HISTORY AND ESPRIT DE CORPS.
‘It is a good thing, gentlemen, to cull the best from the past, and
never to ignore it,’ said Captain Cheerall at another lecture. ‘If our
fathers frequently blundered through, they did so heroically. No army
is blessed with such high traditions, such records of chivalry and
glory, as ours; yet, like all other armies, it has frequently failed.
We do not claim to have been invincible. We have no desire to get out
on the house–tops to boost our army. But we have a right to know and be
proud of the battle honours on our flags.
‘This, you may think, is a new line of thought for me, the arch–priest
of the present and the future. Well, my reason for reminding you is
this: You are of the new faith, the new school, the New Army. Your
success has been wonderful, and in another lecture I have paid tribute
to your genius, courage, and patriotism. Now I want to remind you, not
of past follies, but of past glories. Military history glows with our
splendour. The small–minded person is very apt to remind us of our
failures in America during the American War of Independence, our awful
blunders in the Crimea, our shameful disorganisation in the early part
of the South African War. Such accusations are true. But if you study
these failures, get to know _why_ we failed and _where_ we might have
scored, and thus increase your professional knowledge. Never be afraid
to admit our errors, but take good care _never_ to repeat them. This
is a maxim you must ever bear in mind. Even in this war—at Loos, Neuve
Chapelle, Cambrai, and Gaza—there are instances where the human machine
went wrong, instances which afford you food for serious thought and
reflection.
‘But what I really want to concentrate on to–day is the spirit of
the British Army—that unconquerable soul which lightens a disaster,
sustains us in reverse, and proclaims to all the world that we
Britishers never know when we are beaten. That, gentlemen, is the most
priceless asset of our army. To understand this spirit you must look
at our history. You must dip into the annals of India, Egypt, Africa,
the story of the Peninsular War, or of Waterloo. In these tomes are
the deeds of your fathers. Our army never fights better than when it
struggles for a moral cause. We conquered Napoleon in the flower of
his strength, and in our hour of national weakness, because truth,
honour, and decency were on our side.
‘I do not say we have always been crusaders. There are wars in which
we have played an Imperial game. Yet, after deep reflection, I am
convinced some Power or Powers must be predominant in this world,
and this leads me to believe that a Power which is based on liberty,
equality, and fraternity is the Power entitled to impress its own
culture on the world. And we have always been civilising, always
pioneering, always trying to leave the world a little cleaner, a
little better, than we found it. This work has been supported and made
possible by the splendour of British arms.
‘What you must take from the past is the spirit of your fathers—the
simple faith, the sense of duty, the code of honour, and the love
of country which have been shown by the best of our men in all our
wars. And I do believe no man is cultured or efficient unless he has
a knowledge of history. This gives you the reason why. It prevents a
gross materialism from entering your soul. It takes self above the
battle, and enables you to realise that beyond the trials, the sorrows,
and the horrors of war there is a god–like spirit which is clean,
noble, and must, therefore, be triumphant. I am not sanctifying war,
for I loathe it; but I am deifying the moral force which is behind us,
for example, in this war. There never was a cleaner crusade.
‘Self–depreciation is characteristic of our race. We laugh at
ourselves, we call our brothers fools, and pillory our statesmen and
our thinkers. We are so tolerant, and possess such a sense of humour,
that no one gets much annoyed. This really is evidence of a certain
greatness. It means we are not sensitive, are without nerves, and are
always willing to hear the latest buffoon. Now, gentlemen, these are
not bad qualities. But unfortunately they are qualities which the
German exploits, with the result that he has made our name stink in the
nostrils of neutrals. We have been so indifferent, so careless, that
Hun libels have taken root, and now a Britisher is regarded by many
neutrals as the swashbuckler of the world. And this vile creed has been
imported even into our own country, perhaps into our army, especially
among later elements who do not understand why they were conscripted.
It is a dangerous growth, and must eventually become a poisonous weed.
You must root it out. Regimental history will help you to do so.
