The decision to send Indian troops to France was at first limited to
sending two Divisions with their artillery and other arms, and it was
not till these had actually begun to leave that orders were issued
constituting them into an Army Corps with its full Staff. I was selected
for the command, and most of my limited Northern Army Staff were
attached. The remaining officers required to complete were appointed
direct from Army Headquarters at Simla, but I was allowed to nominate
the personal Staff. Of course it was a drawback not having a Staff with
whom I had worked in peace time, but such an organisation had not been
contemplated, and in any case I had nothing to complain of, as no
General could have found a more loyal and devoted body of officers; many
with very high attainments and experience in the field, and all with a
knowledge of British and Indian troops. I very soon found that
notwithstanding the fact we were all new to the peculiar warfare and
unversed in the details of Army Corps organisation, the common-sense
training which India gives men enabled us to quickly gather up the
threads of the work.
The following was the composition of the corps which left India:
LAHORE DIVISION
Lieut.-General H. B. WATKIS, C.B. (Indian Army).
FEROZEPORE BRIGADE.—Brig.-General R. M. Egerton, C.B. (Indian Army).
1st Connaught Rangers.
57th Rifles (Frontier Force).
9th Bhopal Infantry.
120th Baluchis.
JALANDAR BRIGADE.—Major-General P. M. Carnegy, C.B. (Indian Army).
1st Manchesters.
15th Sikhs.
47th Sikhs.
59th Rifles (Frontier Force).
SIRHIND BRIGADE.—Major-General J. M. S. Brunker (late R.A.).
1st Highland Light Infantry.
1st Battalion 1st Gurkhas.
1st Battalion 4th Gurkhas.
125th Rifles.
DIVISIONAL TROOPS.
15th Lancers.
Headquarters Divisional Engineers.
20th and 21st Companies Sappers and Miners.
Signal Company.
34th Sikh Pioneers.
Headquarters Divisional Artillery.
ARTILLERY.
5th, 11th and 18th Brigades R.F.A.
Ammunition Columns.
109th Heavy Battery.
MEERUT DIVISION
Lieut.-General C. A. ANDERSON, C.B. (late R.A.)
DEHRA DUN BRIGADE.—Brig.-General C. E. Johnson (Indian Army).
1st Seaforth Highlanders.
1st Battalion 9th Gurkhas.
2nd Battalion 2nd Gurkhas.
6th Jat Light Infantry.
GARHWAL BRIGADE.—Major-General H. D’U. Keary, C.B., D.S.O. (Indian
Army).
2nd Leicesters.
2nd Battalion 3rd Gurkhas.
1st Battalion 39th Garhwal Rifles.
2nd Battalion 39th Garhwal Rifles.
BAREILLY BRIGADE.—Major-General F. Macbean, C.V.O., C.B. (late Gordon
Highlanders).
2nd Black Watch.
41st Dogras.
58th Rifles (Frontier Force).
2nd Battalion 8th Gurkhas.
DIVISIONAL TROOPS.
4th Cavalry.
3rd and 4th Companies Sappers and Miners.
107th Pioneers.
Headquarters Divisional Engineers.
Signal Company.
ARTILLERY.
Headquarters Divisional Artillery.
4th, 9th and 13th Brigades R.F.A.
Ammunition Columns.
110th Heavy Battery.
By 26th September 1914, or a little over seven weeks after the
declaration of war, two Brigades of the Lahore Division had arrived at
Marseilles. The Sirhind Brigade had been detained in Egypt to reinforce
the garrison and did not reach France till the end of November, its
place in the Corps being filled, on and off, by a British Brigade from
the Expeditionary Force.
I myself with the Corps Staff reached Marseilles by ordinary P. and O.
mail on 30th September. I was met by the General in Command and an
A.D.C. sent by General Joffre, and in a moment grasped the reality of
our alliance. I was only an Army Corps Commander, but the honour thus
conferred on us was a token of the unequalled tact and politeness of the
French people. Every day I served in France I learned more, that with
all our _esprit de corps_ we are not in the same street with their army
in _camaraderie_.
