THE BATTLE OF ALL ARMS
I.--GERMAN VIEWS.
WE have now come to the exposition of the part Cavalry will play in
the great battle of all Arms, which, says von Bernhardi, is always
"pre-arranged." But it will occur to the reader at once that, so far as
our inquiry about fire and the steel in combat is concerned, there can
be nothing new to be said. There are firearms in all warfare, and the
tactical principles they enforce will be approximately constant. Every
great battle takes the form of a series of "attacks on localities,"
or "battles of encounter," however we interpret those phrases. If an
enemy, to whatever Arm belonging, who takes up a "defensive attitude"
can only be attacked by fire in a fight of the Independent Cavalry,
he can only be attacked by fire in a pre-arranged battle; and if the
led horses are a paralyzing encumbrance in the one case, they are
equally so in the other. The great battle, it is true, presents a
more positive and obvious example of the co-operation of the various
Arms; but, as we have seen, the co-operation "of other arms" has been
regarded by the author as a normal incident of the combats he has
already described, and the "purely Cavalry fight" as an altogether
exceptional incident. And since even the purest Cavalry carry the
rifle, they can at any moment sully the purity of the said fight by
resort to that sordid but formidable weapon.
The author, as we might expect, only dimly appreciates the universality
of his own principles--if the mutually destructive propositions
which he alternately lays down can be properly termed principles. He
constantly confuses tactics with combat. Different rules, of course,
must always govern the action of mounted troops and horseless troops,
because the one class is more mobile than the other; but it is
impossible to lay down any lucid and intelligible principles for modern
war until we realize the ubiquity and the supremacy of the missile
weapon, rifle or gun.
The Army Cavalry, he tells us, as distinct from the divisional
Cavalry, "must be engaged _en masse_, and not in detail." "It must
simultaneously engage its whole fighting strength," as an undivided
entity (p. 190 _et seq._), and its proper position is forward of one
of the flanks. We have no sooner grasped this principle than we find
a separate chapter devoted to the action of "those portions of the
Cavalry which find themselves behind the fighting-line, not on the
exposed flank." This subdivision, we are vaguely told, "may be the
result of circumstances," but there is no indication of what those
circumstances are. But this is only one infraction of the principle of
unity. In spite of the distractingly vague use of terms such as "front"
and "flank," "enemy," "hostile forces," "troops within hostile reach,"
we are able to distinguish the following functions for the Cavalry mass
during the battle: It must conduct (1) a "far-reaching exploration"
on the enemy's extreme rear and "probable lines of approach and
communication," so as to give warning of the approach of fresh
reserves; (2) an "immediate tactical reconnaissance," evidently of the
whole battle-front--though the vague expression "against such hostile
troops as may be within tactical reach" might mean almost anything.
But we are told explicitly later that during the whole course of the
battle the Cavalry mass "must in all cases prevent the enemy's patrols
from making observations as to the disposition of our own _Army_,
while, on the other hand, its own reconnaissance should never cease"
(p. 199). We receive a sort of mental dislocation, therefore, when
the author resumes: "Screened by these various measures, the Cavalry
mass now advances fully deployed for the fight." Were "these measures,"
then, only to screen the Cavalry mass? But how can detachments, perhaps
twenty miles away on the other flank, be said to screen the Cavalry
mass? (3) The mass is to provide for the occupation of "defiles and
other important places to the flank and front of the main body"
(_i.e._, of the main _Army_).
Let us pause and think. Supposing the initial battle-front is thirty or
forty miles in extent. Even in the Boer War it was frequently thirty
miles, while in Manchuria the fronts were sometimes enormously more
extensive--at Mukden nearly 100 miles. How in the world is the entire
Cavalry mass, _posted outside one flank_, to provide for the continuous
reconnaissance, close and distant, of such a front, the occupation of
advanced points, and for the maintenance of a reserve behind the front,
while remaining a practically undivided force for united action? What
is the enemy's Cavalry supposed to be doing? In theory, we are told,
they will do the right thing, that is, post themselves by instinct
outside one flank exactly opposite our own mass. But supposing they
do not. Whatever they do, they have got (4) to be "driven from the
field" (the reader will recollect the well-known formula), which will
involve dispersion, if they disperse. But the author is not nearly so
strong on the formula as Sir John French. It is a very small matter (p.
