BLUE SHIRT AND KHAKI
[Illustration: Blue Shirt and Khaki at Malta.]
BLUE SHIRT
AND KHAKI
_A COMPARISON_
_By_ JAMES F. J. ARCHIBALD
_WITH ILLUSTRATIONS
FROM PHOTOGRAPHS
TAKEN BY THE AUTHOR_
SILVER, BURDETT AND
COMPANY, _NEW YORK_,
_BOSTON_, _CHICAGO_. 1901
Copyright, 1901, by
Silver, Burdett & Company
Press of I. J. Little & Co.
Astor Place, New York
To the Memory of My Father,
F. A. Archibald, D.D., LL.D.
Contents
CHAPTER PAGE
I. The New Soldier and His Equipment 17
II. British and American Recruits 38
III. The Common Soldier in the Field 60
IV. The Officers 90
V. American and British Tactics 121
VI. Feeding the Two Armies 147
VII. The Railroad in Modern War 171
VIII. Transportation of Troops by Sea 194
IX. The Last Days of the Boer Capital 217
X. The British in Pretoria 247
List of Illustrations
PAGE
A Guard at Pretoria 17
Captain Arthur Lee, R.A., _attaché_ with General Shafter in
Cuba 19
Captain Slocum, U.S.A., _attaché_ with Lord Roberts in South
Africa 19
British soldiers visiting the U.S. troop-ship _Sumner_, _en
route_ to the Philippines 23
British officers at Malta, watching the setting-up exercises
of American soldiers 27
A company of the Eighth U. S. Infantry in the field,
Lieutenant M. B. Stuart 33
A review of the Life Guards in London 33
Horse Guard on duty at headquarters, London 38
Possible candidates 41
Persuasion by sergeant-major 41
British recruits at fencing practice 45
British recruits at bayonet practice 45
A musician of the Gordon Highlanders, age, seventeen 51
A Boer fighting “man,” age, twelve. Twice distinguished for
bravery in action. He fought at Spion Kop, Colenso, Dundee,
and Ladysmith 51
Colonel Napier’s frame for recruit-drill at Aldershot 55
One of the exercises in British recruit-drill 55
Setting-up exercises of American soldiers during their visit
in Malta 58
Recruit drill in the British army 58
American cow-boy with Canadians in South Africa 60
Dangebhoy hospital cart used in South Africa 63
The Twelfth Lancers in South Africa 67
General French examining the enemy’s position during the
battle of Diamond Hill 67
Heliographing from Diamond Hill to Lord Roberts in Pretoria 71
Burial at Arlington of 426 American soldiers who fell in Cuba 77
Gathering the dead after the battle of Diamond Hill 79
American volunteer officer 90
A cadet drill at the West Point Military Academy 93
Generals Chaffee, Brooke, and Lee reviewing the army in Cuba 93
Major Eastwood, Twelfth Lancers 94
Colonel Beech, Egyptian Cavalry 94
Sir John Milbanke, V.C. 94
Colonel Chamberlain, Military Secretary 94
A Canadian officer 94
British Colonel of Volunteers 96
Colonel Peabody, U. S. Volunteers 96
Staats Model Schoolhouse, Pretoria, where the British officers
were first confined as prisoners of war 101
Barbed-wire prison, Pretoria, where the British officers were
confined after their removal from the city 101
Released British officers in Pretoria after the entry of Lord
Roberts 105
Native East Indian servants of British officers in South
Africa 105
Lieutenant-General N. A. Miles, U. S. A. 109
General French and staff, South Africa 113
American officers of the Eighth Infantry _en route_ to the
Philippines 113
General Ian Hamilton in South Africa 115
Brigadier-General Fitzhugh Lee, United States Army 118
Major-General J. R. Brooke, United States Army 118
American officer at Siboney 121
Boer fighting men watching a British flanking movement
during the battle of Pretoria, while building defenses 128
British soldiers pulling army wagons across a drift 131
Boer artillerists waiting under shell fire for the British
advance 133
The battle of Pretoria, June 4, 1900; Boer guns in action;
British advance along the first range of hills 137
The unpicturesqueness of modern war. In the range of this
photograph of the battle of Diamond Hill the hardest fighting
is going on. Twenty cannon and 3,000 rifles are firing, and
two regiments are charging; but no more can be seen than is
shown above 145
A difficult kopje; two hundred men are hiding behind the
rocks 145
U. S. Officer providing for feeding the poor 147
Camp of a transport train in General French’s supply column 151
A base of supplies at de Aar Junction 155
An improvised commissariat cart in South Africa 162
A soldier with three months’ provisions 169
Major Burnham, the American Chief of Scouts for Lord Roberts 171
The old and the new military bridge at Modder River 174
Defense of a line of communication in the Transvaal 176