The Meerut Division was disembarking by 11th October. The Secunderabad
Cavalry Brigade also arrived in Marseilles before I finally left for
Orleans, and later was attached to the Indian Corps in Flanders, until
the arrival of the remainder of the Indian Cavalry Corps. This fine
Brigade was commanded by Brig.-General F. Wadeson, Indian Army, and
consisted of
7th Dragoon Guards,
34th Poona Horse,
20th Deccan Horse,
“N” Battery R.H.A.;
and with it came the Jodhpore Imperial Service Lancers, under command of
that fine old veteran chief, Major-General Sir Partab Singh. His name is
too familiar even in England to need any description here; suffice it to
say he has, by his glorious personal example throughout the war, earned
a prominent niche in the temple of fame, and as long as India endures
the Rathore and other Indians will treasure the name of Maharaja Sir
Partab Singh, Bahadur.
Amongst Indian princes and chiefs who came to Europe, the following were
attached on various duties to the Indian Army Corps, and by their
loyalty and devotion well maintained the fame of their ancestors.
Indeed, as I look back on those stormy days and recall many rides over
execrable roads and fields deep in mire, from one end of our line to the
other, I conjure up these scions of noble and great houses, sodden and
mud-stained, and cease to wonder why Great Britain had gained so firm a
hold over the millions of Hindustan.
It is something which our race may well be proud of. On many a bitter
field their powerful ancestors had fought against one another; some had
disputed with us our sovereignty over the peninsula now called India,
and all were of different race, creed and religion to ourselves; and yet
here on the plains of Flanders they were intent on one thing alone, and
that was to share our toils and our honours, and give if necessary their
lives for their King-Emperor.
Lieut. His Highness the Maharaja of Jodhpore was serving with Sir Partab
Singh in his own regiment of Lancers.
Colonel His Highness Sir Ganga Singh, Bahadur, Maharaja of Bikanir, was
attached to the Meerut Division. I have long known this Indian prince;
his devotion to the British and his readiness to be always doing
something were conspicuous in France. His own Camel Corps was serving in
Egypt, and later on he went and joined it for a time.
Major His Highness Sir Madan Singh, Bahadur, Maharaja Dhiraj of
Kishengarh.
Captain the Hon. Malik Sir Umar Hayat Khan Tiwana was attached to the
Ferozepore Brigade. A lithe, active man, he was the chief Mahomedan
representative with the corps.
Lieut. Raj-Kumar Hira Singh of Panna was with the Bareilly Brigade; and
Lieut. Maharaja Kumar Hitandra Narayan of Kuch Behar was attached to the
Dehra Dun Brigade.
Lieut. Maharaja Kumar Gopal Saran Narain Singh of Tikari served with the
Corps Signal Company and was a most versatile man, always ready to turn
his hand to any job. Cheery and energetic, I had many opportunities of
observing his work.
Lieut. Malik Mumtaz Mahomed Khan, Native Indian Land Forces, was with
the Staff of the Secunderabad Cavalry Brigade; and Captain Shah Mirza
Beg, Jodhpore Lancers, was an A.D.C. in the same Brigade.
Last, but by no means least, was one of the best soldiers I ever met,
Risaldar Khwaja Mahomed Khan, Sirdar Bahadur, I.D.S.M., of the Guides
Cavalry, my Indian A.D.C. He had served as A.D.C. to Lord Kitchener when
he was Commander-in-Chief, and twice with me on frontier expeditions in
1908. Brave, loyal to the core; hard as nails; always cheerful and very
hard working, it was a pleasure to serve with such a real gentleman. He
was invaluable in France, for although he knew but little English and
very little French he was liked by all, British and Allies. He was the
connecting link between me and all our Indian officers, and by his tact
arranged many matters of considerable local importance to us. The Indian
Government owes him a debt of gratitude; I hope they will not forget it.
No one who knew _The Khwaja_, as he was familiarly known, could fail to
see in him the best type of Indian officer; and in his remote village of
Hamza Kot in the Yousafzai plain beneath the shadow of the Buner hills,
he will often recall the bleak but stirring days we worked together from
Givenchy and Festubert to Neuve Chapelle.
At Marseilles the Indian troops were camped in various localities either
in or within a few miles of the town. We had our field service tents,
and except for the surroundings and the awful state of the ground from
incessant rain, one might have been back in Northern India. But in those
early days of the war everything was new to all ranks, and no matter
what the discomforts it was a sudden drop into dreamland.
Take a look at the race-course by the sea. Leaning on the rails are
twenty or thirty French, men, women, and children, watching our Indian
soldiers cooking their evening meal; these have doffed their khaki
uniform and are now clothed in the scantiest of garments. They exchange
words, French and Hindustani; a French child offers one of them a sweet,
the Indian gives a chapatty in return; cigarettes are offered by a
passer-by; a Mahomedan pulls out from his haversack a bamboo flute and
plays a ditty; all laugh heartily. The West has already conquered the
East; the East has sown a seed which gradually grew until within a few
months Indians in Flanders were entering shops, bargaining and buying as
if they were to the manner born, and the vendors were even more civil to
them than to Europeans, and that is saying much for those fine people
the French.
What may eventually be the result of all the friendliness and
_camaraderie_ between the French and Indians is hard to say. It will
have its advantages; it will assuredly have its disadvantages. “East is
East and West is West”: the Ganges and the Seine flow in different
directions; the artificial meeting of these waters may not be an unmixed
blessing. The Hindu on his return to Kashi (Benares) or the Mahomedan at
his prayers at the Jumma Musjid at Delhi may think differently of the
white races across the sea to what he thought before the transports bore
him across the _kala-pani_, the black water.
However, although everything may be changed after this war, personally I
believe the East will return to its own ways, and very rightly so, and
that the next generation of ordinary Indians will talk of France,
Gallipoli, and Mesopotamia much as we do of the conquest of Mexico or of
Peru.
Whilst the Corps was collecting and getting re-equipped with new rifles,
etc., I was summoned to General Headquarters, on the Aisne, and
travelled _via_ Paris and thence by motor-car. At General Headquarters I
saw Sir John French, and learnt from him that our Army was very shortly
to be transferred from the Aisne to Flanders, and that the Indian Corps
was to hasten its departure and join them there; he indicated the region
of La Bassée, and although heavy fighting went on before we actually
took our place in the trenches, it was immediately west of La Bassée
that we eventually did so. He asked me many questions, and whether I had
anything particular to point out. My only request was that I hoped my
Corps would not be split up before we could be more or less
concentrated, for I had a very shrewd idea we should find ourselves in
trenches in Flanders and that the days of normal past European warfare
were near their end on the Western front. I was not far wrong, but, as I
shall show later, the situation was such when the Lahore Division
arrived, that several battalions were at once taken from their brigades
and thrown in anyhow with cavalry and infantry to help stem the German
rush between Ypres and La Bassée.
The times were abnormal and the necessity was great, but it was very
unfortunate for the Indian troops that before they had time to realise
their position, or gather whether they were facing east or west, they
were separated from their own British battalions and broken up into half
battalions and even companies, and rushed into the whirlwind of Ypres
amidst those who were strangers to them.
Then came realistically home to them the shortage of British officers.
Twelve was the total war complement per battalion—twelve marked white
men; nobly these and the gallant Indians did their duty, but the tempest
was on them and the British officers were practically blotted out. The
Indian officers and men fought fiercely, but notwithstanding that the
other British troops of all classes around them were setting a deathless
example of glory, the fact remained that the Indians were fast losing
the officers who knew them and whom they trusted beyond all things; and
of the strangers there were none who could talk their language or
understand them.
Those who take up the pen to criticise should first put themselves in
the place of these men, who had crossed the seas to fight for England,
without any personal cause in the quarrel, and inspired alone by the
duty they owed their King-Emperor because they had eaten his salt. It is
a story of loyalty never surpassed in the annals of history, but the
narration of these events will follow in the next chapter.
I returned to Marseilles, and was in Orleans a few days later; here the
two Divisions and all their belongings were being concentrated and moved
on, as equipped with mechanical and horse transport. The French General
in Command of the District was greatly interested in the troops and
witnessed a march past after an inspection parade.
The Indians were much impressed by the statue of Joan of Arc, which
stands in a large square of the town; they had just heard the story of
the Maid, and I saw them assembled in groups round the statue, and some
companies which happened to be passing came to attention and turned
their faces towards it. Could the Maid have ever dreamed that the Aryans
from the far waters of the Indus and the slopes of the great Himalayas
would one day learn to honour her as her own countrymen would do? But
every day in France in 1914–15 was a lesson in psychology.
The mechanical transport handed over to us at Orleans was a revelation.