191), this driving of the hostile Cavalry from the field. "It has a
certain value, but is comparatively useless for the main issue of the
battle, unless, further, the possibility is gained of intervening in
the decisive battle of all arms."
Is not the reader conscious of an extraordinary artificiality and
unreality in the terms employed? Why speak of Cavalry driving the
hostile Cavalry off the field, with more emphasis than of Infantry
doing the same to Infantry? Presumably, because Cavalry, as we have
already learnt, cannot break off the fight either in their pure or
debased capacity. But on page 198 the beaten Cavalry is to "seek
shelter behind occupied points of support," where it is to be attacked
by the greatest possible fire-power, words which seem to imply that
hitherto the attack has been by shock. Yet we have had it laid down
as an axiom that neither party to a shock-combat can be used as a
manageable unit for an indefinite time.
(5) The indivisible mass is now subject to fresh disintegration. "All
portions of it not required for the pursuit" just described are to
"regain their tactical cohesion" (an admission that the whole has
lost its tactical cohesion), and, leaving their comrades to carry on
the fire-fight, which may, of course, last for a week or more, are "to
prepare for fresh effort." They are to occupy "localities" near the
ground won, and "garrison" them with dismounted men--a direction we can
scarcely take seriously when we recollect the crushing disabilities
under which Cavalry acting in passive defence have been supposed by the
author to labour (see _supra_, pp. 122-123).
(6) What is left of the mass now "takes up a position of readiness"
secure from the view and fire of the enemy, and disposed in what the
author calls "groups of units." The expression seems to lack precision,
but "this is the most suitable formation." Subsequent action is to
be according to the "circumstances of the various cases," and it is
here that the reminder is casually interpolated that a protective
and offensive reconnaissance along the whole battle-line is to be a
continuous duty of the mass. But this action is "not to be regarded as
sufficient." "The mass is to insure its own advance to that portion
of the field where the decisive battle will probably take place, so
that the charge will not meet with unexpected resistance and obstacles
when the moment comes to ride it home. When this crisis of the battle
approaches, the Cavalry must be ready to intervene.... As the crisis
approaches, endeavours must be made to get as close to the enemy as
possible, in order to shorten the distance that will have to be covered
in the charge." Observe how naturally, how mechanically, the author
associates the "crisis" with a gigantic Cavalry charge, and with
what simple trustfulness he believes that unexpected resistance and
obstacles will melt away, if only the mass can insure its advance to
the right spot in time.
As I shall show, he ruthlessly shatters his own hypothesis in the next
breath; but consider, in the light of "real war," the utter futility
of all this so-called instruction for the "pre-arranged battle," with
its pre-arranged crisis. Note the complete neglect of all the really
important factors, the tremendous power of modern rifles and guns, and
the vast extent and duration of modern battles, as contrasted with
the limited physical powers of the horse and the small proportion
which Cavalry in all armies bears to other Arms. Take Liao-yang, the
Sha-Ho, Mukden, battles which lasted ten days, two weeks, and three
weeks, and try and find from the author's remarks any practical,
tangible guidance for such situations. Fancy one indivisible mass
maintaining a continuous reconnaissance over such distances, occupying
defiles and "localities" to the front, leaving a reserve behind the
battle-front, driving the entire hostile Cavalry from the field, and
utterly destroying its power of further action; garrisoning points in
the ground won, and at the same time advancing towards the "probable"
point of crisis. But this point may be two days' march from the flank,
where the mass--or what remains of it--was posted, and when it gets
there it will certainly find that the crisis is centring round some
strong, defensible position where lances and swords will be less useful
than bows and arrows. No such picture as the author draws occurred in
the Franco-German, Austro-Prussian, or Russo-Turkish Wars. It did not
occur at Vionville, the only battle in which a situation came about
even approximately resembling the circumstances he outlines. So far as
there was a crisis there, and so far as it was dealt with by a Cavalry
charge, the circumstances have radically altered, and there is a "total
absence of analogy," as the author himself expressly states. Bredow's
steel-charge was made against unbroken Infantry and Artillery, flushed
with the hope of victory. Such charges, he has told us with truth, are
utterly impossible in modern war. "I cannot conceive any real case in
which Cavalry can break through detachments of all arms" (p. 160).
