CHAPTER XVI

THE TRAINING OF THE CAVALRY OFFICER

“However much thou art read in theory, if thou hast no practice

thou art ignorant. He is neither a sage philosopher nor an acute

divine, but a beast of burden with a load of books. How can that

brainless head know or comprehend whether he carries on his back a

library or bundle of faggots?”--SADI, _Gulistan_, p. 273.

As each year passes it appears to be more difficult to get officers

for the cavalry, consequently any attempt to state what is the best

way to train them is always subject to the proviso of the old-time

cookery-book, “First catch your hare.” We all know the type of officer

required, but we are also aware how hard it is to get him. He has been

described over and over again, and can be seen in any cavalry regiment;

a man who combines an addiction to, and some knowledge of, field

sports, involving horses, with sufficient intelligence to pass into

Sandhurst. In order to catch this hare, mess expenses in cavalry have

been reduced to a minimum. He is given chargers by Government; they are

hired by him if used for other than military purposes, but otherwise

they are not paid for. Uniform has been made less expensive. Finally,

examinations have been relaxed, though certainly an increase of pay

has not yet been tried. And still parents and guardians hesitate to

send their sons into a service which affords a better training and

discipline of mind, body, and manners for the first few years, than is

available in any other profession.

Extravagances in the old days have frightened candidates for cavalry

commissions away. The more irresponsible press write against the

Cavalry.[67] Fewer country gentlemen can afford the requisite allowance

to their sons.[68] Expenditure all round has increased, whilst incomes,

at any rate those derived from land, have shrunk. More youngsters go

abroad to the colonies. “How hardly shall the rich man enter” the

barrack gate now, when so much more work is to be done![69] All honour

to him when he does so, and sticks to his profession. Hard work,

danger, adversity are the making of a man, and those who fear or shirk

such are not likely to make good cavalry officers, or, for the matter

of that, good citizens of the Empire. A short comparison of the life

of the cavalry officer thirty to forty years ago and nowadays may

elucidate this to some extent.

Then, as a rule, throughout the winter one parade per week, a horse

parade on Saturday, took place. The officer who could afford to do so

could hunt every day in the week as long as he went round his stables

once during the day. Only the orderly officer (and often his belt was

taken by the adjutant, or riding master, or a sergeant-major in the

winter) remained in barracks. Sometimes there appeared in orders for

Saturday: “Riding School for officers not hunting.” In the summer there

were no manœuvres, and only in very exceptional cases was there brigade

training. A regimental parade under the C.O. once a week. An adjutant’s

drill (only officers junior to the adjutant being present) once a week.

All training of men, and they were of longer service then, was done

by the adjutant and regimental drill instructors; men and horses were

handed over, theoretically ready for the ranks, to the troop officer.

To sum up, then, the pay was nominal, and the enforced work was ditto.

Nowadays young officers begin work at daybreak and go on till midday,

1 o’clock, or perhaps till 3 P.M. The squadron officer is now training

a succession of men for the Reserve. There is winter training, then

squadron training, regimental, brigade, and possibly divisional

training. The men are trained to a much higher standard, and they are

trained now by the squadron officers and not by the adjutant and his

staff.

The nation, supremely ignorant in regard to the detail of military

matters, hardly appreciates the fact (i.) that nowadays a cavalry

officer does at least twice as much work as he did formerly, and (ii.)

that the cavalry officer not only devotes his life to a patriotic idea,

but must also devote a large portion of his income, at least £200 to

£300 a year, to the same purpose.[70] (iii.) The emoluments which he

derives from the public purse are, if anything, less nowadays than a

hundred years ago.

The old type of cavalry officer, who joined the service for the

amusement to be derived from it, is scarcer; but still he is to

be found, and he faces hard work cheerfully and well. Against the

discouraging influences, and the worst of these is “worry” substituted

for “work,” he has his _esprit de corps_ and a fondness for the life,

which is an open-air one, and in many respects an interesting one.

For the first few years or so of his service an excess of book

knowledge is not required, but it is desirable that the young cavalry

officer should be able to express himself clearly in words or on

paper, and this he must gain by thinking clearly. Let us consider his

duties in those first years, and then we shall see what to teach him.

The principle has always been maintained that it is right to work

him hard when he first joins, and later he can drop into the pace of

the remainder. You must teach him to ride and to train a horse. A few

officers can do this when they join, and think they are fit to pass out

of the riding school at once. But this is not the case; they have next

to learn to teach others. Again, he must learn to shoot. He must learn

to groom and shoe a horse, and to apply simple remedies. He must learn

the few main rules of tactics, reconnaissance, and scouting. He must

learn cavalry pioneering. He must learn to use his personal weapon on

foot and horseback. All these he must learn, not merely so that he is

able to do them himself, but so that he may be able to instruct and be

an example to others. He will be taught the care of his men’s health

in barracks and on service. He may even be taught book-keeping, and he

will certainly learn something of house economy on the mess committee.