The great retreat from Mons had taken its terrible toll, England was
being called on to face difficulties of sea and land transport undreamed
of but a few months previously; our armies were fighting for dear life,
and these must needs of course be supplied first, and yet that great
organiser Lord Kitchener had found it possible to send us motor
transport sufficient for our immediate needs, and all up to time. Indeed
it was we who had to hurry to keep pace with the urgent call from the
trenches.
Had the mechanical transport been the sole difficulty, that had already
been solved, but with the horse vehicles it was a totally different
affair. No need to dilate on this; we knew they were doing their best
for us and we meant to do our best with what was given us; but in truth
the medley of carts of every description that met my eye the first
morning at Orleans was enough to turn one’s hair grey.
A vast plain, now converted into a bog, was literally strewn with
vehicles and horses; every species of conveyance found a place, and the
fair at Nijni Novgorod could not have shown greater variety; the
char-a-banc and the baker’s cart; structures on prehistoric springs;
pole and draught harness; horses in hundreds without collars, head or
heel ropes—in fact, just loose. It might have appeared grave if it had
not been so amusing. But the cart horses and harness were all as nothing
to the drivers. Good fellows, who a month later had become useful
soldiers, to-day they were indeed a sore trial. I went round to one
diminutive man and said, “Do you know anything about horses?” “I do
not,” was his reply. “How many days have you been a soldier?” “Thirteen
days.” He was doing his best to find his horses, which in company with
many others were taking a stroll along the banks of the Loire anywhere
within five miles of the camp. I liked that man.
Such were some of our first trials, but what minute ones in comparison
to the real ones we should soon be facing. The Indian soldiers could not
understand all these things! The motor lorries were new to them, and
they simply took it for granted that in a European war everything was
going to be new. But to see hundreds of magnificent horses wandering
about because there was nothing to fasten them with, and drivers who
were very much at sea, with a force going into the field, they did not
understand. They have learned a good many things since.
Of all arms of the Indian Corps there was one not surpassed in any
army—the Field Artillery. True, that to furnish the British equivalent
of a corps in guns many other divisions in India had lost their
brigades, but the artillery as it stood was near perfection. Superbly
horsed; with officers and men who had been trained on excellent and
varied manœuvre grounds; comparatively old, and in every respect highly
disciplined soldiers; the field artillery I had in France was a thing
any General might well envy. And moreover, as it was put to no such test
as the Mons retreat it went into action fully equipped, and remained
throughout the year the Corps was in France a fine fighting machine.
Officers and men disappeared as in other brigades of the Expeditionary
Force, but the nucleus remained, and improved as time went on.
The Indian Divisions had each an entire regiment of cavalry attached as
Divisional troops, and in addition a battalion of Pioneers, and in this
respect were ahead of British troops in organisation. These Pioneer
battalions proved of inestimable value, being trained in various kinds
of technical work as well as all ordinary fighting duties. In addition
each Division had two companies of Sappers and Miners; acknowledged by
all who have ever seen them in the field to be some of the finest
engineer troops in our army.
The Indian _kahars_ or stretcher-bearers attached to the field
ambulances are a peculiarity of India. In France they did most excellent
work; purely non-fighting men, they are callously brave under fire,
going about their duty with a calm air which appears to say, “I am not a
fighting but a healing man, therefore they will never shoot me”—for this
in fact is what one of them said to me. The _kahar_ of course takes his
chance, but I doubt if that man had ever heard of the Huns.
On the 18th October two Brigades of the Lahore Division left Orleans and
were on the Flanders front by the 21st, and the Meerut Division
following them reached St. Omer by the 29th of the month. These were
followed by the Secunderabad Cavalry Brigade and Jodhpore Lancers, and
thus the whole of the Corps that had so far arrived in France was at
last facing the Germans.
A great surprise to me, once we found ourselves in Flanders, was the
ease with which everything worked. The Indian troops, as is well known,
have their own peculiar customs. Their religious scruples and their
feeding have to be arranged for on lines entirely different to British
soldiers. All these details might reasonably have been expected to cause
considerable difficulties, but we had been preceded by Staff Officers
conversant with all the requirements, and General Headquarters gave such
a free hand in these matters and so readily fell in with every
suggestion which they felt was necessary, that in a very few days things
were working more smoothly than in India itself, where unfortunately red
tape, Babus, and Returns clog the wheels to such an extent as to render
the machinery frequently almost immovable.