"Nowadays, when Infantry can cover the ground to a distance of 1,500
or even 2,000 yards with a hot and rapid fire, and offer in their wide
extension no sort of objective for shock-action, an attack on unshaken,
steadily-firing Infantry, which has any sort of adequate field of fire,
is _quite out of the question_" (p. 127).
It seems odd to have to recall these matters, for the author, as I
said before, shatters his own hypothesis in the paragraphs immediately
following his pages on the crisis and the charge. "However important
and desirable it may be to contribute to the great decision by
a glorious Cavalry charge, it should be borne in mind that the
possibility of this will occur in very rare cases." He goes on to
insist emphatically on this point, saying nothing here about the
vastly enhanced effect of the modern rifle, but basing his argument
on terrain. Great charges, he says, were almost impracticable in the
Franco-Prussian, Russo-Turkish, and Manchurian Wars, and "possible
European theatres of war are but little suitable for charges, owing to
the extent to which they have been cultivated." Peace operations are of
no practical significance, because uncultivated country is expressly
chosen. And so on.
Then, why, we ask, all this reasoned instruction about Cavalry making
its way to the crisis and delivering its charge? Why not have said at
the outset that their normal action must be something quite different?
Instruction for remote improbabilities is practically useless. What the
commander wants to know is what to do as a general rule, especially
when a wrong decision may, owing to the extent of the battle-field,
involve him in ignominious impotence. Such is Cavalry literature.
Serious men in any other walk of life would not tolerate exposition of
this sort.
We discover now that the Cavalry are not, after all, to make their way
to the crisis and charge. That was conventional rhetoric. In reality
they are to _act on the rear of the hostile army_, "upon the reserves,
the column of supply, the heavy Artillery, etc." "It is here that
opportunities for decisive action must be sought." Well, obviously
that is a different proposition altogether. Why not have begun with
it? Habit--just the irresistible habit of associating Cavalry with
shock, and of calling shock their "proper rôle," although it is only
their "exceptional" rôle. For, of course, such action as the author
now indicates is purely a matter of fire. That is why no such decisive
attack upon the rear of a great Army has ever in recent times been
accomplished by European Cavalry. The Cavalries of the sixties and
seventies in the last century were absolutely incapable of such action,
owing to their lack of fire-power. He is no doubt thinking of his model
war, the American struggle of 1861-1865, and if he were truly candid,
he would tell his countrymen that the brilliant exploits of the Civil
War leaders in raiding communications and "hostile reserves" were
performed solely through the rifle.
The author is perfectly aware that the modern rifle has five times
the power of the rifle of 1865, but he has not the courage of his
own opinions, and descends to misty compromise. "Such action must,
of course, be conducted with a due co-operation between mounted and
dismounted action." What is the use of a rule like that? "Against
intact hostile reserves the firearm will be principally used." Why
"principally"? Will not these intact reserves, to say the least, "take
up a defensive attitude," and therefore render a fire-attack, according
to his own repeatedly formulated rule, absolutely indispensable?
"Against columns of waggons it will be well to commence by
fire-action." Why "commence" only? Is there no lesson from South Africa
here? On what single occasion were lances and swords of the smallest
value in attacks on transport? Not on one. And on how many occasions
did mounted riflemen, destitute of these weapons, capture transport
and guns and rout reserves? We all know--Sir John French knows--what
our troops suffered in this way. Why does he not warn his countrymen,
instead of telling them that these German speculations are brilliant,
logical, conclusive, complete?