But the high-spirited youngster whom we want, and who can leave the

service when he wants to, must in some respects be treated like a blood

horse, whom we feel we can guide, but cannot stop at a single stride’s

notice, as we could a temperate old horse. We must preserve his verve

and desire to take the initiative, even if it occasionally leads him to

do wrong, when we should remember the great legal maxim, “If the heart

is right,” and also our own youthful days.

The addiction to manly, and especially to rough and dangerous, field

sports must be regarded as an immense asset towards efficiency for war.

Time spent in the chase, “the image of war,” must not be regarded as

so many hours less given to his employer by the cavalry officer. We

particularly want the hunting breed of man, because he goes into danger

for the love of it.[71] He must also be able to perform any of the

diverse duties which he may be called on to carry out on service, such

as to fortify a village, construct a pontoon, court-martial a prisoner,

and so on.

It is very desirable that he should have as much as possible

practically taught to him. A knowledge of the tactics of the other

arms should be gained thus, and we are responsible for giving the

opportunities, since this will not and cannot be learnt theoretically;

_verb. sap._ Officers, _faute de mieux_, should be sent to infantry

camps and artillery practice camps, not to gun and company drill. This

attachment to other arms is carried out by some nations, and especially

France, to a far greater extent than in our service. It is invaluable

in breaking down the watertight compartment system of training, and in

establishing a closer union of arms.

The elements of strategy should also be taught. A few good lectures by

an officer who has a taste for this will teach more than a six months’

poring over books, for which during his first three years a young

officer has little time to spare. At the same time the genuine soldier

cannot but be interested in questions of strategy. A knowledge of it

gives an entirely new aspect to what might otherwise appear rather dull

history.

Then you may say that after three years of this “our young officer is

complete and a valuable asset”?

“Far from it.”

“But what more can be asked of him? This covers the complete syllabus,

appendices, etc., etc.”

“There is one thing without which all this is as ‘that which profiteth

not.’”

“And that is?”

“He must have a strong sense of DUTY, without which he is ‘as sounding

brass or a tinkling cymbal.’”

Now man is not born with a sense of duty (though the most riotous young

hound often becomes the best in the pack); it has to be taught; it

has to be learnt practically as well as theoretically; it has to be

borne in on him by precept and example as an excellent, a noble and a

desirable thing, a thing in which to glory. What is it? The abnegation

of self, the working for the good of all, _in foro conscientiae_, and,

above all, without making difficulties.

The French _Manuel du gradé de cavalerie_, p. 12, gives the following

definition: “Le dévouement, le sentiment généreux qui pousse l’homme

à faire le sacrifice de sa vie pour le salut de la patrie et de ses

semblables.”

He must learn that the “superiority which disciplined soldiers

show over undisciplined masses is primarily the consequence of the

confidence which each has in his comrades” (Von der Goltz, _Nation in

Arms_, p. 162).

The young officer begins by having a pride in his troop, squadron,

and regiment, by trying by his own individual exertions first to make

himself fit to lead and instruct, and next to make his own unit better

than others. If he does not set the example of being better than

others, he will not render much help to the men serving under him. They

will look to him, admiring what is good in him and despising what is

bad, summing him up, weighing him in mind, if not in words, as they see

him.[72] And the eyes of a regiment see everything. He must be a very

acute dissembler who can escape the five hundred pairs of eyes which

watch him at every turn. This alone is a good training for any man.

Very much indeed naturally depends on the influences under which an

officer falls on joining a regiment.

A strict but just commanding officer, who works, but does not worry,

the men under him, makes not only a good regiment, but a regiment

which will fight well in war, whilst a slack and indulgent commanding

officer, even if just, will soon lessen a regiment’s discipline to

an extent which will render it of little value in war. In peace, to

be sure, no one takes much notice of this fact, but in war the slack

commanding officer becomes an object of detestation to all concerned,

and he invariably “lets in” every one. He is most despised by the very

men whom he tries to save from dangers. It is a curious fact in human

nature that usually they think he is doing this because he himself is

afraid.

If, however, there are altogether some four or five really good

officers of various ranks in a regiment, their influence and

peace-activity will save the regiment from much that even a slack

commanding officer can do to its detriment. All young officers fall

under their influence, and there remains a substratum of rock under the

shifting sands.

Von der Goltz says (_Nation in Arms_, p. 144): “Every regiment brings

into the field a certain character of its own.” That character depends

on its officers--often on one officer long since dead and gone. In one

regiment the shoeing was remarkably good; it transpired that a former

colonel, a martinet dead thirty years before, used to “break” the

farrier if a horse lost a shoe in the field.

