American and British Tactics
[Illustration: American Officer at Siboney.]
The Spaniards might have done better if they had not been so impressed
with the unknown in the tactics and strategy of the American invaders.
The Boers erred in having too much contempt for the British methods.
After their series of extraordinary victories over superior forces at
the beginning of the war, it was a common saying in Pretoria, “Fifteen
or twenty of you men come up here; a British regiment is coming.” The
echo of this jeer was at the evacuation, when a burgher said to me, as
he swung himself on his pony, “If we only had even terms, like fifteen
or twenty to one, we could lick them; but when they come forty to one
we can’t do anything.” It is a mortal mistake either to overestimate or
underestimate your enemy.
Tactics and strategy extend into technical military science, and can
be treated in nice detail only by expert students. The following
observations are offered accordingly, not from any technical point
of view, but as the witness of one who on the field has watched the
operations of a number of campaigns, and who has tried to see things
not merely as they seem at the hour, but also as they look afterwards.
Tactics are not to be confounded with strategy. Strategy, speaking
largely, is the planning of the thing which an army has to do; tactics
is the manner in which an army does it. The strategy of a campaign
may be carefully planned by the wise men of the War Department or by
the commanding general. It may be infallible on paper; but if the
tactics of the general officers in the field cannot follow the lines
thus laid down, the strategy is a drag anchor on the success of the
army. On the other hand, the tactics according to which the troops are
disposed, moved, and fought may be so unpractical, so poorly adapted to
the conditions of the country and of the hostile force, that the best
conceived strategy will be made foolish.
In strategy the conditions of the Cuban and African campaigns were so
dissimilar that a comparison is less significant than in tactics. The
American War Department planned an invasion of Cuba near Havana. The
spot actually selected was Mariel, a few miles west of Havana. Here,
under cover of the fleet, a fortified camp, as a base of operations,
was to be established, and Havana was to be invested. Admiral Cervera’s
fleet, however, was first to be destroyed, the equipment of the army
gathering at Tampa was to be completed, and the unhealthy summer season
was to be escaped as far as possible by the delay. There seemed to be
no other objective than Havana, for there were over 100,000 Spanish
troops behind fortifications, the strength of which was never known
until they were evacuated at last without a blow. Had those formidable
works been attempted, the carnage would have been more frightful than
the worst of the South African battles.
But the unexpected happened, and changed the entire strategy of the
campaign. Cervera sailed into Santiago Harbor and refused to come
out. To aid the navy in destroying him an army corps was despatched
to Santiago, and the capture of that stronghold, together with the
annihilation of the Spanish fleet, led Spain to acknowledge defeat.
Thus the first strategic plan, which was both correct and costly, was
abandoned in a sudden exigency for a diversion on a small scale, which
turned out to be decisive. In all this development of strategy there
was nothing histrionic; there was only an obvious common sense which
suggests the method of sound business men going at a problem with
determination and yet deliberation, with economy and yet quickness of
adaptation. The first blow of the war at Manila was dramatic enough,
but it was also plain, business-like strategy, which had been for
silent months in preparation; and the final blow in Porto Rico was
likewise very good business. Upon the whole, a survey of the problem
offered by the conditions of the Spanish war reveals a shrewd and
unerring strategy on the part of the United States. On the other hand,
while we came to respect the Spanish in the highest degree as brave
and dutiful men, we cannot regard the strategy of the Spanish War
Office as anything but puerile. Spain saw the war coming before we did,
and she might have put up a far better fight with no greater loss.
In overcoming the Boers Great Britain had a problem of appalling
magnitude. Her soldiers were to be transported from the ends of the
earth to the Cape, and then to march as far as from New York to
Denver before they could reach the enemy’s capital. Their line of
communication was to be guarded in force at every bridge, trestle,
and causeway for the whole of that immense distance. Cape Colony,
the base of operations, was itself almost a hostile country. Three
besieged British garrisons were to be relieved, and they required three
diverging armies of rescue. The keeping up of the soldiers’ spirits
over such a prodigious march, and the maintenance of the trains that
fed them, constituted a problem such as no other army of this century
has had to face. That the War Office in London did undertake it, and
did actually overcome the natural obstacles which were more formidable
than any fighting force that could meet the British in the field,
showed a mental comprehension and perspicacity, as well as a perfection
of organization, that has properly engaged the admiration of every
strategist in Europe. Whatever blunders of tactics in the field were
thrown up by incompetent officers, there was a big, clear brain behind
it all, that knew the immense business, kept it going, saw beyond the
diverging armies, effected a concentration, captured the capitals of
two states, and accomplished military results that seemed impossible.