Look once more at the great Manchurian battles. Observe, for example,
the great battle of Mukden, (with its awful record of massacre by
firearms), when a Japanese Cavalry brigade, acting with Nogi's turning
force, endeavoured to operate on the Russian rear. It was miserably
weak numerically, and it failed to accomplish anything "decisive";
but it did wonders, as it was, purely through fire. Has any critic,
however enamoured of the _arme blanche_, ever suggested that, however
strong, it could have accomplished anything with the lance and sword?
The very suggestion is preposterous. Fire ruled that terrific struggle
from first to last. Look at Mishchenko's pitiful Cavalry raid on the
Japanese communications in January, 1905; and observe the shame which
overtakes Cavalry who cannot fight on foot: whole brigades paralyzed
by squads of isolated riflemen, reminding us only too painfully of
Dronfield and Poplar Grove; Cossacks pathetically charging stone
walls with drawn swords; disaster and humiliation clouding the whole
sordid drama. Sir John French's contribution to our enlightenment on
the Manchurian War, in his Introduction to Bernhardi's first book,
"Cavalry in Future Wars," was that the Cossacks failed through excess
of training as riflemen. He has not repeated that statement in his
Introduction to the second book. He scarcely could.
All the world knows the truth now--namely, that the Cossacks, as one
who rode with them said, "once dismounted, were lost." They did not
know how to handle rifles, and all their humiliations may be traced
to that fact. Nor did the Japanese Cavalry at first, and they were
equally impotent. But they learnt, and learnt to admirable purpose, as
the records show. If he cannot repeat and confirm what he said in his
first Introduction, why is Sir John French altogether silent on the
point in his second Introduction? Well, it was an awkward dilemma for
him; for Bernhardi himself (p. 97), in his chapter on Raids, alludes
to Mishchenko's raid in highly significant, though characteristically
obscure, language. And if he follows up the clue, the reader may
understand why it is that only on this one solitary question of raids,
out of all the multitude of topics dealt with in the two books, Sir
John French "ventures to differ" from the German author, pronouncing,
for his own part, against them. Von Bernhardi expressly founds his
advocacy of the raid on the American Civil War. "The idea," he says
naïvely, "is taken" from that war. As though the Boers who made the
raids of 1901, of which he never seems to have heard, took their ideas
from that war or any other! Their ideas were the fruit of their own
common sense. Now, the Civil War is particularly dangerous ground in
England for advocates of the _arme blanche_, although it is safe enough
ground in Germany, where nobody studies it, and where there has been
no Henderson to immortalize the exploits of the great Cavalry leaders.
Fire, and fire alone, rendered the American raids possible.
I need scarcely say that there is no incongruity in discussing together
the raid proper and the attack on the reserves and communications of a
great Army from which my digression originated. The weapon factor is
precisely the same in both. Rifles are rifles and lances are lances,
whatever the strategical or tactical scheme which bring them into play.
We turn lastly to the rôle of that portion of theoretically
indivisible Cavalry mass which is maintained as a "reserve behind the
front" (p. 204). The author's method is the same: first, to expound
at length the duties and powers of this body as though they were its
normal duties and powers, and then to state that these normal duties
and powers--in other words, the "proper rôle"--of the force concerned
are, in nine cases out of ten, impracticable and visionary. He first
represents the great mounted charge as the primary object, the great
mounted charge, moreover, against _Infantry_; for in this case there
will be little chance, he says, of having "to deal with the hostile
Cavalry." He proceeds to lay down the truly delightful maxim that the
force is to mass behind "that part of the fighting line where the
ground is adapted for a charge of large masses," though he has taken
great trouble to show in the previous chapter, quite correctly, that
this is precisely the kind of ground upon which important struggles
will not centre. Then, in flat defiance of all he has said about
charges against Infantry, he advocates what in effect is our old
discredited friend the "death ride" against unshaken and victorious
Infantry (p. 208), "in order to relieve our own exhausted Infantry,"
etc. The Cavalry are to "ride through the hostile Infantry, and fall
upon the Artillery," although we know already that the author "can
conceive no case in which Cavalry can break through detachments of all
