THE FIGHT OF THE INDEPENDENT CAVALRY
I.--GERMAN VIEWS.
FROM his general remarks on the action of Cavalry, mounted or
dismounted, against the various Arms, mounted or dismounted, the
author passes to "IV.--The Fight of the Independent Cavalry" (p.
141), and the reader almost at once finds himself straying in a fog
caused by the author's refusal to face straightforwardly the simple
dominant fact that "Cavalry" are also riflemen. What does "Independent"
mean? One would naturally assume it to mean what it means in our own
Cavalry's phraseology, the "strategical" Cavalry which operates on a
self-supporting independent basis, as distinguished from the divisional
Cavalry, which is attached to, and dependent on, the various Infantry
divisions. And this is the signification which the author gives to
it in the opening words of the chapter. "Such fights," he says,
"will occur during the offensive reconnaissance of the Cavalry, in
screening, and in enterprises against the enemy's communication and
lines of approach" (that is, in raids), functions which are classified
in the same order in the early part of the book as the normal functions
of the Independent Cavalry, operating, in the first instance at any
rate, against a hostile Independent Cavalry of the same stamp and
vested with corresponding functions. We expect, accordingly, to hear
a great deal about the "purely Cavalry fight," or shock-combat; but,
to our bewilderment, after less than a page of exceedingly obscure
reference to the "exceptional cases," where, owing to the absence
of "other arms," such combats occur, the author proceeds to examine
what he evidently regards as the normal case, "when the co-operation
of other arms can seriously be counted on," and the whole of the
forty-eight pages which follow implicitly assume that other Arms,
whether in the shape of Artillery, Infantry, cyclists, or what he
vaguely calls "partisans," are present. Artillery alone are enough, he
says, to scatter to the winds "purely Cavalry tactical principles,"
and "to set the stamp of fire upon the development of the fight" (p.
144). The unfortunate Cavalry subaltern must feel the ground sinking
under his feet. The book he is studying, "Cavalry in War and Peace,"
is a treatise for Cavalry on purely Cavalry tactical principles,
and yet these principles cease to exist if even Artillery are on the
scene, as in most normal cases it is assumed to be on the scene. Both
in Germany and in England Horse Artillery is a recognized and integral
part of the Independent Cavalry force whose functions the author is
now considering. What is more, rifles are an invariable factor in the
same force, German or English, or, indeed, in any force of Cavalry
of whatever size, and however engaged, because they are carried by
the Cavalry troopers themselves. And rifles, as the author will soon
explain, make still worse havoc of purely Cavalry tactical principles.
In other words, there _are_ no such principles.
We may cut the matter short by merely advising the reader to solve his
perplexities in the succeeding chapters by substituting for the word
"Cavalry," whenever it occurs, the words "mounted riflemen," which,
steel weapons apart, are what Cavalry are. There he will have a key
to most of the contradictions and ambiguities, and can form his own
opinion on the lucidity and force of the injunctions laid down. The
truth is that the General, in speaking of "other arms," really means
not only other Arms of the service (_i.e._, Infantry and Artillery),
but other _weapons_, as distinguished from lances and swords, carried
by Cavalry themselves--that is, _rifles_.
Armed with this clue, let us begin.
We must classify, says the author, with his critical eye on the
Regulations, "for if we take all the various principles evolved from
different tactical situations, and jumble them illogically together,
or discuss them from points of view which are not closely based on
the probable happenings of reality, we run a danger of confusing the
judgment instead of clearing it." He proceeds himself to involve our
judgments in irremediable confusion.