The strategy accomplishing all this is of the very first order, and is
a power which the warrior nations of the world must take into account.
In the tactics displayed by the American and British armies there is
naturally a more proper ground for comparison than in the strategy of
the two recent campaigns. Strategy is necessarily the variable quantity
depending on combinations of conditions; but tactics, as the immediate
methods of accomplishing the requirements of strategy, are to be judged
by the invariable gauge of practicalness.
The tactics of the American soldier have been the outcome of
generations of Indian wars and of fighting in woods and mountains. Our
colonial forefathers established the general principles of our present
fighting methods when they learned the art of warfare from the natives
of the wilderness. When Colonel Washington saved General Braddock’s
defeated British regulars from annihilation by the Indians, he
employed, in the main, the same tactics we now use. Washington implored
the British general to dispose his men like the pioneer volunteers, as
individual fighters; but the Royal officer disdained to take lessons
from a colonial. The British stubbornness was in the end fortunate for
the colonies, for the American victories of the War of Independence
were won by the common-sense tactics natural to men who had handled
long rifles from their boyhood, and who had learned to hide first and
shoot afterwards. The slaughter of the retreat from Concord to Boston,
the terrible losses at Bunker Hill, the defeats at Bennington and
Saratoga, were the work of men who sighted their foe with the same
precision that they aimed at wildcats, and took as few chances as
possible themselves.
During that war an attempt was made by Washington to introduce the
Prussian tactics into the continental army. Baron Steuben drilled the
raw frontiersmen according to the rules of the Great Frederick, and
the result was unquestionably advantageous, as the men gained military
form and learned discipline. Had the Boers submitted themselves to
such discipline and obedience to commanders, had they been content to
do more “team work” and less determined to fight as individuals, they
might not have lost their positions. But the American continental,
with all his new-fangled discipline, never forgot that he was out to
kill rather than to drill; he was a hunter, and the pomp of volley
firing never led him to waste powder and ball. He kept his head, and
his finger stayed on the trigger until the sights on the rifle had a
perfect alignment on a red coat.
But while the colonial idea of war has ever been a persistent influence
upon the tactics of the army of the United States, the troops of King
George sailed back to England without an idea that their methods needed
mending. Their success against Napoleon was not due to reformed
tactics, but because in fighting quality, man for man, they were better
than the French, and because they had plenty of allies. Barring the
Crimea, the wars of Great Britain since Waterloo have not been against
white men until they attacked the Boers. Whatever adaptations of method
were made in fighting Asiatic tribesmen, the general tactics of the
army in the field seemed to experience no radical change until the
world was horrified to see General Buller charging up kopjes against
magazine rifles and machine guns in not far from the same formation in
which Howe had led his men to slaughter on Bunker Hill.
There was a vast difference between those South African frontal attacks
at the beginning of the war and the charges up the hill of El Caney
and San Juan in Cuba. The American assault was sanguinary enough, and
the resistance was more desperate than that offered by the Boers. But
had the blue shirts marched up in columns of fours, or swept up in the
old-fashioned line of battle of the Civil War, the carnage would have
turned to annihilation. They scattered, they abandoned all formation,
they crawled, they sprinted from one poor shelter to another; they
knew what the Mauser rifle would do, and they adapted their offensive
tactics to it.
On the other hand, the traditions of Waterloo and Balaklava prevailed
at Spion Kop, Colenso, and along the Tugela and Modder rivers. To “get
in with cold steel” seemed to be the ruling thought among the officers
during the terrible first months of the campaign.
[Illustration: Boer fighting men watching a British flanking movement
during the battle of Pretoria, while building defenses.]
But the lesson was learned, eventually, that the long-range rifle,
with its incessant fire and the Boer precision of aim, required a
complete change in offensive operations. After the disasters to Buller
and Methuen the tactics developed into operations more creditable from
a modern point of view. With the advent of Lord Roberts, flanking
became the feature of the British advance. The Boer forces have never
been of sufficient strength to withstand a flanking movement by the
British; they have always been compelled to withdraw whenever the
flanking columns reached a point that would menace their retreat. When
the British came into Pretoria, the officers and correspondents all
complained of what they called lack of pluck in the Boer as a fighter,
as shown in the operations north of Bloemfontein; but in no instance
at that part of the campaign did they have an opportunity to defend
themselves against purely frontal attack, like those in which General
Buller made himself conspicuous for his fatal old-fashioned tactics.
