<h2 class="vspace"><SPAN name="CHAPTER_X"></SPAN>CHAPTER X<br/> <span class="subhead">THE NEW ARMY</span></h2></div>
<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap1">In</span> the course of these pages the remark has
already been made that the British Army is
in a state of flux; this is true mainly as regards
numbers and organisation, but with regard to
discipline and training no very great changes are
possible. Methods of training may alter, and do
alter for the better from time to time, but the
basic principles remain, since an army can be
trained only in one way: by the use of strict
discipline and of means calculated to impart to
men the greatest possible amount of instruction
in the shortest space of time. The more quickly
a man absorbs the main points of his training, the
better for him and for the army whose effectiveness
he is intended to increase.</p>
<p>In the new army of to-day, from which it is
intended to draft effective men into the firing
line at the earliest possible moment, rapidity of
training is a prime essential. At the outset, owing
to the enormous numbers of men who flocked to<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_159">159</SPAN></span>
the colours, training was no easy matter, and
for some time to come instructors will be scarce
when compared with the multitude of men who
require training. In order to combat this, instructors
have been asked to re-enlist from among
ex-soldiers who, past fighting age themselves, are
yet quite capable of drilling the new men. A
minor drawback arises here, however, in that such
of the instructors as left the colours before a certain
date are out of touch as regards modern weapons
and drill. For instance, the field gun at present
in use in the British Army was not generally
adopted until after the conclusion of the South
African campaign; in the case of the cavalry,
again, important modifications have been brought
about in drill and formations during the last ten
years, while the charger loading rifle with wind
gauge is comparatively an innovation both as
regards cavalry and infantry. It is not intended
to imply that drill instructors who finished their
colour service ten or twelve years ago are of no use,
for, in the matters of imparting elementary drill
and the first principles of discipline to the
recruits, they are invaluable and far too few. But,
in more advanced matters, it must be conceded
that the sooner the new army can instruct itself
the better, for the proverb about an old dog and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_160">160</SPAN></span>
new tricks may be applied to re-enlisted instructors
and the new army, which is a whole bag of new
tricks.</p>
<p>It is essential that the new army should train
itself at the earliest possible moment, and for this
reason there are endless opportunities for the man
with brains who enlists at the present time. The
re-enlisted drill instructor will not accompany the
men of the new army into the field, and, as an army
increases, a relative increase must be made in the
number of its non-commissioned officers, while
there are also vacancies by the hundred for commissioned
officers. For the average man, however,
it is useless at the present time to depend on
influence and back-door methods for promotion.
Worth is all that will count, and an ounce of
enlistment to-day is worth a ton of influence that
might have been exercised yesterday. It is as
true of the new army as of any other profession
that there is plenty of room at the top. The way
to get there is by enlistment to-day and hard and
patient application to one’s work for a matter of
weeks or months.</p>
<p>No man can tell how long the new army will last,
or what will be the conditions of service and
strength of the army after the proclamation of
peace. One thing, however, is certain. Not while<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_161">161</SPAN></span>
a first-class power remains on the continent of
Europe will conscription cease altogether between
the Urals and the Atlantic, or between Archangel
and Brindisi. It is quite probable that when
peace comes again, universal conscription will
cease, for there will no longer be an embodied
threat in central Europe—the Powers will have
no more of that, and the burden of armaments
on the old scale must cease. On the other hand,
however, nations will maintain sufficient forces
to enable them to insist on international justice;
the threat of the sword will always form the final
court of appeal from the decisions of any arbitration
body, and, while this is so, a British army
must always be maintained. The existence of
primal human instinct is fatal to the idea of total
disarmament; war may not come again, for that
is a contingency with regard to which none can
prophesy, but the fact remains that the best
provision for peace is ample preparation against the
chances of war.</p>
<p>Thus the man who looks for a career out of the
British Army need not look in vain, for there will
always be sufficient of an army, if only for colonial
and foreign service, to furnish capable men with all
the careers that they may desire. The other
reason for enlistment, less selfish and more vital,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_162">162</SPAN></span>
has been expressed by many voices and by means
of many pens; the country has called, and there
are ugly names for those who, without sufficient
claims of kin to form cause for exemption, refuse
to answer the call.</p>
<p>With regard to the composition of the new army
it may be said that the standing of the men has
altered materially since the outbreak of hostilities,
though this is in keeping with the trend of thought
and feeling that has been evident since the end of
the South African campaign. Up to the end of
the nineteenth century there still remained obscure
provincial centres in which it was supposed that
only wastrels would enlist, with a view to getting
an easy means of livelihood; farther back, this
conception of the Army was a very common one.
It is hard to say at what period of British history
such an idea gained currency, unless the employment
of mercenaries previous to the time of the
French Revolution may have given it birth. For,
long before Waterloo, the British soldier gave
ample proof of the stuff of which he is made, and
there is not a battlefield of history from which
there has not come some instance of self-denial or
devotion to a comrade which attests among the
ranks of the British Army the existence of the
highest principles by which humanity is actuated.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_163">163</SPAN></span>
But, up to the end of the nineteenth century,
civilians could not understand the Army. Kipling
taught them a little, but Kipling’s soldiers are all
hard drinkers with a tendency to the slaughter of
aspirates, and various other linguistic eccentricities.