Canadian transport at a difficult drift 181
Cape carts with British officers’ personal luggage; nearly
every officer had one of these carts 182
A British transport train on the veldt 183
Canadian transport at a difficult drift 187
The Guards and mounted infantry at Pretoria Station 191
Armament on an American transport 194
British soldiers leaving the _Sumner_ after having exchanged
uniforms with Americans 199
American transport _Sumner_ in the harbor at Malta 205
A British transport taken from the merchant marine 205
The Eighth United States Infantry going ashore for drill
at Malta 211
Colonel Jocelyn and Captain Croxton, Eighth U. S. Infantry,
at Malta 211
Mr. R. H. Davis in Pretoria 217
Consul Hay and Vice-Consul Coolidge bidding good-by to
Captain Slocum at Pretoria 222
A. D. T. Messenger James Smith in front of President Krüger’s
house, immediately after presenting the message from the
American children 226
The battle of Pretoria: Boers awaiting the British advance
under artillery fire 229
The battle of Pretoria: British naval guns shelling forts 229
General De la Rey and staff at Pretoria; his nephew, twelve
years old, is serving on the staff 232
Field cornets in Pretoria receiving orders from a general 233
Boer women bidding good-by to their men off for the front 235
Russian hospital corps with the Boers: the wounded man is
Colonel Blake, formerly U. S. A. 235
Boers under heavy shell fire, awaiting British advance
behind their defenses 243
Burghers’ horses during the battle of Pretoria 243
The Boer retreat from Pretoria 246
One of the Guards at Pretoria 247
General De la Rey and a group of his burghers while awaiting
a British attack 249
Lord Roberts’s advance bodyguard approaching Pretoria 251
British guns captured by the Boers 251
Lord Roberts and staff approaching Pretoria (Lord Kitchener
is on the white horse, Lord Roberts is the first leading
figure at the right) 253
Lord Roberts and Lord Kitchener with staff entering Pretoria
at the railway station, June 5, 1900. The two locomotives on
the right, with Boer engineers, were started immediately
afterwards in an attempt to escape to the Boer lines 255
Gordon Highlanders entering Pretoria, June 5, 1900 259
Types of the crowd who watched the British entry 259
Lord Kitchener bidding good-by to the foreign _attachés_
after the capture of Pretoria 265
BLUE SHIRT AND KHAKI
CHAPTER I.
The New Soldier and his Equipment
[Illustration: A Guard at Pretoria.]
When the Second Division under General Lawton swarmed up the fire-swept
hill of El Caney, through an unremitting storm of bullets, Colonel
Arthur Lee, of the British Royal Artillery, exclaimed, “I would not
have believed it!”
Two years later, when Lord Roberts’s army of ragged khaki poured into
Pretoria after their two thousand miles’ march from the Cape, Captain
Slocum, of the United States Infantry, said, “Tommy Atkins is certainly
a wonder.”
There is obvious reason for a detailed comparison between the fighting
men of the United States and Great Britain. They have more in common
than either army has with the soldiers of any other nation. They have
both during the last three years fought testing wars against other
civilized nations, in which they faced for the first time the new
conditions of modern warfare. The relative qualifications of the two
armies have a pressing bearing on the troublous questions of alliance
or disputes yet to be between them. When the soldiers of these two
nations meet now, each has a sense of their peculiar relation of
mutuality, which is made piquant by the uncertainty whether they will
continue to support one another, as in China, or whether there is an
evil day in store when they shall have to cut one another’s throats.
But whatever the uncertainty, and whatever the surface criticisms
which each passes upon the other, there is at bottom both respect and
fraternity on the part of each.
The American soldier to-day occupies a new place in the regard of the
world. Up to the campaigning of July and August, 1898, in Cuba, Porto
Rico, and Luzon, the military men of Europe were accustomed to think
of the fighting force of the United States as a thing too small to be
considered. They had forgotten the great Civil War, and they did not
comprehend our vast resources for a volunteer army. A standing army
of 25,000 men was insignificant to officers and statesmen who were
accustomed to estimate a national force in the terms of millions.