Lord Roberts’s army was in sufficient strength, so that he could employ
a main force of infantry and artillery of from 30,000 to 40,000, and
could send out flanking columns, of cavalry and mounted infantry with a
few horse batteries, of about 10,000 each.
Thus, when a Boer position was developed, the main advance took an
artillery position at long range and maintained an incessant shell
fire, while the mounted troops were sent out on either flank in an
attempt to cut off the retreat of the burghers. As soon as these
flanking columns reached a certain point from which a junction of the
two forces might be made, the Boers were compelled to withdraw, in
many cases without firing a shot. Sometimes this column of cavalry or
mounted infantry would be fifteen or twenty miles away on their flank;
but owing to their admirable signal service and their perfect scouting
they were able to keep informed as to the enemy’s whereabouts, and
at the last moment, just before a junction was made to cut off their
retreat, they would slip through. Cronje’s capture at Paardeburg was
due to the fact that he misjudged the movements of the troops on his
flank. His officers begged him to retire, but he insisted on holding
the position one day longer. That delay of one day proved to be fatal;
on the next morning he was surrounded by about 40,000 of the enemy,
with overwhelming batteries. After twelve days of the most heroic
defense, when his ammunition was expended, and the action of the heat
on the dead bodies in his laager made it intolerable, he was compelled
to surrender. That was the only time the British succeeded in capturing
any large number by the flanking movement, although they always
succeeded in preventing any serious opposition to their advance.
The country which has been the scene of operations in South Africa
seemed designed by nature for defensive operations. In the Orange Free
State the veldt stretches away for miles and miles, broken by single
kopjes and short ranges of mountains, from which a sentinel can note
the approach of a hostile force in the far distance. In the Transvaal,
although the country is more broken, it is easy to watch the enemy’s
approach; and with the excellent signal service of the Boers it has
been practically impossible for an advancing column to surprise the
defending force.
The drifts or fords of the rivers were the most serious difficulty
that had to be overcome by the British in transportation of their
wagon-trains and artillery. By long action of the water in the rivers
they have been cut deep, so that the descent from the ordinary level
of the country to the bed of the stream is at most places very sharp.
Strangely, there was no attempt, except at the railway bridges, to
improve in any manner these difficult fords, although in many cases an
hour’s work by a company of engineers, or by any kind of a company,
would have saved many hours’ delay in the transportation.
[Illustration: British soldiers pulling army wagons across a drift.]
I stood at one ford for over three hours, watching the passage of a
wagon-train which might have been taken over in a single hour had the
bed of the river been cleared of stones and rocks, as would have been
done by the first American officer to pass that way. The water was
not more than eighteen inches deep, and the obstructing rocks could
easily have been picked up by hand, and a way cleared by a dozen men.
Instead of that, a long wagon-train was taken over, with every wheel
in the train in jeopardy, and with a total wrecking of two wagons. At
some drifts the descent into the river and the ascent of the opposite
bank was so steep that the animals had to be assisted by a company of
men with a long rope attached to the wagon, to ease it down and haul
it out. This was the regular custom at a drift within twelve miles of
Pretoria, where there was every facility for bridging, and where a
company of sappers could have constructed a span in a few hours that
would have stood during the rest of the occupation of the district.
At the foot of San Juan hill, in Cuba, there was a ford of a river
where the bottom was perfectly hard and smooth, and after the barbed
wire entanglements laid by the Spaniards had been removed, it could
have been used without bridging and without any serious loss of time.
But as the river banks were steep the engineers quickly threw a span
across, using the thick bamboo which abounds in the jungle; and this
adequate bridge allowed the men to be sent forward on the advance in
better time and in better condition. Similar tactics could have been
employed at many passages in South Africa that would have greatly
assisted in the operations, but for some reason, and at great cost,
they were neglected.
In the use of the balloon the British showed high proficiency and
effectiveness throughout the entire campaign. The huge silken bag was
attached to a heavy wagon, and was drawn, fully inflated, by a span
of thirty or forty oxen. The successful use of this auxiliary was
facilitated by the open nature of the country. The information obtained
thus was exceedingly valuable to Lord Roberts during his advance
towards Pretoria. Not only, however, is it a material advantage to a
force to possess this direct method of getting information, it also
has a certain moral effect upon the enemy that is in itself powerful.
This is somewhat similar to the effect that a heavy artillery fire
has upon well-intrenched infantry; the shells are not apt to hurt
anybody--indeed, a heavy artillery bombardment of field intrenchments
is usually as harmless as a political pyrotechnic display, except for
the trying effect on the imagination and nerves of the men who are
being fired at. But the Boers were bothered more by the balloon than by
ballooning shells.
[Illustration: Boer artillerists waiting under shell fire for the
British advance.]
One day I was lying in the Boer trenches under an exceedingly heavy
artillery fire, which the burghers did not mind more than a hailstorm.
They were well under cover of the _schanzes_ which they had built along
the ridge of the kopje, and they were calmly awaiting the British
advance, smoking and chatting in nonchalant fashion, without a trace of
nervousness. Suddenly some one spied the balloon as it slowly rose in
front of us, and its apparition created a perceptible consternation for
some moments. This agitation was not fear, for the Boers knew perfectly
well that danger was no more imminent than before; but the thought that
the enemy from whom they were concealing themselves could see them as
perfectly as though the mountain were not there certainly got on their
nerves.
The work of the balloon corps was valuable in that it could discover to
the artillery the position not only of the fighting line, but also of
the reserves and of the horses, and of the line of retreat. The mid-air
observer before Pretoria found and pointed out the range of the railway
line leading towards Middleburg, by which the retreat was being made,
so that the naval guns began to shell the line, hoping to break it
by a lucky shot, or to disable a train. As it happened, however, the
trajectories did not strike the narrow lines of rails, but they did
cause the American Consul, Mr. Hay, some inconvenience, as they filled
his consulate full of holes, though he kept on calmly at his work;
finally a sympathetic neighbor sent over his compliments and suggested
that they have tea together in the lee of his house; everybody else in
that vicinity had fled.
But if the balloon was an important feature of tactics in South Africa,
it cannot be said that the Americans in Cuba made a brilliant success
of it. The balloon before Santiago proved a boomerang, since the
officer in charge was a trifle too enthusiastic and too anxious to keep
his toy on the firing line. The advance towards San Juan hill was made
through a jungle through which only one road led by which the troops
could move forward. Just below the hill along the military crest of
which the Spanish trenches were built, the undergrowth stopped, leaving
an open area several hundred yards wide across which the final charge
was to be made. The regiments moved forward along this narrow road, and
deployed as best they could through the undergrowth. The reserves were
held at a fork of the river, about half a mile back, huddled together
in a very small space. Just in front of the reserves was an open
ground. Thinking only of the balloon’s convenience, but thoughtless
of the danger to the reserves, the signal-service men planted their
apparatus here and began to inflate the mounting bag.
As soon as the balloon was prepared it was ordered into the air, and
instantly it became the target of the Spanish artillerists. It was hit
several times, though without apparent effect; but the shells that
missed it broke into the crowds of the reserves. Shell after shell
found that unseen target, killing and wounding large numbers. Thus
the Spaniards inflicted their greatest injury upon our troops without
knowing they were doing so. Aides were rushed forward to get the
fatal thing somewhere else; but it was already winged and sinking to
the earth. After that melancholy fiasco it was folded away and not
used again. This unfortunate blunder should not, however, be permitted
to discredit the use of the balloon in our army. The notable success
of the British in operating it, and its helpfulness to them, amply
demonstrate its practicality.
[Illustration: The battle of Pretoria, June 4, 1900; Boer guns in
action; British advance along the first range of hills.]
The tactics of Lord Roberts at the capture of Pretoria were badly at
fault. The taking of that city was attended by a glaring military
blunder unexpected from that great leader. It seemed to be the
commander’s only idea to get into the town and to occupy it, rather
than to cut off the enemy’s retreat and capture him. The advance was
made along the road from Johannesburg, the main force being composed
almost entirely of infantry and artillery. The customary flanking
movements were commenced. Hutton’s division of mounted infantry swung
around one flank for a short distance. French’s cavalry division
started around the other flank, but did not get very far before the
fighting ceased. It happened that General Botha had not defended
Pretoria, and the action that lasted during the entire day of June 4th
was merely a rear-guard action, to cover the retirement of the main
force. Consequently, no matter what course Lord Roberts might have
pursued, he could not have captured more than 1,500 prisoners. But the
British commander did not know the state of affairs in Pretoria,
and was led to believe that he would be opposed by the concentrated
commandoes of General Botha and General de la Rey. Had such been the
case his tactics would have allowed the escape of the entire force,
as they did allow the slipping away of the rear guard. Had the field
marshal delayed the attack of the main body for another day, or even
two days, and allowed his mounted troops to get well into the rear, he
could have cut off the retreat of the burghers. Instead, his premature
frontal attack in force compelled them to retire under the cover of
darkness long before their flanks were even threatened.