First of all, fights, according to the old phrase, are either
offensive or defensive. Offensive fights are of two sorts: "battles of
encounter," where the "enemy is also pressing forward," and "attacks
against localities or positions." Defensive fights are of only one
main character: they require the defence of localities, positions,
and defiles. Then, in quite a separate category, comes a third class
of fights--namely, "surprises, which merit separate consideration"--a
consideration, it may be noted, that they never get. The author forgets
all about them. It matters little. His classification as it stands is
as far removed from the "happenings of reality" as any classification
could be; and to divorce surprise, generally supposed to be the soul
of all mounted action (because horses mean high mobility) from "battles
of encounter," "attacks on localities," and other sorts of fights, is
only to supply the crowning element of unreality. It must be remembered
that his most comprehensive classification (of which the above is
a subdivision) distinguishes between "the fight of the Independent
Cavalry" and the "action of Cavalry in battle," by which latter phrase
he means the great battle of all Arms; and that battle, he has said, is
"always of a pre-arranged nature"--that is, lacking in opportunities
for surprise. One would have imagined, therefore, that if he wanted an
antithesis between surprise and something else, he would oppose the
pre-arranged battle to the fight of the Independent Cavalry. Not so.
"Surprises" are left out in the cold and eventually forgotten.
And what of these other sorts of fights defined under their various
heads? Perhaps I had better take them in detail, rather than attempt a
general diagnosis.
What is the battle of encounter? I have collected all the allusions
I can find to this battle, in the hope of supplying an intelligible
definition, but have to admit failure. On page 102 it is distinguished
from an "arranged affair," a distinction which in peace suggests
those carefully-planned "knightly combats" on level pieces of ground,
but which in war does not carry us very far. On page 147, however,
the special case of a battle of encounter where "an opponent is
unexpectedly met with," receives separate consideration. On page 142 it
seems to denote the case "where the enemy is also pressing forward,"
again a somewhat nebulous description, for it is the common way of
enemies to press forward. On page 143 one thinks for a moment that it
is to be confined to "lesser bodies of Cavalry, unaccompanied by other
arms"; but one speedily finds allusion to "larger bodies of Cavalry,
accompanied by a proportion of other arms," and the co-operation of
other arms becomes the predominant feature of the whole discussion. Yet
on page 194, in discussing the action of the army Cavalry on the flank
of a great battle, the author speaks of a battle of encounter between
the rival Cavalry masses, as though this type of fight were confined
to Cavalry. Again, on page 154 it is held to include the passage
of defiles, though the defence of defiles, a function which is the
necessary counterpart of the passage of defiles, is, as we have seen,
regarded as belonging to a separate type of combat.
We have noted also the distinction between the battles of encounter
and "attacks of localities," and between these latter and the defence
of localities (as though there were any antithesis between an encounter
on the one hand and an attack or defence on the other!). But what
is a "locality," an attack on which is distinguished from a battle
of encounter? Here is a fresh mystery. A "locality," on page 174,
is distinguished from a "prepared position," which Cavalry, he says
here, are never to attack or defend,[4] and it appears, in fact, to be
simply a place on which troops are (a "place within the meaning of the
Act," we cannot help exclaiming). In the first words of the section on
"Attack of Localities" this attack is explained as one upon "an enemy
who takes up a defensive attitude."
If, therefore, in a battle of encounter, when both sides are "pressing
forward," one side or the other halts temporarily (without preparing
or entrenching a position), the other side is in the position of
attacking a locality; and if the former party repulses the attack
and resumes its advance, then the position is reversed. Or if there
is a temporary equilibrium in the fight, when neither party can make
headway, then both are attacking and both are defending localities. But
some such phenomena as these are common to all combats. Where, then, is
the battle of encounter?
This is no idle question, and these are no hair-splitting criticisms,
because the rules are held to differ in important respects in these
various types of combats. In the battle of encounter there are some
exceedingly dim indications of an opening for the steel, but an attack
upon a "locality" "_can obviously only be carried out dismounted_" (p.
165). Pass by the old fallacious antagonism between mounted action and
rifle action, and regard the essence of this proposition. Once again
you have the refutation of the steel theory. The sentence means "fire
governs combat." He who fires compels his enemy to accept combat on
terms of fire.
But "Where am I?" the harassed student may exclaim. "What of these
steel-charges against extended Infantry (and, by inference, against
dismounted Cavalry), whose fire enforced extension in the attacking
Cavalry?" Well, let him read on. There is hope yet. For immediately
after saying that an attack upon an enemy who takes up a defensive
attitude can obviously only be carried out dismounted, he adds
the sinister words: "It must be a matter, therefore, for serious
consideration, whether such an operation shall be undertaken or not."