Consequently, the martial potency of the United States had fallen
into general contempt. This judgment, however, was wholly changed in
the space of a few months, and instead of considering our military
force on a level with that of some little South American republic,
Europe suddenly comprehended that there was a new military power in
the world which had not been taken into account. From the time that
over two million men responded to the President’s call for 200,000
volunteers--many of them fairly trained soldiers, and nearly all of
them skilled in the use of firearms--the sentiment of Europe was
changed.
[Illustration: Captain Arthur Lee, R. A., attaché with General Shafter
in Cuba.]
[Illustration: Captain Slocum, U.S.A., attaché with Lord Roberts in
South Africa.]
There was a more radical change in the public sentiment of England
than anywhere else. At the beginning of the Spanish-American War one
London paper said, “Now we will see the boastful Yankee go down before
the fighting Spaniard.” The general tone of the English press, if not
directly hostile, was not friendly. But a few exhibitions of American
arms changed the opinion to such a marked degree that soon there was
hardly a hostile paper in all England. This popular reaction in favor
of America is not, however, to be confused with the attitude of the
British Government, which had been friendly from the start, and which
had done our cause inestimable benefit through its forcible “hands
off!” communication to other European powers. Nevertheless, this
friendly disposition of the British Ministry was confirmed by its
perception of the increasing prestige of the American military force
both in England and on the Continent.
But if the American soldier seems only recently to have come to his
own in the appreciation of Europe, he has long been the same soldier
that he is to-day. To be sure, training and discipline have improved
him as a product; our officers have made the study of the soldier a
science, and each year has marked a finer adaptation of methods to
ends; Yankee ingenuity has had fewer traditional prejudices to overcome
than have prevailed abroad, and in the relations of officers and men,
in the development of each unit’s individuality as a self-reliant
intelligence, the later years have been a period of surprising
evolution. But, on the other hand, the American soldier’s native
quality is the same as in that Civil War which required four years of
more terrible slaughter than Europe ever knew before one side would
yield to the other. If we were always confident of him, our boasts were
founded on an experience of his fibre which Europe had not apprehended.
His valor, his quiet contempt of death, could not, in its most extreme
exhibition, surprise his own countrymen. The only thing that robbed the
gallant Hobson and his comrades of the highest distinction was that
several thousand others on the fleet were sick with disappointment that
they could not go in their place.
Nevertheless, the appreciation of Europe is agreeable, if belated.
The soldier of the Queen did not need a new opportunity to prove his
quality. From the time that Cromwell’s Ironsides made the chivalry of
the Continent to skip, Europe and America have had a steadfast respect
for the redoubtability of the British warrior. Moreover, he has been a
civilizing power throughout the world; wherever he has cleared a path,
commerce has followed. It has not always seemed like Christian justice
to hew a way for trade with a sword, or to subject an unwilling people
to a rule of might under which they chafe and fret; but there is always
one word of praise which can truthfully be said--the government that
reaches from London to the remotest quarters of the globe has made the
world better, happier, and securer, even through its conquests over
unwilling peoples. Redcoat and khaki have stood for order, and, in the
main and in the long run, for the largest justice to the largest number.
The time-honored phrase about the flag and trade is true. But few
pause to consider the cost that is paid by the men of the empire who
carry the flag forward that trade may follow. When the Queen issued
the proclamation of war against the two republics nestled in the heart
of South Africa, the world looked on and pitied the little States,
and averred that such a war could not last more than a few weeks; but
President Krüger said, “If England plants her flag on this land she
will pay a price in blood that will stagger humanity.” She has paid
that price for more than a year, and the payment is not yet complete.
Never before has she paid such cost in the blood of her own sons. This
is not the place to discuss the right and wrong of that struggle. Spite
of all protests, it became a ghastly fact of history; from apparently
impregnable kopjes, and their hillsides that were shambles, the
determined English soldiers drive the unawed burghers over the vast
veldts, fighting literally from rock to rock.
[Illustration: British soldiers visiting the U. S. troop-ship Sumner,
en route to the Philippines.]
It was my opportunity to be with both the Boer and British armies in
South Africa, and to observe the fighting qualities of the men on both
sides. After the Boers evacuated Pretoria, and I remained to witness
the British operations, I came to agree with Captain Slocum that “Tommy
Atkins is a wonder.” He certainly is. During two years spent in
Europe I saw the great manœuvres on Salisbury Plain and at Aldershot;
I have seen the British soldier on foreign garrison service and in the
field; and, last, I have seen him in Africa, confronted by new problems
and fighting against modern weapons in the hands of thinking men.
From the point of view of this experience I venture to draw certain
comparisons and contrasts between him and the American soldier, whose
fighting steps I have followed in half a dozen campaigns, against the
Indians in the West and also in the war with Spain.
The system of “crack” regiments in the British army has done much to
injure the service of that country, as it has developed the “spit
and polish” officer, as he is called in London--an imposing society
soldier, useless in war. The men of these regiments are the pick of the
nation, but unless there is an exceptional campaign they are not sent
out. The Guards are usually ordered to the front long enough to get
their medals, and then are sent home. During the last Soudan campaign
the battalion of Guards was away from England only a few weeks, and
were, as the late war correspondent, G. W. Steevens, said, “packed in
ice, shipped to the front, and then shipped back.” During the Boer War
the Guards have not had such an easy time, as it was necessary to use
the whole army in active operations; and they have proved themselves
good fighters when properly officered.
There is one exception to the rule of pampering the “crack” regiments
in the case of the Gordon Highlanders, for they have seen the hardest
service of every campaign since the organization of the regiment. Their
glory is in fighting rather than in polo and cricket, in campaigning
rather than in dancing.
The sturdy, practical soldiers have a large contempt for the youngster
of birth who has received his commission through favoritism, and they
never lose an opportunity of expressing it. While in Pretoria after
the British occupation, I installed myself in one of the best houses
in the city, having commandeered it when the owner, who was a British
subject, fled. To make my position more secure I hung out a small
American flag, so that I should not be disturbed. When the British
entered the capital, General French’s cavalry division occupied the
portion of the town in which my borrowed home stood, and I invited
two or three of the officers of his staff to share the house with me.
Some days after their acceptance an order was issued by the military
governor to seize all horses in Pretoria, and a battalion of Guards was
detailed to form a line across the city, making a clean sweep of every
horse not already in governmental possession. I rode up to my door
just as the line struck that vicinity, and the soldiers were leading
out some of the horses belonging to the cavalry staff officers living
with me. Lieutenant-Colonel Welsh, a thorough soldier, who has learned
his profession by hard campaigning, was at the moment expostulating
with a stupid officer of the Guards, who was just remarking, “Beastly
business, this horse-stealing, but--aw--I have to do it, don’t you
know?”
“Well, you can’t have my horse,” exclaimed Colonel Welsh, with an
emphasis that told the Guardsman he was some one of importance.
That officer screwed his glass into his eye, looked about, and seeing
the American flag, turned to Colonel Welsh, who was in full uniform,
and said, “Oh, I say--are you the American consul fellow?”
This was too much for the old soldier, who fairly exploded in his
indignation; but his pity for the poor Londoner prompted him to
explain, with an amusing manner, that he had the honor of holding the
Queen’s commission, and that foreign consuls were not in the habit of
wearing the British uniform.
When the Ninth Infantry marched into Santiago to act as a guard of
honor to General Shafter, and to participate in the raising of the flag
over the palace, a Spanish officer standing by me on the cathedral
steps asked if this was one of our “crack” regiments. I told him it was
not, and he looked rather surprised.
“You don’t mean to say you have any more like this, do you?” he
inquired.
[Illustration: British officers at Malta, watching the setting-up
exercises of American soldiers.]
“Why, they are all the same out there in the trenches,” I replied; but
he evidently did not believe me, and then I realized that here was a
regiment of men the like of whom the Spaniards had never seen, its
smallest man taller than their tallest, its horses half a foot taller
than theirs, and I ceased to wonder that he thought it a “crack”
regiment. The army of the United States, when the Spanish War broke
out, was superlative in its personnel. The hard times of a few years
before had led hosts of men of exceptionally high grade to apply for
enlistment, and of these fine applicants not more than one in ten had
been taken; each regiment was a sifted remainder. But in our army it is
the rule that if there is one regiment more “crack” than another, that
is the one to have the honor of the hardest service.
In the use of government funds in the field the British army has a
great advantage over our own force, for their officers are allowed
much more freedom in expenditures for campaigning purposes. It is true
that they use much more money in consequence, but in many cases it is
essential that an army should have that freedom from red tape which is
enjoyed by the British.
In South Africa every officer who has any occasion to use money is
provided with a government check-book; when he wishes to buy stock,
provisions, or forage he appraises the value himself and gives a check
for the amount, or sometimes pays in gold on the spot. The British
army, in consequence, pays the top price for everything; but, as they
wish to conciliate the people as much as possible, it is a very good
policy.
