet if analysed his work was only a putting into
force of principles which had long been recognised as necessary but
which others had not had the power to carry out. Lord Kitchener with a
master eye saw what was needed and did it; he rode rough shod over
_dustoor_ or custom; he was a mighty organiser and the civilians were
afraid of him. He never bothered himself over minor details in India; he
left them to his subordinates. He chose them himself and trusted them.
The inside life of Indians was unknown to him, he went to India too late
in life to learn; he was too busy with big tasks to attend to what he
did not consider an essential for a Commander-in-Chief.
Among his many reforms were some which I venture to say have not been
beneficial. The terms of service which passed men to the Reserve after a
short period in the ranks proved a veritable stumbling-block, and
created a Reserve which proved not only useless but a danger in war
time. The Reservists sent to the Indian Corps in France were of this
type, largely worn out, hating the very idea of war, many physically
unfit and incapable of a single day’s work.
Even Lord Kitchener had found it hard to get sanction for sufficient
British officers for Indian regiments and battalions. The numbers
eventually sanctioned were sufficient for frontier work, but altogether
inadequate to meet the requirements of European warfare, and this very
soon made itself manifest.
The reduction of ambulance _kahars_ (trained bearers) was another very
serious drawback, but in this case it reacted worse on the Frontiers
than in Europe, for in France, of course, a totally different system
prevailed. In 1908, during the Zakka Khel and Mohmand Expeditions, in
order to equip even one division and an extra brigade, bearers had to be
collected from all the divisions in India as far as Madras; an
impossible system in an Army supposed to stand ready for Frontier wars.
During Lord Kitchener’s rule, manœuvres or large gatherings of troops
were few and far between; all the money available was spent on
reorganisation; nevertheless the battalion training reached a far higher
scale of efficiency than had ever previously been the case. In order to
increase the numbers of brigades and divisions, to meet the requirements
of his scheme for mobilisation, Lord Kitchener reduced the number of
British battalions in a brigade from two to one. This for European
warfare proved a great mistake, as I shall endeavour to show.
Lord Kitchener’s name will, in India for all time, stand as a landmark
of great changes long needed. He has been described as a hard man; this
he may in a sense have been, but underlying his hardness, to those who
were privileged to know him well, was the very kindest heart that ever
beat in a soldier. He set himself a definite task and allowed nothing to
stand in his way, and yet I never knew a man who was more ready to
listen to reasonable suggestions, more ready to acknowledge that there
were two sides to all arguments, and when you had convinced him on any
point he was always prepared to give your views a chance. As I shall
show later he had an intense wish to do justice to the Indian Army and
was the best friend of the Indian Corps from the day we landed at
Marseilles to the day the Corps left France. The first telegram I
received in Europe was from him.
I am glad to hear that the Indian troops are _razi_ (happy), give them
my salaams and tell them I feel sure they will maintain their records
of the past when they meet the Germans.
If there had been a few more in authority who knew how to deal with
Indian soldiers, and who understood that a word spoken at the right
moment is worth a volume on paper, it would have been of inestimable
advantage to the Corps in France.
The first Viceroy with whom I had any direct dealings was Lord Minto. A
soldier by instinct, a gentleman by nature, and the kindest of friends:
he was very much liked by the Indian officers. He always made a point of
having them all introduced to him after any parade at which he was
present.
During the Frontier expeditions of 1908, from the inception of the
operations to the last day when we recrossed the Frontiers, Lord Minto
never failed to bear the troops, British and Indian, in mind; and his
advice on the political questions involved and his desire to spare the
enemy once he had been well beaten and submitted, at once showed his
nature. During his Viceroyalty the Indian soldiers learned that the
representative of the King-Emperor had a heart of gold, and having been
a soldier himself was anxious, as far as his high position would allow,
to meet them as comrades.
Such men leave behind them traditions which in India far outlive those
established during their comparatively short periods of high office by
some others who place Western attainments on a higher plane than human
nature. In the East this never pays; India is very susceptible of
influence but it must be based on common sense.
On the Frontiers amid the wild hillmen, Lord Minto at once established
himself as a soldier by appearing on his first parade in uniform, with
the badges of a brigadier-general (which in military life he was), and I
well remember the surprise and pleasure of the Indian soldiers who told
me (then a Brigadier myself), that now they understood that Brigadier
was in reality a very high rank, and that in the next expedition they
hoped the Viceroy would himself command troops.
On this his first visit to the Frontiers he was accompanied by Lady
Minto, who attended the parade and later went over the Malakand Pass.
She spoke to all the Indian officers and many of the wild transborder
chiefs, and years afterwards the memory of her visit was still a theme
of conversation amongst the Maliks beyond Chakdara and _en route_ to
distant Chitral. You can do much in the East by personal example, you
can do little without it.