arms," and that an enemy who takes up even a defensive attitude can
only be attacked by dismounted action. But in a flash of recollection
of a prior maxim, he enjoins that not only the preliminary deployment,
but the formation for attack in widely extended order, must take place
"beyond the effective range of the enemy's fire"; for "once outside
this zone ... nothing else can be done but to gallop straight for the
front." Beyond the effective range of the enemy's fire! What is that
range? He has told us before that it must, for average purposes, be
reckoned 6,500 yards, or nearly four miles. Conceive a charge of four
miles, begun out of sight of the enemy, and in the blissful confidence
that at the end of it the "ground will be suitable" for fighting on
horseback with steel weapons! He proceeds in this strain for four
pages, elaborating his topic with detailed tactical instructions, and
then comes the usual nullifying paragraph:
"It must be clearly understood that in this case, as in the other
where the Cavalry is on the flank of the army, there will seldom be
an opportunity for a charge." What, then, if not a charge? Half a
page of fervid generalization. "The first essential is that victory
shall be won.... The Cavalry must not shrink from employing its whole
force on the fire-fight." We are bidden, rightly enough, to study the
ancient lesson of Fredericksburg. But it is now 1911. And we know what
the author's views of the fire-fight for Cavalry are--that, owing to
the burden of led horses, it is never on any account to be attempted,
unless there is an assurance of complete moral, tactical, and numerical
superiority. _Cadit quæstio_ once more. Our reserve becomes a dummy.
There remain two topics in connection with the great pre-arranged
battle of all arms--"Pursuit and Retreat" and the "Rôle of the
Divisional Cavalry." I shall take the latter first, and, with little
comment, merely appeal to the reader's sense of humour. "In the battle
of all arms," says the General, "as soon as fighting contact has been
established with the enemy, and the close and combat reconnaissance
is then probably at an end, the divisional Cavalry must endeavour to
gain touch with the Army Cavalry in order to strengthen the latter for
the battle. In so doing it must not, of course, lose all connection
with its own Infantry division." Remember that the Army Cavalry is, by
hypothesis, well outside our flank of a battle area which may be of
any extent from ten to seventy miles. Picture the various divisional
Cavalries along this front endeavouring to "gain touch" with the
Army Cavalry, while not losing connection with their own respective
divisions.
It may be that this particular injunction has aroused merriment in
Germany. That is not our business. But that Sir John French, with
undisturbed gravity, should solemnly pass it on to Englishmen as the
last word of military wisdom--that is extraordinary. Observe that, as
usual, the _arme blanche_ is responsible for the aberrations of the
German writer. In the succeeding sentence this becomes clear. "When
this cannot be done, and _when no other chance of mounted action
offers_, the divisional Cavalry must seize the rifle, and act as an
immediate support for the Infantry." The words I have italicized show
that the physical feats contemplated in the original injunction are
to be performed in the interests of shock, and that, if in the cold
prosaic light of day they daunt the imagination of the leaders on the
field, there is nothing left but to "seize the rifle."
"Pursuit and Retreat" is a chapter which almost defies any brief
analysis. Only those who are thoroughly acquainted with the curiously
ambiguous vocabulary which hampers Cavalry writers at every turn can
fully appreciate the bankruptcy of the steel weapons as disclosed in
these pages, and, at the same time, the disastrous effect of these
useless bits of steel upon the reasoning faculties of those who still
believe in them. The first few pages leave us only the impression
that both pursuit and retreat are very dubious topics for Cavalry.
We approach the kernel of the matter at p. 215, where the writer
deprecates "direct frontal pursuits," which "will generally yield but
meagre results against the masses of the modern Army and the firearm
of the present day." The enemy will occupy "localities, woods, and the
like," and "bring the Cavalry pursuit to a standstill." "Only when
completely demoralized troops are retreating in the open, and cannot be
reached by fire" (what this last clause means I cannot conceive), "will
a charge be feasible." Very good; but why not have followed the same
principle in earlier chapters, instead of talking of Cavalry charging
Infantry under cover, etc.? "Frontal pursuit is essentially a matter
for the Infantry, who must press the retreating enemy to the utmost."