On the contrary, when an American officer wishes to buy anything for
the government, he is obliged to have its value decided upon by a
board, and then the payment is made through the tortuous channels of
the paymaster’s department. Innumerable vouchers, receipts, affidavits,
and money orders pass back and forth before the party who is selling
receives the amount due him.
The right system is a mean between these two extremes; for the English
method is as much too loose as ours is too stringent. The British
government pays for its method every month thousands of pounds more
than necessary. I watched a remount officer buy horses in Pretoria,
and the prices he paid were staggering. The animals had been seized
by the government troops, but payment was made to any one who came to
the public square and laid claim to a horse. The officer in charge
of the work happened to be an exceedingly good-natured and agreeable
fellow, who said the people undoubtedly needed the money. He asked each
person presenting a claim what he thought his animal worth, and almost
invariably paid the full sum demanded, without a word of protest. He
paid as high as £60 for animals not worth a third of that amount. It
can well be imagined that the stock left in any of the towns by the
burghers when they evacuated was not of a very high order, as they
all went away mounted in the best possible style, and in many cases
leading an extra horse. Every man in the Boer army is mounted, and well
mounted, on native stock, that does not need to be fed with grain to
be kept in good condition, as the veldt grass on which these horses
live and thrive is similar to our prairie grass.
The equipment of the British army can in no way compare with that of
the American soldiers; it is heavier, badly slung, and is far less
useful. In the first place, the saddle used by both the cavalry and
mounted infantry is almost double the weight of the McClellan pattern
used by our army. The mounted infantry saddle is the flat seat known
in this country as an “English saddle,” one which should be used only
in the park or in racing. As it has no raised back it affords no rest
to a man while on long rides. The cavalry saddle, especially that
of the Lancers, has a slightly higher back and is somewhat easier;
nevertheless, it is much too flat according to the American idea. The
manner in which the mounted infantrymen ride is enough to show that the
saddle is a very bad one for use in the field, for the rider has no
command over his mount and no security of his seat; he keeps it merely
on the sufferance of a good-natured horse.
The Canadian troops in South Africa created much comment because of
their saddles, for the eastern contingent had the United States army
McClellan saddle, and the western force rode the regular Montana
“cowboy saddle.” About two thousand McClellan saddles had been
condemned by our government inspectors on account of being a fraction
of an inch too narrow across the withers; and the Canadian government,
needing some uniform saddle in a great hurry, bought them. They were
quite satisfactory for the Canadians, for their horses are smaller
than the American animals, and the slight defect in construction made
no difference. Henceforth, the McClellan saddle will be known as the
“Canadian saddle” in England.
The Boers equipped themselves fully in saddles, bridles, blankets, and
all other horse equipment from the stock they captured. There was not a
saddle to be seen that did not come from the English ordnance stores,
although in many cases the rider cut off all the extra flaps and threw
away the heavy bags and pouches, which encumber the horse and are of no
use.
The cavalry equipment of the American army weighs a total of
ninety-eight pounds, including carbine and sabre; while that of the
English service is at least fifty or sixty pounds more. There is one
thing, however, in which their outfit is superior to ours--their
saddles are built of fair leather. A black saddle is much harder to
keep in good condition, and does not continue to look well nearly so
long after it has been cleaned as does the brown leather. Our ordnance
department is experimenting with fair leather equipments, and many have
already been issued. Our cavalrymen hope that soon there will be no
black saddles left in service.
The British infantry equipment is unpractical to an amazing degree; it
is heavy and cumbersome, and includes accouterments that are needless.
There is a heavy set of straps and cross-belts, suggesting the harness
of a dray-horse, and all that this antique framework is useful for
is to hold up the blanket, cartridge-box, and bayonet scabbard. The
cartridge-boxes are as heavy as the cartridges themselves. I had a full
kit such as is used in the American army, which I displayed one day to
an officer of General French’s staff. He remarked:
“Oh, well, we shall have that some day. In about thirty years, when
you have invented something much better, our War Office will adopt
something like this.”
Wide admiration was expressed for my American rubber poncho blanket
with its hole for the head, which adapts it for use as a coat, for the
British have nothing like that. I saw the poor Tommies sleeping out,
night after night, in a cold, pouring rain, with nothing over them but
a woolen blanket. They have no field protection like our shelter tent
to shield them from the weather, and it is surprising that there has
been so little fever.
Our knapsack, also, is greatly superior to the British haversack bag,
which must be carried in the hand when the troops are changing quarters
or are embarking for a voyage. The knapsack is a light trunk, which
will hold everything that a man needs for many weeks.