The miscarriage seemed like another case of British superciliousness
towards their foe, which has repeatedly cost them so dear. After
Bloemfontein the Boers had been kept so on the run that, to some minds,
the employment of costly strategy on the part of the British might seem
needless. They were in such tremendous force compared to the number of
Boers opposing them that they rolled down over the veldt, a flood of
khaki, irresistible in power. If they were opposed at one point of the
advance, they merely kept on marching either side of the threatened
position, until the flanking movement compelled the Boers to withdraw.
The British did not seem to attempt actually surrounding and cutting
off the retreat of the Boers, but were content with merely driving
them back. The inadequacy of this plan was clearly manifest after
Pretoria had been reached, for the force of their enemy was not in the
least broken. On the contrary, the burghers showed conclusively that
they were the strategic masters of the situation. Nothing but their
masterly movements saved them from defeat and capture early in the
war; and after Pretoria, when the London press began to call the Boers
guerrillas, wandering brigands, and outlaws, there was just as clever
strategy shown in the manner in which the Transvaal and Orange Free
State leaders handled their men as though a mighty army had been at
their command.
I asked General Botha why he did not concentrate all the forces in the
field, so that he could make some decided stands. He answered: “We
have talked the matter well over, and have made a definite form of
campaign for the remaining portion of the war. Should we gather all our
fighting men together into one force we could undoubtedly make some
very pretty fights; but there would be only a few of them, for with the
overwhelming force against us they could soon surround any position we
could take, and there would be an end to our cause. As it is, we will
split up into four or five commands, continue operations independently
of each other, but keep absolutely in touch, and confer on the general
plan of campaign at all times. It took your colonial troops seven years
of that sort of work to gain independence against the same country,
and we can do the same thing. We can fight seven years without being
crushed, and should we gain our independence at the end of that time
we would consider the time well spent.”
General Botha pointed to the facts that his troops were in better
condition and had greater resources than Washington’s ever had; that
there was more accord among his burghers than there was among the
American colonial troops; and that, more important still, the entire
population of the country was in absolute sympathy with the cause. This
shows why a campaign can develop into what the British call guerrilla
warfare and still be a part of a splendid strategical plan. In my mind,
the operations in South Africa cannot be called guerrilla warfare
so long as the Boer commands of 3,000 or 4,000 men move on regular
marches, with heavy and light artillery, baggage-trains, and assisted
by signal corps. From these commands small detachments are sent out for
the various duties of blowing up a bridge or a culvert, attacking a
force sufficiently small in number, or capturing a supply train. All of
these operations are done under a system of regular order, and are not,
as the British reports would lead us to believe, the work of mere bands
of robbers or outlaws.
The strategy shown in these movements, and, in the main, the tactics
and their execution, have been of a superlative order, although not
developed from military text-books, but rather from the natural brain
of a lion-hunter. It is to be regretted that more of the movements
have not been chronicled, so that the military world might have been
benefited by a study of these operations.
The facts that at last the British overwhelmed the Boers with their
inexhaustible supplies of troops, and that the general strategy
of the campaign proved successful, do not justify their careless
tactics in the routine of the campaign. If matched against a larger
and more aggressive army than that of the Boers, this characteristic
carelessness might have been very fatal.
Here is a curious instance of this inexplicable heedlessness. The
first important engagement after the occupation of Pretoria was the
battle of Diamond Hill, about sixteen miles north of the capital, and
it was fought by Lieutenant-General French, who commanded the cavalry
division. His command had been very much weakened by drafts upon it
for duty about army headquarters in Pretoria, so that he did not have
more than 3,000 men at his call. This cavalry command, with a few guns,
went out to ascertain the position taken by the retreating burghers.
They found them strongly entrenched on a range of hills commanding the
valley through which the British were to advance. The battle lasted
three days, the fighting going on all that time. General French told
me, on the third night, when we were at dinner, that it had been the
hardest fight he had had during the campaign, and that he doubted
whether he could hold the position until noon the next day, when Lord
Roberts had promised him reënforcements.