The truth is that he has suddenly remembered those tiresome led horses.
"There must be considerable numerical superiority to insure success."
There must be a dismounted reserve for fire purposes, and a mounted
reserve to secure the safety of the led horses, and "for reconnaissance
and for operating against the enemy's flank and rear"; and then follows
an acrimonious wrangle with the Regulations on the question of making
one reserve, and that mounted, perform incompatible and contradictory
functions. But, as usual, our sympathies are with the Regulations.
"Should the Cavalry commander not have at his disposal sufficient
force to meet all these demands," says the General, "he will be
generally better advised to abstain from the attack and to carry out
his mission in some other manner...." "It is only when conscious of
great moral and tactical superiority, or when there is any prospect
of surprising the enemy, that an attack should be dared without the
necessary numerical preponderance" (p. 166). In other words, after
his _reductio ad absurdum_ of the steel, the writer in the next breath
proceeds to an equally conclusive _reductio ad absurdum_ of the
rifle. Any Cavalry leader who acted on the General's principles would
be instantly sent home in disgrace. According to these principles,
numerically equal bodies of Cavalry cannot fight one another at all
unless in those "exceptional cases" where the ground is favourable for
the "purely Cavalry fight," when there are no other Arms to complicate
the situation, and where neither side even for a moment "takes up a
defensive attitude" for any purpose whatever. If any one of these
conditions is unsatisfied, the numerically equal forces are mutually
paralyzed, and each must seek to "carry out its mission in some other
manner." But, alas! by hypothesis there is no other manner. "The
attack obviously can only be made dismounted." Presumably, then, these
Cavalries are to do nothing at all in modern war.
I am not making an unfair use of isolated passages. In later portions
of his work the General frequently repeats his warnings against
fire-action without great numerical and moral superiority, though
not, perhaps, so frequently and emphatically as he inveighs against
impracticable shock-action. Under "VIII.--The Various Units in the
Fight" (p. 239), we learn that a "squadron is generally too weak to
carry out an offensive fight on foot." By the time you have abstracted
horse-holders, "mounted and dismounted reserves," and "patrols and
sentries," there is nothing left with which to fight. Similarly,
a squadron must never "undertake a defensive fight on foot unless
absolutely necessary, or when the led horses can be disposed in a safe
place in the neighbourhood, where the flanks cannot be turned, or
where the arrival of reinforcements can be relied on." Observe that
there is no limitation here as to the strength of the enemy, no demand
for numerical or moral superiority. The rule is almost absolute. A
squadron can only charge on horseback. So that in average enclosed
country, where charges cannot be arranged, two opposed squadrons must
maintain a masterly inactivity. We think of the 74 isolated "Zarps" at
Bergendal in their desperate defence against enormous odds, and of the
150 Griqualanders who defied a division of Cavalry for a whole day at
Dronfield.
But the General is far from stopping with the squadron. "The _regiment_
will seldom be called upon to fight independently, but will operate
in more or less close co-operation with other troops." It can act
dismounted, but only "against weaker hostile detachments." In defence,
however, it is "formidable," because--strange reason--it can detach
two whole squadrons to guard the led horses! Well, it is no wonder that
the author neglects and discourages the study of modern war. Supposing
De Wet, for example, had acted on his principles! His brilliant
intervention at Paardeberg was made with 350 men. Or go to Manchuria.
Naganuma's masterly raid of January to February, 1905, when he rode
round the Russian army and blew up the great bridge of Hsin-kai-ho,
was made with 172 Cavalrymen, who acted throughout solely by fire, and
would have been impotent without it. The author professes to admire
the exploits of the Americans in 1861-1865. What does he suppose their
Cavalry leaders would have thought of his theories?
The brigade of two regiments, we learn next, is almost as feeble a
unit as a regiment. "It cannot," he says vaguely, "engage an opponent
of any strength who may have to be dealt with by mounted or dismounted
action, or the two in combination." "In view of its small offensive
power, it will run a great risk of suffering defeat, _especially when
dismounted_." In defence, "if the led horses do not require too large
an escort," etc., it "may be an important factor of strength."