As character studies, Kipling’s soldiers are
masterly works, but they bear little relation to
the soldier of to-day, who, even as an infantryman,
is required to be an educated man in certain
directions, since he lives in a welter of wind gauges
and trajectory, decimal points and mathematical
calculations with regard to the accomplishment of
his duties. The public as a whole has been
waking up to these facts slowly—very slowly—but
it has taken the world-catastrophe of a general
European war to shake the public entirely from
its apathy, and cause it to realise that the Army
is an agglomeration of men in the highest sense of
that little three-lettered word. There is to-day
among all ranks and classes a realisation of the
good that is, and always has been in the Army;
there is a new interest in soldiers, in military
movements, and in all that pertains to the theory
and practice of war, and this augurs well for the
future of members of the new army, both on duty
and among their friends. Counting from the day
that the nation wakened to the good that is in the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_164">164</SPAN></span>
Army, and the possibility of soldiers being at root
like other men, military uniform has become a
matter for pride to its wearer, and respect from
those who from any cause are unable to assume
the uniform. As this war has knit together
motherland and colonies, so, by means of this war,
the soldier has come to his own. The new army
is not a thing apart from the nation: it is the
nation.</p>
<p>The new army means an increase not in numbers
alone, for we may accept as a principle that the
best will rule in a mass composed of all sorts from
best to worst—that is, if we grant relative equality
in the numbers of best and worst, and of each
intervening grade. Periods of commercial prosperity
have left the Army dependent mainly on
the unemployed for its recruits, with a corresponding
loss in education and moral tone, but the
new army is composed of men of all grades,
actuated for the most part by the highest possible
impulses, and asking only to be allowed to give
of their best. Enlisting in this spirit, it is inevitable
that these men should look upward, and
thus the best will rule. For purposes of rule the
Army needs the very best, for its own sake and
that of the future of the nation’s manhood. In
gaining the best and their influence, the Army will<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_165">165</SPAN></span>
increase in social standing and moral tone as well
as in numbers.</p>
<p>No man comes out from the Army as he went in;
there are many types, and with the enormous
increase in numbers at the present time, the
number of types will increase as well as the number
of representatives of each type. Country youths,
town dwellers, agricultural labourers—who often
make the best and keenest soldiers—men who know
nothing of what labour is like, skilled artisans,
and men from the office—all come to the ranks of
the Army, which, shaping them to compliance
with discipline, still leaves the stamp of individuality.
The soldiers of the new army will come
back to their ordinary avocations bearing the
stamp of military training, stronger physically,
and different in many ways—mainly improved
ways. But the metal on which the stamp of the
Army is impressed will remain the same, for one
is first a man and then a soldier. The instances of
Prussian brutality evident to-day, and an eternal
disgrace to the German nation, do not prove
anything against the Prussian military system,
but afford evidence that brutality is ingrained in
the Prussian before he goes up as a conscript to
begin his training. So, whatever the characteristics
of a man may be, the Army cannot make a<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_166">166</SPAN></span>
brave soldier out of a cowardly civilian, and it
cannot make a good man into a bad one; it
accentuates certain traits of character and drives
others into the background, but it neither destroys
nor creates. It is a training school which, taken
in the right way, brings out all that is best in a
man, stiffens him to face the battle of life as well
as the battles of military service, and strengthens
self-confidence and self-respect. The men who
are seen to have suffered in character during their
military training are by no means examples from
which one can cite the result of discipline and
army work, for it is not the training that is at
fault, but the inherent weakness of the men themselves.
The social standing of the majority of
recruits joining the new army renders it ten times
more true of the Army of to-day than of the Army
of yesterday, that military training gives more
than it demands, inculcates habits which, followed
in after life, are invaluable, and makes a man—in
the best sense of the word—of each one who joins
its ranks.</p>
<p>One thing that officers and men alike in the new
army should be made to realise is that the possession
of a good kit carries one half of the way
on active service—the things that carry the other
half of the way are not to be purchased. But the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_167">167</SPAN></span>
man who has undergone the rigours of active
service understands the value of good boots, good
field-glasses, well-fitting and suitable clothing,
and really portable accessories to personal comfort.
These things, and an intelligent choice of
them, go far to make up the difference between the
man successful at his work and the failure, for
although a bad workman is said to quarrel with
his tools a good workman cannot do good work
with bad tools. In the peculiarly exacting conditions
entailed on men by active service, kit and
equipment should be of the best quality obtainable,
and the choice of what to take and what to leave
behind is evidence, to some extent, of the fitness of
the man for his work. The most important item
of all is boots, and in fitting boots for active service
one should be careful to select a size that will
admit of the wearer enjoying a night’s sleep without
removing his footwear. Care of the feet, and
retention of the ability to march, are quite as
important as shooting abilities, for the man who
cannot march with the rest will not be in it when
the shooting begins. For the rest, it is wise to
try, if not to follow, as often as possible the tips
given, by men who have been on active service,
with regard to the choice of kit and the little
things that make for comfort—that is, as far as<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_168">168</SPAN></span>
compliance with these “tips” is compatible with
keeping the size of one’s outfit down. The seasoned
man, when talking of such subjects as kit and
comfort, usually speaks out of his own experience,
and his advice is worth following. The golden
rule in the choice of an outfit for service is simply
“as little as possible, and that little good.”</p>
<p>This rule, by the way, used to be applied to the
British Army in another way: the new army,
however, makes a difference in the matter of size.</p>
<hr />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_169">169</SPAN></span></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />