CONCERNING OFFICERS AND MEN
In considering the constituent elements of an army, the first avenue of
thought must lead to the primary essential--discipline. The realization
of this most important military virtue is one of the most difficult for
the young soldier to apprehend and appreciate, and yet it must underly
the whole system of the army. By discipline, I do not merely mean
smartness, which is involved in quick and correct response to the word
of command; that, of course, is part of it; but I refer more
particularly to that grip of self which enables a man to force himself
into subjection to authority, which may be entirely inimical to his own
will. One of the most striking illustrations of this remarkable mental
condition came under my notice on October 27, 1914. I had ridden up to
the front to see some of the men in my Brigade. The Grenadier and Scots
Guards had for days been holding the line with dogged pluck, and now had
withdrawn from the trenches for a brief respite from their most arduous
duties. Falling back a mile or so, they were rejoicing in the prospect
of a hot meal. Very speedily the trench fires were dug, and the
dixies[2] were filled with a savoury stew; the while the men were lying
about enjoying their well-earned rest. In the midst of their brief laze
an urgent order came down from General Capper, commanding the men to
return to the trenches immediately, as the enemy were approaching in
strong force. At once the brave lads kicked out the fires and stood to
attention, and moved off to a task from which many of them never
returned. An eyewitness assured me that the Brigadier[3] gave the order
in a voice which was broken with emotion, for he knew full well the
desperate nature of the task he was setting his men. In this grand
response to a most unpalatable order, the very highest discipline is
noticeable; it embodies such an act of devotion to duty as reveals that
mastery over self which lies at the very root of success in warfare.
Such a discipline cannot fail to evoke admiration wherever it is
witnessed. It is noticeable among officers and men alike, and tends to
weld both in that splendid spirit of comradeship which is so peculiarly
a feature of our army at the present time.
In considering the relationship of those in command and those commanded,
I must deal with them separately.
(1) Officers: Many years ago--I think it was during the Crimean
war--_Punch_ gave a very admirable setting of the British officer in two
phases. In one picture was a ball-room in which the whiskered exquisites
of that period were seen in the mazes of a dance, and underneath was
written: 'Our officers can dance.' The next picture revealed the same
men charging up to the guns at the head of their men, and underneath the
words: 'But by jingo they can fight too.' There is no doubt that the
English officer is good at enjoying himself, and no small blame to him,
but when it comes to the stern days of war, he is as keen and gallant as
ever. It must have struck the most casual observer that the proportion
of officer casualties during this war is entirely disproportionate to
the numbers engaged. Again and again this striking fact has met with the
severe stricture of those competent to judge; but it is useless to
attempt to alter the glorious traditions of the English army in this
respect: our officers will lead; and although it may be at a terrible
cost, the results are seen in the splendid backing up of the men. In the
early days of the war, on more than one occasion, I met with such a
remark from working men as 'Let the rich do their bit.' I hold that they
have done it, and done it magnificently. No one can read the list of
casualties without being struck with the enormous number of what I may
call the cultured classes which have fallen in the operations we are
engaged in. Indeed, there is hardly a titled family in England but is
mourning its dead. Our young officers are entering action with a wild
abandonment which it is impossible to realize unless witnessed. Writing
home to his people, a subaltern recently declared that he was at the top
of the fulness of life. Small wonder that our men will go anywhere and
do anything behind such magnificent leading as our officers are giving
them.
But this splendid attribute of the British officer is not only seen amid
the excitement of conflict. At the end of a weary march when all alike
are fagged out and ready to throw themselves upon the earth and rest,
the first consideration on the part of the officers is the men; their
food, their billets; and when these important questions are dealt with,
then, and not till then, with wearied frames, these gallant gentlemen
begin to think of themselves. This evokes a feeling which I may not
inaptly style, hero worship, on the part of the men. Frequently, in
describing the glorious death of some favourite officer, a man has said
to me, 'I loved him like a brother'; and this condition of regard is
mutual, for it is no uncommon thing (on the occasion of the departure of
the 'leave' train) to see an officer, frequently of senior rank, on
spotting in the crowd a non-commissioned officer, or private, from his
regiment, go up to him and with a hearty grip of the hand, say, 'Well,
my lad, hope you have had a good time!' Such a state of things would, of
course, be impossible in the German army, but we Englishmen have proved
that the most solid foundation of a true relationship between officers
and men is respect and love, and right happy are the results attained.
(2) Our men: It is not possible to speak too highly of the splendid
manhood embodied in our ranks to-day. Their language is certainly
reprehensible, but after all we must realize that their vocabulary is
not an extensive one, and the employment of adjectives which, to a
refined ear, sounds deplorable, is only used by them to describe an
intensity which no other words they possess would be capable of
rendering. I am, of course, not referring to blasphemy or obscenity,
which is immediately checked by every right-minded man in authority.