This seems a fairly definite rule, but we have no sooner grasped it
than it is cancelled.
"On the other hand, it is, of course, the duty of the Cavalry to
maintain touch with the enemy under all circumstances. With this object
in view, it must continue the _frontal pursuit_, sometimes even
without seeking to draw on a fight, by day and night." How one can
continue a _frontal_ pursuit by day and night without seeking to draw
on a fight I leave the reader to guess. We turn to "Retreat," which
is, of course, the counterpart of pursuit, only to be involved in a
fresh tangle. Whether the enemy's Cavalry is assumed to be conducting
a frontal pursuit by day and night in spite of its "meagre results,"
or whether our own Infantry are bearing the brunt of the retreat in
the face of the frontal pursuit of the enemy's Infantry--a pursuit
which is "essentially" their business--we are left in uncertainty.
All we have are vague heroics about the "maintenance of morale" (the
writer seems to be very nervous about the morale of Cavalry), about
never renouncing a "relentless offensive," and about attacking the
"enemy," wherever possible, with the cold steel. We find ourselves
wondering how it is that "completely demoralized troops retreating in
the open" (by hypothesis the only proper subjects for a steel-charge)
can be, nevertheless, conducting a victorious pursuit, and our only
escape from the entanglement is that in the case now considered by the
author "enemy" means "Cavalry," who are, apparently, so far inferior
to Infantry (though they carry the very weapon which makes Infantry
formidable) that they can be "relentlessly attacked," even when they
are not completely demoralized.
One soon ceases to be surprised at anything in this species of
literature, or one would gasp with amazement at the levity with which
Cavalrymen throw ridicule on their own Arm. Suddenly and very tardily
we come upon an indication of the alternative to that frontal pursuit
which gives such meagre results and yet must be continued day and
night. "Thus, when it becomes no longer possible to show a front to
the pursuing Cavalry in the open, measures must be taken to block the
routes upon which his _parallel_ pursuit is operating," etc. Does not
the reader feel his brain going when he reads a sentence like this?
What antithesis can there be between Cavalry "pursuing in the open"
and Cavalry conducting a "parallel pursuit"? There is no more or less
probability of open ground in a parallel than in a frontal pursuit. It
is the old story. One half of the writer's brain is back in the days of
Frederick the Great; the other half is in working in the medium of the
present.
That is the key to this chapter, from which a Cavalry leader could
not gain one concrete, definite rule for his guidance in real war.
On pursuit, as on many other topics, the author was more clear and
instructive in his earlier work, "Cavalry in Future Wars" (Chapter
IV.), where he was not hampered by having to consider Regulations with
any pretence to modernity, and where he accordingly spoke with freedom
on the absolute necessity of fire-action in pursuit; though he could
not even then wholly grasp the corollary, the absolute necessity of
fire-action in retreat.
II.--THE BRITISH VIEW.
Let us now, as in the case of the fight of the Independent Cavalry,
contrast the directions given by our own authorities for the great
battle of all Arms ("Cavalry Training," pp. 225-229). One point of
difference we may dispose of at once. The divisional Cavalry (who are
Mounted Infantry) and the "protective" Cavalry (to which there is no
German counterpart) behave rationally. They remain with, or drop back
to, their respective main bodies, and there make themselves generally
useful. The rules for the Independent or Army Cavalry, on the other
hand, present a curious study. On the German model, this main mass is,
generally speaking, to be posted forward of one of the flanks. (There
is no suggestion of a "reserve behind the front.") But we notice at
once, with some surprise, that nothing is said about the corresponding
hostile Cavalry mass, which, according to von Bernhardi, should be the
primary objective, and whose "absolute and complete overthrow" is,
according to Sir John French (p. xiv), a "primary necessity."
The explanation is that one of the opposing Cavalry masses is assumed
to have been already absolutely and completely overthrown--that is,
during the pre-battle reconnaissance phase, whose central incident, as
described in pp. 192-194 and 200-212 of the Manual, and criticized by
me in the last chapter, is the great shock-duel of the two Independent
Cavalries--a duel which is to result in the annihilation of one side or
the other, and to which I shall have to return once more in the next
chapter. The thread is resumed on p. 224 with the words, "Once the
Independent Cavalry has defeated its opponent," etc., and from that
point onwards nothing is heard of the hostile Independent Cavalry.