The division of six regiments (of 400 men per regiment) is a
somewhat more useful unit. "If its full strength can be employed in
the charge," it "represents, even against troops using the rifle"
(what troops? of what strength?), "a considerable fighting power."
Nevertheless, it can attack "only weak detachments with a prospect of
success." "The resistance of a body of equal strength" (a body of what?
how composed?) "when circumstances demand a dismounted attack can never
be overcome." Mounted, however, and "charging in close formation," it
can attack even a stronger enemy (what sort of enemy?), "regardless of
consequences."
Finally, a corps of two divisions "can aim at decisive results," and,
alone of all units, can engage in "independent strategic missions,"
which we may suppose, without further explanation, to mean raids. But
in these "fire-power is an important factor," and it is hinted that
even the corps will not have enough fire-power.
The General complains that his writings "fall on barren soil." Well
they may. Antiquated as the methods of the German Cavalry are, they
at any rate intend to fight. A Cavalry educated on the maxims of the
author might as well be left at home.
And this is the author that Sir John French, who knows what our own
mounted riflemen did in South Africa, holds up as a model to our
Cavalry. He has not one word of criticism, not a single reservation,
to make on any of the passages I have quoted. On the contrary, he
tells our men, in general terms, that it is all true, and implies that
the greatest of his compatriot soldiers, Lord Roberts, makes "appeals
from vanity to ignorance." A perusal of this chapter, and of Sir John
French's effusive eulogy, ought to make every British soldier, home or
colonial, indignant.
Its conclusion (pp. 245-246) is not the least remarkable part of it.
"It will seldom be possible," says the General, conscious, seemingly,
that his counsels have not been vividly luminous, "and generally
unnecessary to undertake or carry out the very best course of action,
for we may certainly count on numerous errors and vacillations on the
part of the enemy, _especially in the case of Cavalry warfare_." Well,
we may heartily endorse the words I have italicized.
Then, as a last desperate resort, come high-sounding generalities. "The
indomitable will to conquer carries with it a considerable guarantee of
success ... and the offensive is the weapon with which he [the Cavalry
leader] can best enforce his will." Offensive!
The reader may infer from the passages I have quoted that it is not
necessary to examine in close detail the General's instructions
for the "battle of encounter" and the "attack of localities." He
will trip at every ambiguous sentence, baffled by contradictions or
qualifications somewhere else, and perpetually befogged either by
the vague word "enemy" or the implied distinction between "Cavalry"
and "other arms"--a distinction which is generally irrelevant, since
all Arms are linked together by that great common denominator, the
firearm. I have already noted how the presence of artillery dissipates
"purely Cavalry tactical principles." Modern artillery fire, he says,
necessitates deployment at 6,500 yards from the enemy at least. That
is nearly four miles away, and the questions at once arise, Who
are these invisible troops with Artillery? What is their strength
and composition? Have they some of those troublesome cyclists and
Infantry, or some of those unorthodox Mounted Infantry or Cavalry
acting improperly as Mounted Infantry, who will make an additional
complication in a situation already compromised by Artillery?
The German Regulations are superbly indifferent to these questions,
and accordingly come in for fresh condemnation. Cavalry are supposed
to know at four miles what the composition, strength, and intentions
of the enemy are, and if the enemy is Cavalry (the cyclists and
Infantry prescribed by the Regulations themselves are ignored),
the echelon system (previously outlined) is to provide for all
contingencies. The author pitilessly dissects this childlike scheme.
"In peace manoeuvres," he remarks caustically, "there is always a
tacit understanding that the enemy is no stronger than one's own
force." In war it is otherwise. To clear up the situation "energetic
contact with the enemy by fire-action is necessary." "Only by a
protracted action can the enemy be forced to disclose his strength
and intentions," and "a protracted fight can only be carried out by
fire-action." Perfectly sound, we agree; and then we remember, with a
start, those terrible led horses, and the doctrines founded on them.
"It is only when conscious of a great moral and tactical superiority,
or when there is any prospect of surprising the enemy, that an attack
should be dared without the necessary numerical preponderance." In
other words, the author once more categorically contradicts himself.
After first saying that fire-action--and "protracted," "energetic"
fire-action--is the only means of forcing the enemy to disclose his
strength and intentions, he adds in the next breath that such action is
on no account to be undertaken unless the enemy's strength is already
known, and he is known to be greatly inferior, either numerically, or
tactically and morally! Is it any matter of surprise that the Germans
are slow to listen to General von Bernhardi?
The same deadly instinct for self-refutation dogs the General through
his satire on the regulation method of "passing a defile" (p. 154). In
peace "one side is kept as far from the defile as possible, in order
that the passage on the other side may be possible," and that both
may have the luxury of a knightly combat. These practices the General
prophesies will lead to "enormous losses in war," and he pleads for
a modicum of commonplace fire-action. "Whether," he gravely remarks,
"the attack be undertaken mounted or dismounted will depend upon the
attitude of the enemy and the attendant circumstances." Yes, but we
know from other sources what that means--namely, that if the enemy
shows a "defensive attitude," the attack will be by fire; but that
there will be no attack at all, even so, unless he is greatly inferior,
either morally and tactically or numerically.
Later we have a condemnation of Regulation No. 519, which directs the
Army Cavalry, not only to drive the hostile Cavalry from the field, but
to press back or break through "detachments of all arms." "I cannot
conceive," says the General, "any real case in which Cavalry can break
through hostile detachments of all arms." Poor Cavalry! If mounted
riflemen laboured under such a disability, there would have been no
South African War at all--literally none.
Then Regulation No. 403 falls a victim. It is certainly an easy prey.
"Personal observation [_i.e._, by the commander] is always the best,
and is _essential in the case of offensive action against Cavalry_."
The Regulations, of course, assume that both Cavalries disdain to
use their rifles, and whirl about in huge ordered masses up to the
moment of contact; but the author plaintively argues that fire rules
the situation, and makes the zone of combat such that it is utterly
impossible for one individual to have ocular perception of all that is
going on. "One brigade will often fight on foot, the other mounted,"
he complains, "so that a handling of a division according to rule is
practically impossible." True comment, but how futile!
Then, conscious (as he so often is conscious) that his counsels may
have a damping effect on his hearers, he ends in a burst of poetry.
"The enemy's fire must not paralyze the idea of offensive action"
(he means shock, though he does not like to say so). "We must act
'regardless of consequences,' 'wrest victory,'" etc., according to
the hackneyed Cavalry phraseology, upon which modern war throws such a
pitilessly searching light.
The next section, "Attack of Localities," needs little further comment.
This attack must be done exclusively by fire, but in practice it can
never be done. That is the only deduction we can arrive at. But there
is one highly important point. At the end of the section the bewildered
reader finds himself involved in a lengthy discussion on the sword and
lance in mounted combat--a discussion from which I have already quoted,
and which arises out of a radically false analogy between those steel
weapons and the bayonet carried by the foot-soldier. If Cavalry have
to do the same work as Infantry, should not they carry bayonets? That
is how the debate arises. It is an interesting debate, on which anyone
must frankly admit there may be legitimate difference of opinion. Even
for Infantry the bayonet is somewhat under a cloud, as the General
himself contends; and Mounted Infantry, or Cavalry acting as such,
have powers of surprise and envelopment derived from the horse which
may perhaps be held to compensate them for the doubtful advantage of
a bayonet. Instead of reasoning thus, the General treats the bayonet
only as a possible _substitute_ for the sword, and rejects it on that
ground. But what has the sword to do with the bayonet? The sword is
meant for use on horseback; the bayonet is fixed to the rifle, and is
used on foot as a factor in fire-tactics. The essence of the whole
controversy we are engaged upon is whether it is any longer possible in
modern war to fight on _horseback_, and whether the rifle should not be
the weapon _par excellence_ of mounted troops. Whether you reinforce it
with the bayonet or not is a distinct question, which has no relation
whatever to the value of the sword and lance. It seems absolutely
hopeless to get this distinction grasped. Over and over again in the
letters and articles on this controversy the same old fallacy recurs,
and, as I shall show later, it influences the German General more
deeply than he realizes.