During the whole of my experience in Flanders, I did not come across
one case of drunkenness; my experience may be peculiar, but I do not
think so. To begin with, there is, of course, the very strong deterrent
of rigid punishment for such an offence. Again, there are not the
facilities for the purchase of strong drink, such as unhappily
characterizes the condition of affairs in Great Britain; but away and
beyond these preventives lies the fact that every man is imbued with the
idea that he must keep himself fit and 'play the game,' and the result
is that at the Front to-day we have a sober army. I cannot too strongly
warn the men who are at home, preparing for the Front, to watch
themselves closely in this respect, and for the following reasons:--
(a) A man who drinks renders himself physically unfit for the
tremendous strain involved by a campaign. A short time ago
I was travelling in France, from General Head-quarters to
Bailleul, and riding past a certain Brigade which had
landed two days prior, I was struck with the very
considerable portion of men who had fallen out on the
march. This was partly due to the very painful process of
marching over cobbled stones to which they were new, but I
knew full well that it was also attributable to the fact of
the soft condition which some of the foolish fellows were
in, through the unwise use of stimulants in the near past.
(b) Sobriety is an absolute essential, for again and again the
security of a Platoon, a Company, a Battalion, a Brigade, or
even of Division, may depend upon the alertness of a
sentinel.
We observe, therefore, the urgent importance of a man placed in so
responsible a position being in the fullest possession of his powers of
mind and body; therefore, I say with emphasis, and I say it to every man
going out, keep clear of the drink.
One cannot fail to be struck with the supineness of certain Generals
who, possessing the power of placing public houses out of bounds,
excepting for one hour morning and evening, yet allow the men under
their command to soak in bar parlours for hours at a time. There are
magnificent exceptions to this, and all honour to those Divisional
Commanders who have taken the trouble to ascertain the conditions of
social life under which their men exist when off duty, and who make
adequate provision for the ordinary means of recreation and enjoyment.
But to pass to the men of whom we are all so justly proud. Their
cheerfulness is truly remarkable, and indeed it requires somewhat of
the spirit of a Mark Tapley to 'stick it' in such weather as
characterized the campaign of last winter.
Their hopefulness, too, is a glorious possession, and a grand incentive
to any man. _Nil desperandum_ is the watch-word which flashes down the
ranks of our men, even in the tightest corners.
Their courage! who can describe it? for it stands at the very apex of
human glory. Again and again the enemy has paid admiring tribute to the
splendid dash and invincible determination evinced by our men. I am
confident that if it were only a question of man against man, the war
would speedily be ended.
I have had many opportunities of watching the fortitude of our brave
lads. I should be sorry indeed to attempt to describe what one has
witnessed in field dressing stations; suffice it to say that in moments
of greatest agony I have seen men bite their lips almost to the flow of
blood, rather than emit a groan. Such are the men to whom England has
committed her honour, her prestige, even her destiny; and the commission
has not been made in vain.
In dealing with 'our men' it would be a serious omission not to pay a
tribute to the remarkable collection of Imperial manhood which is now
gathered together under our flag. I need not refer to the Canadians or
Australians, for they are of our own flesh and blood, but the Indian
soldier deserves a word of high appreciation. Side by side with his
white brother in arms he has fought magnificently. True, his methods of
warfare are different, but in their own particular manner they are just
as effective. One of their officers described to me the very great
relish with which the Ghurkas approach a German trench. Slinking over
the ground with the stealthiness of tigers, kukri between their teeth,
they lie silently under the thrown up earth, then flipping a piece of
dirt into the air, wait for the German's head to be suspiciously raised;
a flash of the keen knife, and the German ceases to exist! No wonder
that such men are regarded with terror by the Huns. One day, when a
batch of prisoners were brought in, an Indian approached one of them
with a broad grin; displaying his teeth, which shone like pearls, he
proceeded to show his good feeling towards the German by stroking the
man, as a token of amity; but the poor fellow before him imagined that
he was seeking a soft place in which to insert his deadly knife, and
fairly howled with terror.
From a military point of view one of the strangest aspects of this
campaign has been the little use made of cavalry during the first battle
of Ypres, and indeed right up to the present the horses of our cavalry
have, for the most part, not been required. It was strange to see the
Household Cavalry working in the trenches side by side with infantry of
the Line, but doing their work as effectively, and uncomplainingly, as
any other section of the army.
As the winter draws on apace, the heart of England will once more open
in a response to the necessary comforts which her brave sons call for at
her hands, and for which they will not call in vain. Let me give a few
hints: Tobacco and cigarettes are, of course, always in demand, and
under the peculiar circumstances of this nerve-racking campaign, are
more or less of a necessity. Socks, too, are needed, for whether the
weather is hot or cold, socks will wear out. The men dearly love sweets,
such as toffee, chocolate, peppermints. Cardigan jackets--not too
heavy--are largely called for; a packet containing writing paper,
envelopes and an indelible pencil are very acceptable; woollen sleeping
helmets, and, of course, mittens will not be refused; boracic acid
powder for sore feet; anything to do with a shaving outfit (especially
safety razors) are gladly welcomed. From country districts a local paper
means a great deal to a man, for it keeps him in touch with home
affairs. But above all, keep up a regular correspondence with your men;
it is difficult for the home folk to realize how much a letter means. A
striking object lesson is afforded on the arriving of a mail, by the
hurried withdrawal of the fortunate receivers of letters from the mail
bag, like the lions at the Zoo which, on receiving their food, withdraw
to enjoy it in solitude. In a word, our men are worth all you can do for
them; do not spare yourselves in alleviating the inevitable discomforts,
privations and trails which are involved in such work as they have set
themselves to accomplish.
FOOTNOTES:
[2] Dixies: camp kettles.
[3] Brigadier-General Ruggles Brise, who was very badly wounded shortly
afterwards, and returned to England.
THE WORK OF A CHAPLAIN IN THE FIELD