General French was surrounded on three sides with what he said was
an overwhelming force of the enemy, _and yet he did not station any
pickets or outposts even on his headquarters camp_. Captain Beech
brought a wagon-train into the center of the camp, through the lines,
without so much as a challenge. The bitter cold of the high veldt
kept me awake that night, and about three o’clock in the morning I
heard horsemen riding through the lines. They took no especial care
to keep their movements secret, so I imagined them to be friends,
but lay waiting for the expected challenge. None came, and the party
of horse rode nearer and nearer until it came quite up to General
French’s headquarters, near a little farmhouse. Dawn was just breaking,
and in the gray light I recognized Captain Beech as he rode up to
headquarters. Captain Beech is an old campaigner in experience if not
in years, and such negligence of the most ordinary and primary needs
of campaigning seemed to him outrageous. He expressed himself with
highly-colored vehemence.
“Why,” he exclaimed, “the Boers could ride in here and take the whole
outfit, for there isn’t an outpost on the camp; and you are the only
one who heard me coming on with a whole wagon-train.”
It staggers an American to comprehend such a situation; and if the
Boers had had a little energy that night they might easily have taken
the whole command. It is an instinct of animals and birds to have
their pickets. When a herd of deer is grazing on the plains, a few
are always left on the outskirts to watch for danger; when a flock of
birds is feeding on the ground, sentries are left in the trees; but the
ordinary British officer does not seem to share that useful instinct.
I asked one of General French’s staff if it was the custom of all
commands to ignore the necessity of placing outposts, and he said:
“Oh, what’s the use? They never attack at night.”
The fact that they do not make night attacks and are not more keenly
alive to such possibilities does not justify the British neglect of
outposts and pickets. I have ridden in and out of Pretoria at all times
of day and night without once being challenged, although it was well
known at headquarters that the residents of the town were communicating
with the Boer commanders every day. A little Afrikander girl of sixteen
told me as a jolly joke that she had ridden out on her bicycle to see
her father, who had a command in the hills within five miles of the
center of Pretoria. She said that she rode part of the way with a
mounted picket, with whom she chatted as they rode along. An order was
issued by the military governor that every one who wished to ride a
bicycle or a horse, or to drive in a carriage, must get a permit to do
so; and the fair young patriot said that after this it was easier than
ever, for she used the permit as a pass, and none of the Tommies ever
knew the difference.
The conclusion of my observations is that in every-day tactics the
British officer still commits the radical error of taking too much
for granted. This is almost a racial error, for it has always been
his besetting sin to despise his foe and to be surprised by clever
tricks. Herein he is thoroughly unlike the American officer, as well as
unlike his own allies from Canada and Australia. The nimble wit of the
newer countries and the expert training of the West Pointer lead both
Americans and colonials to keep thinking what the enemy may be doing
and to take no bravado chances.
After these criticisms of certain features of British tactics it is a
pleasure to recall a piece of work by the Royal Horse Artillery on the
last day of that battle, which would win the respect and admiration
of every American soldier. Diamond Hill is a very high kopje, rising
directly out of a plain, and from the beginning of the rise it is fully
half a mile to the summit, the latter part of the ascent being very
steep. The sides of the kopje are covered with huge rocks, some of them
ten feet high, and standing in every conceivable position, just as they
rested at the time of a great upheaval that broke the earth’s strata.
It was almost impossible to walk over the rocks, they were so rough and
jagged, yet the officers and men of this battery brought their guns
to the very top of the kopje and commanded the entire valley. It was
a magnificent thing to do, and almost incredible; I never before saw
soldiers bring to pass such an apparently impossible attempt. But it
evidently was not an unusual achievement in that campaign of titanic
labors, for it occasioned no comment.
[Illustration: 1. 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 could be seen than is shown above.
2. A difficult kopje; two hundred men are hiding behind the rocks.]
Perhaps no better illustration can be given of the new military
conditions which modern strategy and tactics have to meet than a
picture that shows how an actual battlefield looks. During the third
day the fighting had been very severe, and in one place in the line
the British had been compelled to charge a position several times in
order to prevent being completely surrounded. There were eight Maxim
one-pounder machine guns, several Colts’ machine guns, and a large
number of heavy guns in action during the entire day, and at one
time they were all concentrated at one point. I took a photograph,
which shows better than anything else how modern warfare has lost all
picturesque features. This picture shows nothing but a placid landscape
that might have been taken on any farm, instead of which thousands of
men were fighting desperately. At the time the photograph was taken
there was a charge going on, but the khaki clothing makes the men
invisible to the camera. Bullets were singing across the plain like
sheets of rain, and shells were screeching overhead; along the ridge
there was a constant crackling of small arms; but the landscape itself
was as quiet as that of a New England farm.