Lord Kitchener was followed as Commander-in-Chief by Sir O’Moore Creagh.
As a very young subaltern I had first met him after the Afghan War in
1880, when he was a Captain and had just won the V.C. at Kam Dakka in
the Khyber. His cheery character had impressed me, and I instinctively
felt I had met a soldier I might meet again in a higher sphere. His
intimate knowledge of India, its people and languages, and his early
promise marked him for distinction, and in 1910 he left the India
Office, where he was Military Secretary, and assumed command of the
Indian Army.
Sir O’Moore Creagh had to follow a difficult man. Lord Kitchener had
dragged out of the Government what in India is spoken of as a colossal
sum of money. In truth it was nothing of the kind, but it has in the
past pleased that country to call anything a waste of money which is
required for military purposes.
The military are the very root of our rule in the East, and if you
refuse sustenance to that root the tree will wither. Time has proved the
truth of this, and in 1914, when the trumpet of Death resounded all over
the world, the Government of India awoke to the fact that there are
other things than education and law on which to spend the revenues of an
Empire.
During Sir O’Moore Creagh’s tenure of command, the Northern Army, which
I commanded, was given many opportunities of holding manœuvres on a much
bigger scale than usual. Comparatively large concentrations took place
in the Peshawar Division and near Soneput in the Punjab, which offered
scope for working entire war divisions against one another and also
allowed many Corps of Imperial Service troops to share in the work. The
Chief was present at some of these operations, which he thoroughly
enjoyed.
The Indian Staff College at Quetta, which has proved so beneficial to
the Army at large, was founded during his regime, and the General Staff
was permanently established on a modern basis. He, however, like his
predecessors found himself handicapped by the difficulty of getting
sufficient funds to keep the Army efficient for war. The shortage of
ammunition; the deficiency of a reserve of rifles; the totally
inadequate numbers of Field Artillery; the absence of howitzer batteries
properly armed; the inadequate pay of all ranks of the Indian Army, and
a hundred other most important items had to remain in abeyance, and very
soon after he left the Great War came to test the machine.
The test has proved the fine fighting spirit of officers and men and the
dire need that existed for modern equipment. The aeroplanes, the
howitzers, the reserve materials were _non est_, and although I do not
know whether the Indian or Home Governments found the cash, whoever it
is has had to pay pretty heavily for the failure to provide it in time.
During my tenure of command of the Northern Army nothing struck me more
than the hopelessness of the system adopted both by the War Office and
the Government of India in fixing the age for the higher Commands, such
as divisions and brigades, and in the Indian Army of regimental and
battalion commanders. The Indian rules were hopeless; promotion was
given by length of service and selection had to take a back seat. Money
was saved by keeping on officers, long after many of them had ceased to
be fitted for command, as it kept down the pension lists, and when money
could be saved on anything connected with the Army, there was no doubt
it would be done readily. The consequence was that in a country like
India, where youth and vigour should rank first in apportioning work,
exactly the contrary was the case. Merit had to subordinate itself to
rules and customs, and far too old a race of officers were frequently
placed in positions for which they were unfitted. In themselves mostly
good and gallant soldiers in their day, it was no fault of theirs but of
the pernicious system under which they served.
But if this was the case in the Indian Army, encrusted in obsolete
traditions, what excuse can be offered for the methods adopted by the
War Office in selecting officers of the Home service for higher commands
in India? Here at least was an opportunity for sending out young
brigadiers and generals, but nothing of the kind was done. On the
contrary, although good soldiers with good records were frequently
selected, they were generally long past the age for brigade commands and
would not have been given them in England. In fact the War Office used
India as the dumping ground for senior officers whom they wished to
reward, but for whom they did not mean to find a place in this country.
No one can deny these facts; they are to be found in the Army lists of
the period. It was very hard on the many gallant officers themselves,
but still harder on the Army of India. Any one anxious to examine the
matter need only consult the comparative ages of Brigade commanders at
the beginning of the war in France. In the Indian Corps drastic changes
had to be carried out in the field in the first months, as, to quote one
instance only, it was at once discovered that in combined operations the
Indian Brigade and Divisional commanders became senior to Divisional and
Corps commanders of the other Army Corps. Such a state of affairs could
not long continue, and if for no other reasons, for this alone, the
changes became imperative. How unfair on the Army of India was such a
state of things! How unjust to those brave and loyal officers
themselves, who after long years spent in gallant service for their
country were pushed out of their places in presence of the enemy—the
great goal they had lived for. And yet it was looked on as quite the
usual thing, and no one at the War Office ever seemed to have troubled
themselves where India was concerned. Such remarks may be called
vindictive, but call them what you will the Army Council of those days
is to blame, and secure as that body may feel itself when confronted
with one whose experience has not been acquired in Whitehall, the Army
of India of 1914 will support me in what I say.