The section on "Defence" (p. 176) is short, and mainly consists of the
elaborated truism that all defence should have an offensive character.
The General seems to think that this maxim applies especially to
Cavalry. It is the old delusion that Cavalry is a more offensive Arm
than Infantry, and it leads him inexorably to the fatal conclusion that
Cavalry cannot be trusted to undertake a "completely passive defence."
They will only attempt to do so--but observe the comprehensive breadth
of the exceptions--when it is a case of "holding a crossing over
some obstacle, defending an isolated locality, or gaining time." In
these cases a retirement may be involved "which is difficult to carry
out on account of the led horses, and _should only be attempted in
very favourable country_. It demands that the fight shall be broken
off--always a difficult matter, and, to Cavalry _encumbered_ by these
led horses, one of considerable danger." "Remounting when pressed by
the enemy is always a critical matter." It makes one hot to hear this
sort of thing commended to British soldiers by Sir John French. It
spells disgrace in war. Troops who cannot break off a fight cannot
fight at all. "Colonel X., be good enough to cover my retreat with
your regiment. Defend that crossing, please, or that locality, and
gain me time." "Very sorry, sir, but the ground is unfavourable, and
my led horses encumber me." Supposing our gallant Colonials had said
that at Sannah's Post? They found, indeed, how "critical a matter" it
is to remount when pressed by the enemy, for the Boers charged right
into them again and again; but they did not flinch, and they saved
their column from ruin, while the Cavalry engaged, equally brave men,
but ignorant of their true rôle in war, failed in the task set them.
But all this is "abnormal," Sir John French would say. A respectable
hostile Cavalry would have summoned us to knightly combats with the
steel.
And then (on p. 184) we come, as usual, to the corresponding _reductio
ad absurdum_. "In mounted combat [_i.e._, with the steel] the breaking
off of the fight is quite impossible. Troops once engaged must carry
the fight through. Even when retreating from the mêlée fighting Cavalry
has no means of extricating itself. It is then entirely dependent on
the enemy, and can only retire at the most rapid speed," etc. "Whoever
expects to rally a beaten Cavalry division after a mounted fight by
blowing the divisional call lays himself open to bitter disappointment."
No wonder so much stress is laid on the offensive character of Cavalry!
II.--THE BRITISH VIEW.
We have now completed our review of the author's theories on the
action of the Independent Cavalry, and I must ask the reader for a
moment to compare with his views the instruction on the same topics
contained in our own Manual, "Cavalry Training." The same fundamental
error vitiates the whole of this instruction, but in an infinitely
more mischievous form. The German author makes both shock and fire
equally absurd, but his respect for shock never deters him from
telling in his own strange way home-truths about fire which at least
force the reader to construct for himself cosmos out of chaos. Our
authorities, conscious that the intermingling of shock and fire will
create difficulties only too apparent to Englishmen with any knowledge
or memory of South Africa, divorce them completely from one another. In
their Manual, Cavalry _acting against Cavalry_, whatever the terrain
or other circumstances, are assumed never to employ fire-action, whose
results are described as "negative," but only to employ shock. If the
reader will turn to pages 196-212, which deal with the Independent
or strategical Cavalry, he will observe with what really remarkable
ingenuity the compilers manage to avoid even the remotest recognition
of the fact that Cavalrymen carry rifles. The word "fire" is not
breathed, though to the intelligence even of the most ignorant layman
it must be plain that fire must dominate and condition the functions
described, especially those beginning with the "approach march when
within striking distance of the hostile Cavalry" (p. 202).
The various problems bravely but confusedly tackled by General von
Bernhardi are here quietly ignored. Everything is so arranged as to
lead up without hitch to the physical collision on horseback of the two
opposing Cavalry "masses." There is no echo of von Bernhardi's rule
about early deployment in view of Artillery fire. Our own Artillery, it
is true, is to "throw into confusion" the enemy's Cavalry--a compliment
which no doubt the enemy may return (p. 208). But, confusion or no
confusion, the climax is to be the purest of pure Cavalry fights.