‘Whatever regiment you go to, you must first read its records, learn
its battle honours, get to know its heroes, study all its personal
traditions, and generally imbibe that _something_ which has made it
wonderful. There you are on sure ground. You can fascinate your men
with its stories of valour. You can thrill them with its pride. You
can cheer them with its humour. And you can make them love you by
displaying that intense devotion to all things pertaining to your
regiment. You will not do this in a day. But you can do it in a few
months. And _yours_ shall be the glory.
‘Some one has said that the path of duty is where honour lies. Our
military histories will corroborate that. White in Ladysmith, Gordon in
Khartûm, and Townshend in Kut are good examples of patient courage and
unselfish devotion. The death of Captain Oates of the Dragoon Guards
is a fine story, if not actually military. This British officer and
gentleman, when stricken with disease, walked out into the Antarctic
snow to die, rather than burden his companions and bring them to death
and disaster. There are thousands of anecdotes of this order. When you
read them your spine will thrill at the valour of your fathers.
‘And I should like you to study very closely the spirit of friendship
between the British officer and the private soldier. This is a
wonderful story. It shows we have discipline, and yet we have none. In
other words, it illustrates that we have got things done because the
men liked their officers, and not because they “had to.” You have to
discover that secret. It is easy to find. Frankness, courtesy, love,
and courage are the basic elements of the plan. The gentle patience,
the benevolent rule, and the paternal anxiety of our fathers were
wonderful things. They made the British Tommy the most faithful,
the most willing, the finest soldier in the world. He has no equal.
He will never let you down. But you cannot get the best out of him
unless you model your personal conduct on the lives of Kitchener,
Roberts, Maude, or Wauchope. These four men are pictures of simple
British gentlemen, with Christian instincts, a plain sense of duty, an
unalterable devotion to their country, and a _magnificent_ belief in
their fellow–men.
‘Again, I do want you to feel that a British officer is no vain person,
put up for the admiration or the subjugation of the mob. Do not be
a sabre–rattler. Let your demeanour to the civilian crowd be one of
chivalry. If we are democratic in our politics, all of us, even the
private soldiers, are aristocrats in temperament. We loathe a bounder;
we hate a prig, scorn a sneak, and curse a knowing fool. Carry the
white flower of a blameless life, and champion all things which make
for the propagation of truth, civilisation, and honour. You may even
take from the German his virtues, but you must leave him his vices. The
British officer is watched by millions of neutrals, and it is important
that his high calling should earn the approbation of their historians.
_Better to die for our chivalry than succumb to the bestial creed and
the foul dishonour of the Huns._
‘History, I say, will give you much. It will prove that there is a
wonderful fire and force in our race. Our island story is very well
summed up by Kipling when he says:
What should they know of England
Who only England know?
‘When you have travelled the Seven Seas; when you have walked in
the footsteps of frontiersmen, seen the Valhalla of heroes and the
sleeping–place of martyrs, watched tribes and nations of all creeds and
colours saluting the British officer and the British flag, it is then
you feel:
There is a voice divine,
And a mission that is high.
‘Gentlemen, here is the proof of our liberty and wisdom. At Gallipoli
are the graves of free Colonists with no ties to this country except
the ties of blood. Their country is a labour country. Imperialism is
banned. It is sometimes termed a democracy gone mad. Yet when Germany
threw down the gauntlet these freemen came forth to help the Old Land.
They died like Trojans. They died for LOVE. They died that we might
live. And their brothers to–day are dying in France. Side by side are
those wonderful Canadians, glorious Newfoundlanders, gallant South
Africans, brave Indians—indeed, all nations under the British flag.
They have not rendered lip–service. They have given the flower of their
land that this Old Country, the mother of Democracy, the breeder of
nations, and fount of tolerance, shall keep her lamps burning brightly
and repel the hordes who would destroy the Crucifix and deify the
sword. You can understand this devotion only by a study of the past.
