THE COMMANDANT’S FAREWELL.
There was no mock hilarity on the final morning. We had too much to
do. Kits had to be packed, books returned, the hut scrubbed out, and
everything left shining and in order, for the pride of an army is
‘handing over’ in a spotless condition. That is always a good test of
a well–trained and disciplined unit. Hitherto we had not been bothered
about falderals; we were learning and swotting, and the commandant
had little use for eye–wash. But this day we knew he expected to see
tables—nay, floors—off which a king might eat his food. The ‘Old Man’
was not disappointed, for we all desired to leave the school with his
fatherly benediction.
The boys were a bit sad. Tosher, Beefy, Nobby, Ginger, Billy, and
myself—thanks to the good offices of Captain Cheerall—were to be
gazetted to the same battalion. This was a piece of luck. But there
were other good friends who were being scattered to the four ends of
the earth. Many were bound to be killed; others we might never come
across again. They were our brothers–in–arms, and we loved them as
only men can love. The war and the army had opened our hearts. We
men of all classes, all professions, have been linked into a loving
community, which only death can sever.
‘Stand to your beds!’ roared the sergeant–major. We sprang to
attention, and the colonel entered. His keen eye saw everything
spotless and shining. He smiled and muttered, ‘Splendid,
men!—splendid!’ and went off round the other huts. When this was over
we were marched to the lecture–room to hear the ‘com.’s’ farewell.
‘Gentlemen,’ he said, ‘this will be a happy day for you. You are going
forward. The King’s commission will shortly be yours. You will join
battalions already famous. The good name of those regiments and the
honour of our country will then be in your keeping. We have done our
best for you, and I feel you will not let this school down. We have
had our hard times, our sad times, also our jolly times, together. No
doubt you were often bored, and did your share of grousing. That is
only human. If you cannot see a marked improvement in yourselves, I
can see it in you. You were more or less rebellious when you arrived.
You all had different ideas of discipline, training, tradition, and
_esprit de corps_. Many of these ideas were sound; others were not at
all practical. But by steady grinding, patient teaching, and persistent
application, my staff have created at least a seed–bed in good soil,
and it is for you to develop the fruits of our instruction. We have
not aimed at making you generals. Our job was to make you subalterns.
There are other schools to teach you the arts of the higher command.
Perhaps this elementary curriculum was too slow for the more brilliant;
but these bright ornaments must remember that in a school like this we
have to adapt our arrangements to the intellect of the majority, and
not of the minority. The brainy minority can take care of themselves.
It is for us to help the less fortunate, and give them confidence and
the hall–mark of efficiency. I have a reason for making this remark,
for I know we have intellectuals here, and I should regret if they left
feeling we have not given them enough.
‘You must also remember that your training has been crammed into four
months instead of three years, as we used to put in at Sandhurst. We
are at war, and we cannot go into the bowels of everything. Still,
considering all our disabilities, such as the absence of many brilliant
men at the Front, I do feel we have reason to think that, on the
whole, the course has been successful.’
‘Hear, hear, sir!’ we shouted.
‘I said, at the beginning, you will no doubt feel glad at going
forward. I also am glad; but I am sorry too. This has been the most
interesting of all my “courses,” and there are faces I shall miss, even
that of my good Canadian friend, who, I understand, rejoices in the
remarkable sobriquet of “Tosher.”’ (Loud laughter.) ‘I can assure you,
gentlemen, I have learnt a lot from you. Here we have a pleasant mixing
of the classes and the masses; also a sprinkling of splendid fellows
from overseas. This confirms my view that ours is a Democratic army,
also an Imperial army. I rejoice! This is a splendid signpost to the
future. When the job is done, we shall settle down more friendlily,
without the class distinctions and the horrible class war that were
the curse of this country prior to 1914. You will also be interested
to hear that, if you men are going forward, I too am about to receive
promotion. I am taking unto myself a charming lady’——
We cheered tremendously. (By the way, the lady in question was none
other than my aunt Jane!)
‘Yes—and next week I leave the school and the army—for ever. I am old
now. My day is done. I came back again only to help the Old Land in its
hour of pain and woe. Yet I think I have the wisdom of my race. This
is a young man’s war. It is not for me to keep youth and vigour back;
to stand a bulwark against progress, and put back the clock, so that
I, a soldier of the past, may continue to enjoy the fruits of command.
No! That is folly! We must win this war. Age cannot do it! It is beyond
us! To youth we must hand the sword and the laurels! And yet, when I
take off my Sam Browne belt and shove on my tweeds, I shall feel like a
captain without a ship, like a man without a cause. However, there’s my
lady. She will help me through!’
‘Hear, hear, sir!’
‘Another intimation. My successor is Captain Cheerall. This officer is
of the Old Army, yet of the New. To me he has been a loyal colleague,
a zealous friend, and an invaluable assistant. He is an extraordinary
compound of intellect and emotion. Every time he talks to me, I feel
I must clap him on the back. The school is, therefore, in good hands.
When I have gone, perhaps the intellectuals will not feel so bored.’
‘You never bore us, sir,’ shouted Ginger, and all of us gave a cheer.
‘Thank you, gentlemen. Your kindness will lighten my coming darkness.
But it’s of you I must speak. Do not think me a great Christian, for
I am not. But this war, somehow or other, has brought me face to face
with the fact: IT IS A HOLY WAR. We are not out for LOOT. We are
out for PRINCIPLES. It is our testing–time. GOD and THE BRUTE are
struggling for mastery. The religion, the morality, the safety of
nations, mothers, and babes are in your keeping. Should we lose, the
Cross will lose. I do beseech you to think it out, to lead clean lives,
to go forward with the heart and aim of crusaders. It is not a burden!
It is a privilege! There is no question of false glory. It is DUTY! And
DUTY is the hall–mark of honour. Would to God that I were as young as
you, so that I might fight the good fight and lead you on! Again, you
have all got mothers, sisters, sweethearts; some of you have wives,
perhaps bonny little babes. It is for you to guard them. The dripping
sword must not be seen by their eyes, nor their blood stain your
hearths. Think of Belgium! Think of Serbia! Think of Rumania!
‘Do not waste your time hating! Your work is KILLING. War is Germany’s
religion! Brutality is her philosophy! Domination is ever her aim and
vaunted creed! _You must destroy the loathsome gods of Germany._
‘Well, gentlemen, I think that is all. I shall watch your careers. I
shall keep your records in my study. Each great deed will be noted in
my little book. The higher you go, the more I shall be pleased. And
never think of me as your commandant. Think of me as your friend, as a
father—for to me you’re boys, just dear boys, and I love you because
you are going forth to help this dear Old Land.
‘Good–bye,’ he said with emotion, and turned away.
Tosher Johnson led a terrific cheer, and cried, ‘Let’s carry the Old
Man round.’ We rushed him, lifted him high on our shoulders, and
carried him across to the officers’ mess, singing:
‘For he’s a jolly good fellow,
For he’s a jolly good fellow,
For he’s a jolly good fellow,
Which no cadet denies.
‘Hip—hip—hooray! Hip—hip—hooray! Hip—hip—hooray!’
Thus the New Army parted from the Old.
Edinburgh: Printed by W. & R. Chambers, Limited.
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE:
—Obvious print and punctuation errors were corrected.