The explanation of Sir John French's expression is the same. On p.
xv he, too, assumes that _before the battle_ the hostile Cavalry has
been disposed of, and says, somewhat vaguely, that the "true rôle
of Cavalry on the battle-field is to reconnoitre, to deceive, and
finally to support"--functions which he distinctly suggests should be
carried out mainly through fire-action by troops "accustomed to act
in large bodies dismounted." And we seem to recognize this view in the
functions outlined in the Manual on p. 225. "Reconnoitre," it is true,
disappears. We find no echo of von Bernhardi's chimerical conception
of a double reconnaissance, distant and close, along the whole
battle-front; nor, we may add, of his injunction to "occupy defiles and
other important places to the flanks and front" of the Army.
The rôles suggested for the flank Cavalry mass are:
1. To "act against the enemy's flanks."
2. To combine _fire_ concentrically with the main attack.
3. To pursue on parallel lines--a function which it is laid down on p.
229 is to be performed mainly with the rifle.
4. To force the enemy away from his direct line of retreat; which is
merely a corollary of No. 3.
So far, good; but the _arme blanche_, as we might expect, is not
going to be suppressed in this summary fashion, and when we pass
from pious generalization to the actual "crisis," which "offers the
greatest opportunities for Cavalry action," we breathe once more the
intoxicating atmosphere of the great shock-charge, not against Cavalry
now (for they are _ex hypothesi_ extinct), but against Infantry and
Artillery. There is a mild caution about the "modern bullet," but it
is evidently not intended to be taken very seriously. The relation
between the "flank" phase and functions and the "crisis" phase and
functions is passed over in silence. Von Bernhardi's difficulty about
deployment and advance under modern fire is surmounted by the simple
direction that for what is called the "approach" surprise is essential;
yet in the next breath "fire-swept zones" are envisaged which are to
be passed over in a "series of rushes from shelter to shelter in the
least vulnerable formation"--a process exclusive of surprise; and on
the absolutely vital point of the formation for the actual attack one
can positively watch the compilers struggling to reconcile Cromwellian
principles with modern facts, and embodying the result in studiously
vague and misleading language. The front of the Cavalry is not to be
"too narrow," but the imperative necessity insisted on by von Bernhardi
of _wide extension_ in the whole attacking force is implicitly denied
by the direction that "squadrons in extended order may be used to
divert the enemy's attention from the _real attack_." Then, there is to
be the stereotyped rally, which is to be in "mass," and the resulting
mass is apparently to escape from further fire by using "another route."
When will our soldiers base their rules on war facts? As I have said,
the facts show that it is still possible, in certain conditions, for
men on horses, big target as they are, to penetrate a modern fire-zone,
and attack and defeat riflemen and Artillery; but it is impossible to
do so if they insist on conforming their methods to the assumption
that they are to do their killing work by remaining in the saddle and
wielding steel weapons. That idea is fatal. It is that idea which
promotes these rules about not too narrow fronts, these grotesque
mounted rallies in mass, and this pregnant silence about the real point
of interest--what actually happens when a line of horsemen, stirrup to
stirrup, or in extended order, wielding lances and swords, impinges on
an extended line of dismounted riflemen. We know from war experience
that such a charge, stirrup to stirrup, is as extinct as the dodo, and
is advocated in set terms by no rational being. It has not even been
tried or contemplated since 1870. We know that the widely extended type
has shared the fate of the other, because, with the loss of physical
"shock," the steel weapons have lost their whole historical _raison
d'être_. The only practicable mounted charge known to modern war is
that of the mounted riflemen, who _fight up to the charge_, and use the
only weapon which is effective against riflemen--namely, the rifle,
fortified, if need be, by the bayonet. This charge is not an essential
to victory. Heaven knows we lost guns and men and transport enough in
South Africa without any mounted charging. The very object of a missile
weapon is to overcome distance in a way that the lance and sword cannot
overcome it. For all we know, even the mounted rifle charge may wholly
disappear as science improves the firearm. But that improved firearm
will itself rule combat, and banish into still remoter realms of memory
the reign of the lance and sword.