India was now to be put to the test. Thirty, and even twenty, years
previously it had been looked upon as the best training ground for the
army. Indian campaigns had produced many distinguished soldiers. Names
like those of Nicholson, Colin Campbell, Havelock, Roberts, had
immortalised its army; and only recently Lord Kitchener had reorganised
it, but the years of desert warfare in Egypt and the war in South Africa
had shorn India of many of its attractions. It was no longer looked on
by many good soldiers as the best, or even as a good school. I had known
some who had refused high commands; others who felt European war was in
the air and had no intention of cutting themselves adrift from home,
where lay the best chance of being employed. For me personally there was
the ever-present knowledge that but few of those directing the great
military machine in France knew anything about the Indians, and yet the
very nature and composition of the corps must be thoroughly recognised
if the fullest advantage was to be taken of it. We did know,
fortunately, that His Majesty the King not only had his Indian soldiers’
welfare at heart, but also that we should always have his earnest
support, and this was a tower of strength to us. We knew also that Lord
Kitchener would watch our progress and back up our needs.
So far so good, but something more was needed. Did our immediate
commanders grasp the fact that our strength in bare numbers as compared
with a British Army Corps was 5400 bayonets short? Did they realise that
our reinforcements were precarious, and had to come thousands of miles
across the seas? They could not know what I did, viz. that a very large
proportion of our reservists, which must form a great part of such
reinforcements, were quite useless for European warfare, owing to the
pernicious reserve system then prevailing in India. Could they tell that
the drafts, before many months had gone by, would begin to consist of
recruits enlisted immediately before or during the war?
A former War Minister in England had once told me that in four months
Britishers could be turned into good soldiers, fit to fight in Europe.
Perhaps he was right; perhaps this great war has proved it; but “East is
East and West is West,” and notwithstanding my admiration for the
Indians and believing them to be first-class fighting material, I can
positively assert that it is impossible to make good soldiers of them in
four months or even in a much longer period. Education, temperament, the
difference between having and not having a cause in the quarrel, must
perforce be considered. From the day I left India I had revolved all
these matters in my mind, and now the time had come when we must put our
whole soul into the battle.
The day of my arrival at St. Omer, the British Headquarters, was indeed
one to be remembered. Asia had dropped into Europe; the descendants of
Timour, of Guru Govind, of the ancient Hindus, had come to fight the
Huns on the historic plains of Flanders. Seventy miles in a direct line
from us lay the immortal field of Waterloo; seventy-five miles away were
the cliffs of Dover. The man must have been carved out of wood who would
not have rejoiced at his good fortune; the heart atrophied that did not
beat the faster at the thought that he was given a chance, however
humble, of taking his share in the greatest conflict of all times.
As I motored to General Headquarters, methought the temple bells on
Ganges banks were ringing, and the millions of devotees offering their
prayers for their loved ones so far away, in a land which none could
conjure up even in imagination. The voices of the muezzins were
ascending from thousands of mosques, from the Afridi hills to the Deccan
plains and away beyond, calling on Allah to protect their kith and kin
and give them victory. The Golden Temple of Amritsar was sending up its
call to Ishwar, with _fatehs_ for the soldiers of the Khalsa. On the
mighty Himalayas, the home of the Highlanders of Nepal, the sturdy
little Gurkhas, I could see many thousands who knew nothing of Europe or
any land beyond their own, but who did know that their kinsfolk could
die like men, and they were calling in their simple faith on the Creator
to watch those who from loyalty to their King-Emperor had crossed the
great unknown sea. And then the car stopped, and my vision faded, for I
was at General Headquarters, and on a large table covered with small
flags was the map of the British trenches, and standing beside it was
the Field-Marshal Commander-in-Chief.
I had only met Sir John French three times in my life, but even had I
never met him before I would have been glad to serve under his command,
for he spoke so directly and with a manner that proved his sincerity and
his confidence in himself and his army. There was no bluster, but just a
man in high authority speaking to another, who, he recognised, had a
difficult task before him and meant to do his level best. I went away
happy.
I once asked one of my African soldiers, “Who is the greatest man in the
world?” He promptly answered, “You are.” I asked him why, and he
replied, “Because you are my Commander-in-Chief.” Simple fellow, but I
felt rather like him for the moment.