The most important event in Sir O’Moore’s Chiefship was the great Delhi
Durbar, when His Majesty the King was present. No need to write of this,
except to say that knowing India, its Army and people, as I do, whatever
may have been the impression left on the millions of the King’s
subjects, speaking of the Army I can say that his presence among them
has left an impression which no other occasion in the history of that
wondrous land could ever have equalled. Men who had never dreamed of
seeing their Emperor in person, saw him with their own eyes, knew him to
be a living entity, and went away feeling themselves sharers in an
unequalled Empire. It is not too much to say that the King’s visit did
more to bind to the Throne in loyal bonds the Indian Army than any
triumphs won by the greatest of India’s former Emperors. Only those who
know India and its people, and know them well, can understand the
magnitude of the event.
The last of the Viceroys in my day in India was Lord Hardinge. I had the
honour of knowing him sufficiently well to appreciate thoroughly the
very great interest he took in the Army. In fact I go so far as to say
that none of the high officials I ever knew in India felt a keener sense
of his duty towards the Indian soldier than he did. Grandson of a great
soldier-Viceroy who had fought the Sikhs, his sympathies were equally
with the men who had fought for and against us on many a fierce
battlefield, and from the day I first met Lord Hardinge to the last day
I commanded the Indian Army Corps in France, I never failed to enlist
his unflagging interest in the men I commanded. He attended the big
Delhi manœuvres of 1912 and camped near the troops. Up at dawn and till
evening in the saddle, the Viceroy imparted his own enthusiasm to the
men. He rode over every part of the large manœuvre area, enquired into
everything, and during the final phase on the last day was like a boy in
spirits, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle, which turned out to be as
realistic as mimic warfare can well be made.
It was Lord Hardinge who urged the employment of Indian troops in
France. He and Lord Kitchener were the two moving spirits in the scheme,
and from the day I left India he never failed at once to answer all my
long letters; never failed to give me not only his advice on all matters
connected with the semi-political aspect of affairs, as far as they
concerned my Corps, but used his great powers to meet every request
regarding the classes of troops, the terms of service, changes in the
system of enlistment and Reserves, and in short nothing was more
noticeable than the determination, throughout the first year of the war,
which he evinced, to make the employment of Indians in Europe a success.
I write plainly, as the Indian Army should know the facts. The work of
Viceroys, although frequently performed in the glare of publicity, has
two sides. Much of what Lord Hardinge did for the Indians in France is
the other, or unknown side, of the picture. What was done in India no
doubt was put down as the work of the Indian Government, but much of it
was originated by him personally, because he took the pains to enquire
and knew the facts, and more still because he sympathised with the
difficulties which attended the steering of the ship in uncharted
waters.
Of one more official I must write before I proceed with my story, for
not only were we much thrown together in peace and on active service,
but his name is so intimately connected with the North-West Frontiers of
India and the personnel of an important part of our best fighting
material, that for many years past one had naturally associated the name
of Roos-Keppel with that of the Pathans and other border clans.
Fifty-three years of age, Roos-Keppel had lived on the Frontiers for
over twenty years. In many political appointments, as Commandant of the
Khyber Rifles, and since 1909 as Chief Commissioner of the North-West
Frontier Province, he has learned all there is to learn of the
tribesmen, and has taught them, if not all, then most of what is
necessary for them to understand. His life has been a romance of the
wild border land; his success has been achieved by manly and just
conduct in the face of semi-barbarism. His fearless nature, fine
personal appearance, and intimate knowledge of the habits and language
of the clans, stamp Roos-Keppel as a Paladin of the Frontiers. You must
know the man and his task to understand what he has done for India.
Governors and generals come and go, Maliks and Khans change or
disappear, but for many long years Roos-Keppel has been the true Warden
of the Marches.
The Afridis and Afghans know the white man came decades ago and planted
himself firmly on his borders, and means to remain there; but the white
man to the present generation of these wild warriors is Colonel Sir
George Roos-Keppel and no other. His influence has won their admiration,
his stern justice tempered with mercy has won their fear, and his belief
in himself has made them believe in him also.
Often in France, in the dark days of 1914, have I quoted to the Pathans
things he had said, and it always acted with them like a trumpet call to
duty. Still more often did I wish I had had him with me, but it was not
to be. He happened to be on leave in England when war broke out and came
to Orleans to meet the Corps, and although I tried to secure his
services, he was wanted back at his post in India, and I lost the aid of
a good soldier and a remarkable man, which I deeply regretted.