[Illustration: A company of the Eighth U. S. Infantry in the field,
Lieutenant M. B. Stuart.]
[Illustration: A review of the Life Guards in London.]
It is doubtful if the helmet sees the light of another campaign, for
it has been found to be more objectionable than ever when there is
fighting to be done. The front visor is so long that it prevents the
men from sighting their rifles, and if it is shoved back, the back
visor strikes the shoulders and the helmet falls off. The soldier
cannot keep it on his head when he is sleeping; he might as well go to
war in an opera-hat. The felt field-hat has been adopted by nearly all
the colonials and by some of the volunteers from England; and although
the English have a difficult task to overcome the tradition attached to
anything that has become a part of the service, and although the helmet
gives the men a uniform and very military appearance, its eventual
disappearance is inevitable.
There was a time when we learned much from England regarding military
affairs, but that period has passed, and it would be to her conspicuous
advantage to copy our excellent field equipment, as well as several
other things.
I cannot say that I fully share the sentiment which reproaches the
British government for the continued use of “dum-dum” bullets. At the
Peace Conference at The Hague it will be remembered that the British
representatives maintained the privilege of shooting with these bullets
when the War Office so chose, against the protest of the other powers;
and the Americans in this dispute stood with the British. Terrible as
is their wound as compared with the neat, needle-like thrust of the
Mauser bullet, for instance, in the long run they are the more merciful.
In South Africa both sides used these tearing projectiles to some
extent, although they were not supposed to be issued. I saw some
British prisoners brought into Pretoria who had a lot of “Mark IV”
ammunition, which is the deadliest “dum-dum” made. The steel jacket of
the bullet is split at the sides and at the nose, and when it strikes
a body, these sides of the jacket curl outward with a ghastly result.
It was afterwards stated by the British authorities that this “Mark IV”
ammunition had been issued at Natal by mistake, as the British contest
had always been that these bullets were intended solely for those
savage foes who did not mind perforation with the clean little modern
bullet.
The Boers, on their side, had considerable ammunition known as the
“blue-nose bullet.” This projectile has no jacket at all over its
leaden nose, which spreads out like a mushroom on reaching its target.
The use of this was also the result of a mistake in issuance; it had
been bought by the Transvaal government long before war was thought
of, and was intended for sporting use, since the regular steel-jacket
bullet would not stop big game. But, on the other hand, in many
instances the burghers turned their regular jacket bullets into
“dum-dums” by simply scraping off the steel at the nose, leaving the
lead to flatten as it struck; when they had no file for this, they
rubbed them against a rock.
The humane theory of the small calibre steel bullet is that when it
strikes, unless it hits a vital spot, it does not mangle, but simply
puts a man out of action, and that two more men take him to the rear,
thus putting three out of action. But the theory does not work; for now
that the magazine gun has multiplied every man in the trenches ten or
twenty fold, no erect man of the attacking force can be spared to care
for wounded comrades; consequently the man who falls is left where he
is; no one can pay the slightest attention to him when every minute
is infinitely precious and every stalking man is needed for the final
instant. On the other hand, many of the wounds thus made are so slight
that, if promptly cared for after the battle, the wounded men are able
in a few days to be back with their regiments.
The little bullet darts through the soft part of leg or arm or body
like a sewing-machine needle, and if a vital spot is not struck, and
if no bones are shattered, the flesh closes up with beautiful repair;
and if antisepticized the recovery is surprisingly quick. The prompt
reappearance of these many slightly wounded men on the firing line is
equivalent to a perpetual reënforcement; thus the campaign is prolonged
indefinitely.
The humane sentiment is neutral as to the victory of either side in
wars between civilized armies, and prays only that the slaughter and
destruction may cease as soon as possible. If in the early weeks of the
South African struggle each man hit had been wholly disabled, if not
killed outright, it is inconceivable that the British people would have
permitted the war to go on. If in the Philippines each native struck by
an American bullet had been unable to recover and soon appear in arms
again, that unhappy struggle would have ended long ago. Consequently,
there is much to be considered before making a wholesale condemnation
of the “dum-dum.” War cannot be anything but the most infernal thing
on earth, and the sooner a campaign is over the better. We have to
remind ourselves of the language of one of the generals in the Civil
War to his officers: “Gentlemen, war means fight, and fight means kill;
therefore the more you kill in any battle the sooner the misery of the
war will end.”