I have excepted the case of the "utterly demoralized" enemy--utterly
demoralized, of course, by _fire_. He is, naturally, fair game for
any weapon, and experience proves that the firearm once more is
incomparably the best weapon. Lances and swords are, relatively, slow,
cumbrous, and ineffective. A magazine pistol used even from horseback
is a better weapon than either.
Nothing is said by our authorities as to attack during the battle
upon the enemy's reserves and transport, enterprises in which von
Bernhardi, after dismissing as a rare exception the great shock-charge,
concludes that Cavalry are to seek their decisive opportunities. We
may assume that, like raids on communications, they are ruled out.
But no alternative to the shock-charge at the crisis is suggested,
for the parallel pursuit is, of course, a subsequent phase. There is
only the ominous reservation that, if the _ground_ is not favourable
to the shock-charge, the "Cavalry commander must look for his chance
elsewhere, _or wait for a more favourable opportunity_" (p. 227).
That is just what we have to fear. That was the old, narrow, ignorant
outlook of the continental Cavalries, who were always waiting for
favourable opportunities, and accounts for the idleness and lack of
enterprise which von Moltke stigmatized in 1866, and for the paltry
character of their performances as a whole, which von Bernhardi
recognizes and condemns. It accounts for the miserable failure of
the Cossacks in Manchuria, and explains the success of the Japanese
Cavalry, once they realized the worthlessness of their German
instruction and textbooks, and discovered for themselves the worth of
the rifle as a stimulus to activity and mobility. Von Bernhardi says
(p. 202): "The greatest imaginable error ... is to adopt a waiting
attitude ... in order that the possibility of a great charge might not
slip by unutilized." That error is precisely what we have to fear.
Teach Cavalry that their lances and swords are their principal weapons,
and that the rifle is a defensive weapon; tell them that the "climax of
training" is the steel charge, "since upon it depends the final result
of the battle"; found their "spirit" on the steel; make it in theory
their "proper rôle"; give it a vocabulary of stirring epithets, like
"glorious," "relentless," "remorseless," and all the rest, and they are
only too likely, eager for battle as they are, to "wait for favourable
opportunities" which will never occur, when they ought to be busy and
active with their horses and rifles.
The sections on pursuit and retreat are modelled on similar sections
in von Bernhardi's earlier book, "Cavalry in Future Wars," and escape
therefore some of the contradictions of the later work. Since they
lay predominant stress on fire, we can only hope that their obvious
blindness to the true reasons for fire does little harm. Pursuits,
whether by Infantry or Cavalry, be they frontal, parallel, or
intercepting, will always be governed by fire. The thing that really
distinguishes Cavalry from Infantry is that they have horses, which
give them a vast scope for a class of intercepting tactics which
Infantry cannot undertake so easily. But even Infantry will be better
at any form of pursuit than a purely shock-trained Cavalry. Sir John
French would have intercepted the Boers, not only at Paardeberg, but at
Poplar Grove, Karee Siding, Dewetsdorp, and Zand River, if his Cavalry
had understood the rifle as well as they understood the horse. Retreat
is the counterpart of pursuit, and the same principles apply. Cavalry
ought to be able to fight a rearguard action better than Infantry,
because, thanks to their mobility, they can choose defensive points
more freely, hold them longer, and fall back to others quicker. But
if they are taught that it is beneath them to entrench and to defend
a fire-position with stubborn tenacity, and that their proper rôle is
to be performing Frederician fantasias with the lance and sword, then
they are likely, "in real war," to be relegated to a sphere "outside
effective rifle-range," and to find their place usurped by Infantry
and mounted riflemen. There is very little to be known about rearguard
actions which the Boers have not taught us, and yet they were, in
Cavalry parlance, "defenceless"--in other words, steelless riflemen.