Scouts and patrols are to observe the enemy and to prevent our own
commander from "engaging his brigades on unfavourable ground" (note
that pregnant warning); but there is no suspicion or suggestion of von
Bernhardi's "protracted fire-fight" in order to discover the strength
and intentions of the enemy, especially in view of the possibility that
the enemy may, with unsportsmanlike perversity, choose ground which is
"unfavourable to our brigades." Our Cavalry Commander (p. 205), it is
to be inferred, is to perform the physical impossibility enjoined by
the German Regulations, and criticized by von Bernhardi (pp. 160-162),
of personally overlooking the whole of the attack and the ground which
it is to cover. Needless to say, there is not a whisper about those
sinister prophecies of the German author that "one brigade will often
fight on foot, the other mounted"; that it will be impossible "to put
a division into the fight (_i.e._, shock-fight) in proper cohesion";
that, in view of fire, "the situation during the rapidly changing
phases of the Cavalry fight will often be quite different from what was
expected when the tasks were allotted"; and that, fire apart, European
topography is such that opportunities for the "collisions" of Cavalry
masses will be very rare.
With our authorities all goes by clockwork on Frederician and
Napoleonic lines. "The enemy should be surprised," so that the
charge may follow immediately after the deployment. The attack is
to be on the echelon system ridiculed by von Bernhardi, but the
encounter, nevertheless, is not to be "broken up," but is to be by the
"simultaneous action of all brigades." The artless enemy co-operates,
allows himself to be surprised upon the right piece of "favourable"
ground, and courteously presents an objective which may be struck
simultaneously. The Artillery of both sides ceases fire, fascinated by
the sublime spectacle of the "collision"; the machine-guns, which have
been "affording a means of developing fire _without dismounting_," also
retire from business, and the knightly combat rages on its appointed
level arena. Then comes the pursuit (p. 211). Troops are either to
"pursue at top speed in disorder," or to "rally at once at the halt";
and on page 128 elaborate directions will be found for the practice of
this "rally," which von Bernhardi says is an "absolute impossibility
in war," and that it is "indeed astounding that we should give way to
such self-deception." Is the rally, we wonder, one of the "best foreign
customs" which Sir John French urges us to assimilate, or one of the
worst, which he has accidentally overlooked?
It is only when our authorities have finished with the pursuit,
which is to "completely exhaust and disorganize the beaten enemy,"
and when, the hostile Cavalrymen vanquished, our own Cavalry has
been safely launched on its reconnoitring duties (p. 212), that they
consider, under quite a distinct heading, and without a hint that it
may have anything to do with what precedes, the dismounted action
of Cavalry against what is described with judicious vagueness as an
"enemy" (pp. 213-216). Then we have the same demoralizing injunction
that von Bernhardi, in his fire-mood, so strongly combats--namely,
that a "fire-fight is not to be protracted"; and the same equally
vicious suggestion that von Bernhardi, in his steel-mood, acquiesces
in--namely, that defence in any shape is a somewhat abnormal function
of Cavalry; that they are not supposed to conduct stubborn defences
("tenacious" is Sir John French's own term); and that they should
never demean themselves by constructing anything serious in the way
of entrenchment (p. 215). But it is scarcely necessary to add that
the led horses are not the nightmare to our authorities that they are
to von Bernhardi, and that we do not yet stultify our own directions
for fire-action by warnings about the minimum size of units, and the
imperative need for moral, numerical, and tactical superiority. Yet
these warnings are regarded, according to his own account, as inspired
wisdom by Sir John French, whose own introductory remarks are conceived
in an even more reactionary spirit than those of the "acknowledged
authority" whom he recommends to British readers.