‘When you have mastered military history, you will quickly grasp the
value of _esprit de corps_. You will know _why_ the Guards would scorn
to be called Highlanders; _why_ the Highlanders would shoot you if you
put them into the Guards; _why_ the K.R.R.’s want to beat the Rifle
Brigade, and _why_ the Rifle Brigade believe they are better than the
K.R.R.’s; _why_ Dragoons think themselves superior to Hussars, and
_why_ Hussars would sicken if you named them Dragoons; _why_ the R.H.A.
believe that the R.F.A. are not fit to lick their boots, and _vice
versâ_. Unimportant as these things may seem to the uninitiated, they
are really the basis of good work and true fellowship. This spirit is
the same as the spirit of the public schools. You will not find this
spirit in Germany. Force is the gospel of Germany, even in school
and in sport. _Force never made a gentleman or a great nation._ Let
me tell you a story. A broad–minded German was travelling past the
playing–fields of Eton before the war. He saw the boys playing Rugger,
Soccer, &c., and immediately ordered his car to stop. He sat for quite
a long time looking at the clean, bonny British boys playing their
games. Then he jumped up, took off his hat, and shouted, “Ah, mine
friends, I would lub to be one Breetish boy!”
‘That is a very great tribute from an enemy. To you we hand the
guardianship of that spirit. You must believe that to “play up, and
play the game,” is the noblest thing in life. You must live _not_ for
self, but for country. Your wealth, your gifts, your pleasures, even
your loved ones, must be surrendered at the call of duty. Duty is the
keystone of patriotism. And patriotism has made us what we are. The
defects of this system are outweighed by its virtues. “The word of an
Englishman” is all they ask of a Britisher in the Argentine. _But from
a Hun they demand an agreement, stamped, sealed, dated, and witnessed._
What finer tribute can you have to the spirit of our race?
‘An army, gentlemen, without a soul is a vile and cruel instrument. It
will commit excesses. It will rape, plunder, and demoralise. It will
stink in history, like the armies of Attila, Cortes, and the Kaiser.
We must avoid that. We cannot do so unless you leave this school with
a full knowledge of history, an appreciation of _esprit de corps_, a
love of the truth, and an adherence to the principles of justice. You
must all be Maudes and not Bernhardis; quit ye like men; do harm to
no child, no woman; so conduct yourselves that when you leave France
or Belgium the populace will line the route, strewing your path with
roses, and shedding tears for the dead who are gone and the living
heroes who are returning home.
‘It may be, of course, that many of you will not return, that you may
have to suffer torture at the hands of your enemy. Let death have no
terrors, for you shall pass to the Valhalla of heroes. Your name shall
be inscribed in the page of glory, and your memory shall shine like the
sun.
‘Gentlemen, words fail me. Emotion is knocking at my heart. But I feel
that I have shown you the soul of the British Army. Guard it! Cherish
it! Fight for it! And when this bloody war is over, the world will take
you into its arms, and God will proclaim, “Well done, thou good and
faithful servant.”’
A strange silence fell over the room as the lecturer finished. The
spell had not yet passed. Men had been transported from the sordid to
the higher things. But when the captain lifted his stick and gloves to
go, we burst into a wild hurrah.
* * * * *
That night Tosher, whom we dubbed ‘the Materialist,’ slipped out of the
hut about nine–thirty. He crossed the dark parade–ground, and made for
the officers’ quarters. On arriving at Captain Cheerall’s domicile, he
knocked at the door.
‘Come in.’
‘Say, cap., I’d like to swot up some of that history.’
‘I see! What can I do for you?’
‘Well, I guess you’d better lend me a book to get on with.’
‘Certainly. Here you are. Anything to oblige a good Canadian.’
‘Thanks, cap. And, I say’——
‘What?’
‘You were real good on that stunt to–day. Good–night, sir.’
‘Good–night, Johnson.’
When Tosher got to the hut, he looked at the book. It was entitled
_Deeds that Won the Empire_.