With his duties and his sports, for the first two or three years in a

good regiment, the subaltern has no time to think, and if he is the

right man in the right place, enjoys himself thoroughly.

Let us now hark forrard to the full-fledged cavalry officer of three

to seven years’ service who is learning to command a squadron, and may

find himself doing so often enough. He has now time to look round,

and much depends again on the tone of the regiment and the man himself

whether he takes to his profession seriously or “soldiers” on to pass

the time pleasantly. He may aspire to be a staff officer, or a good

regimental officer, or may have no aspirations.

With the staff officer we are not concerned; what we are now

considering is, What process will render the regimental cavalry officer

of most value to the service? Constant drills and parades will not do

so; they belong to the past. To put first spit and polish and show

parades is a thing of the past in nearly all minds. But this must not

be taken to mean that drill is not necessary. Those who have led in war

drilled and undrilled men aver, with reason, that smooth, easy working

and confident leading only exist where the men have been carefully

drilled. A good deal can be done at a slow, go-as-you-please pace with

semi-drilled intelligent men, but they have no chance, especially in

cases of emergency, against men of lower intelligence, well trained by

the officer who leads them. Drill in the evolutions necessary in the

field is consequently essential to a high standard of fighting ability.

To drill well largely resolves itself into the power to observe

and correct faults in such a way that the impression remains. The

experienced drill and the coach of a racing eight know by experience

that, owing to the imperfections of man’s nature, they are bound to

meet with certain faults which will have an unsteadying and deterrent

effect on the squadron’s or boat’s progress. They address themselves

to the correction of these characteristic faults, explaining their

reasons, often affecting decorative, if forceful epithets, similes, and

expressions, just as a preacher or orator does, in order to give point

and pungency to his discourse and to make it remembered. Von Schmidt in

his _Cavalry Instructions_ usually details at the end of each paragraph

bearing on an evolution or practice their characteristic faults, and

the cause, effect, and cure of these. Primed with a knowledge of these,

and possessed of some small power of explanation, the squadron or troop

officer will soon make an astonishing difference in his command’s power

of evolution. Without them, he too often gropes in the dark.

What we would suggest, then, is to encourage this officer (i.)

constantly to practise the situations in which he and his men may find

themselves in war, and (ii.) to train and exercise his command so that

it is difficult for circumstances to arise of which they have not had

some previous experience;[73] (iii.) to practise giving short verbal

orders in the saddle in proper form (_vide_ _F.S.R._, Part I.) till

it becomes a second nature, both in himself to give orders thus, and

his command to place those orders in their mind and act upon them in a

logical sequence; (iv.) to become by practice a person of resource, and

to train his men so that they become “handy men,” _e.g._ able to get a

waggon up and down a steep slope, or improvise rafts, etc., or to place

a farm in a state of defence, and to do so quietly and in an orderly

manner; (v.) to be himself a capable master of his weapons, and able to

instruct intelligently; (vi.) to know the situations in which a battle

on a large scale may place him, and to be able to foresee what are the

probable opportunities of which he may have to take advantage, and so

to train his men that they will act with intelligence in such cases.[74]

Here we must pause whilst we make it plain that the really stupid man,

who has no imagination, makes a very bad officer for training purposes,

because in peace-time he is quite unable to picture to himself what

does happen in an action. The same unfortunate trait makes him a bad

leader in war, because he is unable to picture what the enemy will

most probably do in certain cases. In the cavalry this type of officer

has no place, even in the lower ranks, because the cavalry officer so

frequently has to act by himself, and then the fate of an army may be

dependent on what he sees, or on the information which he sifts and

sends into the chief. As an infantry officer of the same rank he is

more under the eyes of a commanding officer.

What, then, are the conclusions at which we arrive?

1. That we draw on a class who have not been used to much brain work.

2. That the young officer should be for choice country bred, fond of

sport, a “trier,” and must have some private income.

3. That now he works much harder than he used to do, at first

especially; but the work is, or ought to be, congenial work. His pay

is the same as when he did little or no work in peace-time. So he is a

practical patriot.

4. That his work consists largely of teaching others.

5. That many of the attributes which are most desirable, can be tested

by no written examination.

6. That to recognize and do his duty is one of these. As regards this,

much depends on his surroundings in the regiment which he joins.

7. That a cavalry officer as he gets up to three to seven years’

service, though he requires little book learning, requires fairly wide

practical knowledge, also considerable powers of imagination; without

these, his abilities for training his men and for leading them in war

are likely to be defective.

8. Also that the main point which he must regard in all his training is

not only, “Is this a situation in which my command may find itself in

war?” but also, “Is there any situation in war in which my command is

not practised?”

Our Cavalry · 第 16 / 20 章