The finishing touches to the comedy of the shock-duel are given in
the revised Mounted Infantry Manual of 1909; for, although in this
connection the Cavalry Manual never breathes a word about its sister
Arm, it is, as I have before mentioned, one of the regular duties
of the Mounted Infantry to co-operate with the Cavalry, not only
in reconnaissance, but in battle. Under the heading "Co-operation
with Cavalry when Acting Offensively against Hostile Cavalry," the
Mounted Infantry are to "seize points of tactical importance from
which effective rifle and machine-gun fire can be brought to bear on
the flanks of the opposing Cavalry before the moment of contact." We
picture an amphitheatre, like Olympia, both rims of the horseshoe lined
with hidden riflemen, and two solid blocks of Cavalry galloping towards
one another in the arena below, and we are alarmed for the fate of
the horsemen, exposed in such a formation to a sleet of bullets. But
we come to a fortunate reservation. "Fire will rarely be opened upon
the hostile Cavalry or Artillery until contact is imminent. The object
aimed at is the defeat of the hostile Cavalry, and a premature opening
of fire is liable to cause it to draw off and manoeuvre, in order
to bring off the Cavalry encounter outside effective rifle-range."
Surely some humorist of the Mounted Infantry, coerced by the General
Staff into finding a rôle for his Arm which should not trench upon the
sacred preserves of the Cavalry, penned these exquisite lines by way
of stealthy revenge! What delicate consideration for the "knightly"
weapons! What an eye for theatrical effect! What precautions against
the disturbance of the collision by the premature discharge of vulgar
firearms! And what a tactful show of apprehension lest these reminders
of the degenerate twentieth century should scare away the old-world
pageant to regions beyond "effective rifle-range"! It will be noticed
that even the Artillery of the enemy is to be immune until "contact is
imminent"--a somewhat doubtful risk to take without a written guarantee
from the enemy that his Artillery will reciprocate the courtesy. (For
the Gunners' view, see below, p. 204.)
Finally, with what unerring neatness, under his veil of genial irony,
does our humorist manage to expose and satirize the futility of the
lance and sword and the deadly pre-eminence of the rifle! He recognizes
that it is only by the indulgence and self-restraint of riflemen that
swords and lances can be used, and he knows, as we all know, that it
is physically impossible for modern Cavalry, in war or peace, to find
any spot on the globe which is "outside effective rifle-range"--unless
they take the unsoldierly course of throwing away their own rifles. In
peace, of course, as von Bernhardi constantly reminds us, rifles may
be, and frequently are, ignored, even if they are not left in barracks;
but in "real war" there is no use for troops who can only fight
outside effective rifle-range. I need only add that the ideal Cavalry
combat, as envisaged by our authorities, is precisely the combat
which von Bernhardi stigmatizes in peace manoeuvres as a "spectacular
battle-piece." Mounted Infantry to him represent a force which, by
"seizing the rifle," will "compel" the opposing Cavalry to "advance
dismounted." The case imagined is what he regards as the normal case of
"co-operation with other arms," and it will be remembered that "he can
conceive no case in which Cavalry [_i.e._, using the steel] can break
through a hostile detachment of all arms."
One stands in awe before the almost miraculous tenacity of a belief
which can give birth to such puerilities as I have quoted from our
Manuals without perishing instantly under the ridicule of persons
conversant with war. If the thing described had ever once happened, it
would be different, but it never has happened, and never can or will
happen. In war no Commander-in-Chief would tolerate even a tendency
towards such child's-play. Otherwise, in pessimistic moments, one
might tremble for the Navy. Supposing our Dreadnoughts were trained to
withhold their fire so as to decoy hostile wooden three-deckers into
collisions with our wooden three-deckers, and encounters settled by
cutlasses on the lines of Salamis and Syracuse?
The parallel is not discourteous to the Cavalry. When they will it,
they can be Dreadnoughts. But their shock-charge is as obsolete as
sails and wood in naval war.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 4: "With them [the Cavalry] it will never be a case of
prepared positions--which Cavalry as a rule will neither attack nor
defend--but of actions resulting from a battle of encounter."
This is directly contradicted on p. 342, where it is laid down that
"attacks on an enemy in position," as explicitly distinguished from
"battles of encounter," are said to be "very necessary in time of war,"
and should be "repeatedly practised" in peace. The same injunction is
repeated on pp. 343 and 345.
This is a typical example of the textual self-contradictions in which
the book abounds.]