MILITARY ADVISER TO THE AUSTRALIAN COLONIES IN LONDON
On my arrival in London I found that my wife was not well. As a matter of fact, she was anything but well. I at once removed her and the children to Richmond Hill and set to work at my new duties. I was not prepared for the consternation which my arrival in London caused amongst the Agents-General of the Colonies which I was to represent. Kingston had evidently thought it advisable not to cable, with the result that the official notification arrived by post practically at the same time as myself. Not having any idea that their Governments in Australia intended to send anyone home to fill the appointment, the Agents-General had accepted the services of another Royal Artillery officer on the Active List to carry on pending a definite appointment being made, in accordance with the conditions which had held when Colonel Harman was appointed. This officer, Lieutenant-Colonel Baker, was as much surprised as anybody when I arrived to take up the duties which he naturally thought would devolve upon himself. My position therefore was not a very pleasant one, but I saw no reason why, with tact and care, the unpleasantness should not be removed. I was right in my forecast, and, before two months had passed, my official relations with all concerned became quite satisfactory.
There is no need, nor would it be of any special interest, to enter into details of the many and varied duties which appertained to the appointment. I had to buy anything, from a submarine or destroyer to brass instruments for bands, and from the largest of guns to carbines and bayonets and officers’ whistles. The question of advising the Government on making inquiries as to inventions was not part of my duties, but yet hardly a week or a fortnight passed that some persistent inventor did not find his way into my offices. The question of getting new inventions fully considered and tested by the War Office was always a difficult one to those who did not know the ropes, and there seemed to be a general idea amongst these clever gentlemen that, if they could get some of the Colonies to accept what they had to offer, it would be an easy road to the War Office. During my time in London, however, I must say that while several clever and very ingenious devices were brought to me, none proved good enough to enable me to recommend their adoption.
It had been decreed by the War Office that manœuvres on a much larger scale than had as yet been held in England should take place during the summer, and I looked forward with a great deal of interest to being present thereat. There appeared to be three principal objects in carrying them out, to give senior officers an opportunity of handling large bodies of men actually in the field; secondly, to test the departmental services; and thirdly, to test the possibilities and reliability of a system of hired transport.
The invited visiting officers were quartered at the Counties Hotel, Salisbury. Its situation was fairly convenient and it was quite a comfortable hotel. There were to be two armies, the Northern and the Southern, the two together numbering somewhere between 80,000 and 100,000 men and commanded respectively by the Duke of Connaught and General Sir Redvers Buller. The period of manœuvres lasted some eight days. Salisbury Plain and the surrounding country was the headquarters of the Northern Army, while the Southern Army was camped beyond the Downs to the south-west.
From the very start of the concentration of the troops the weather promised to be of a very trying character. The sun shone with almost tropical force. The large bodies of troops, moving through the narrow roadways and lanes, hemmed in by the high hedges, churned up clouds of dust. Moving in the rear of the troops thousands of wagons of the hired transport made matters worse. I doubt if ever a more extraordinary collection of vehicles and beasts of burden was ever got together anywhere in the world. Big furniture vans, drawn by four or three wretched-looking horses, would be seen just in front of two-wheeled carts drawn by a couple of powerful Clydesdales. The majority of the drivers, being civilians, did much as they pleased. Once a section of the transport was committed to a long piece of road or narrow lane without cross-roads it simply had to go on; it couldn’t turn round; it trusted to Providence to reach its destination. I think it was the third or fourth day that the task set to the armies was the occupation of a long ridge of the Downs, some eight or ten miles south-west from Salisbury.
Operations were to begin at six in the morning and cease at two p.m., and the visiting officers were attached that day to the Northern Army. The starting points of the two armies were at about equal distances from the objective. The point at issue was—who was to occupy the long ridge position first? It was frightfully hot; I have never known it hotter in England. I was glad of my Australian hat and light khaki uniform as I rode along the ranks of the sweltering infantry; the Scotch in their small glengarrys, the artillery with their old-fashioned forage caps, all were smothered in dust.
As the Northern Army advanced commanding officers anxiously sought for news of the enemy. About half-past twelve the visiting officers decided to ask permission to push forward to the head of the advance guard and see what was happening, for the hour to stop the battle was getting close at hand and no enemy was in sight. We pushed forward right to the slopes of the rising downs. Still no signs of the enemy beyond a few small cavalry patrols, which promptly retired before those of the Northern Army. We were taken up to the crown of the ridges.
On arrival there we could plainly see large bodies of the enemy, evidently resting, and camping in some beautifully wooded, shady country about three or four miles away. Apparently something had gone wrong somewhere. While the Northern Army marched some nine or ten miles in that awful heat, their enemies had probably not done more than three or four miles. But the Northern Army had won the day. It had also been arranged that—no matter which side did win the battle that day, on the next morning the Northern Army was to retire again, fighting a rear-guard action. Lord Wolseley was by no means pleased with the day’s work. It was reported that after listening at the usual pow-wow to what the officer commanding the Southern Army, Buller, had to say about the movements of his troops during the day, he expressed his opinions in fairly forcible terms.
Operations were to commence again at six o’clock the next morning. A few captive balloons were being used for observation purposes by both sides. It was presumed that the Southern Army would take the opportunity, after the comparative rest of the day before, of showing their mettle, and a fairly ding-dong fight was expected. So we were early in the field, back to the old ridge on the Downs, where the battle had ceased the day before. We were not disappointed.
I personally spent some unprofitable hours up in the air. One of the captive balloons, in charge of an engineer officer, was just being prepared ready to ascend when the officer, whom I knew well, invited me to go up with him. I handed my horse to the orderly and jumped into the basket, and we were soon up some hundreds of feet in the air. It was an interesting sight to see the southern force making its way to the attack through the valleys between the ridges. It was not pleasing to notice a half-squadron of cavalry suddenly emerge from under cover of a farm near by and charge straight for the wagon of our captive balloon. I wondered what was going to happen. Could the wagon get away out of reach in time? It didn’t seem possible. My host had no intention of being captured; he cut off the balloon from the wagon, which was duly taken. The day turned out as hot as the day before. There was hardly a breath of air and our balloon hung poised over the enemy’s troops now passing under it. If we came down we would, of course, fall into their hands as prisoners. My host was determined not to be caught and refused to come down. A couple of batteries of the enemy’s artillery quite enjoyed themselves firing at us. I suggested to him that, if it was real business, we were in a very awkward position, but he didn’t mind. He thought his balloon was good enough for anything except to go down, and he didn’t intend to do that until the fighting for the day was over, two o’clock in the afternoon. And up in the air we stayed. As I had neither pipe nor tobacco and we had nothing to eat or drink with us, I was not sorry when we set foot on Mother Earth again. I think it was that night, if not the next, a Saturday night, that we received a message from the headquarters of the Duke telling us of the defeat of the Khalifa at Omdurman by the forces in Egypt under Kitchener. It was welcome news.
Everyone knows the plight our War Office was in re the supply of small arms ammunition at the beginning of the South African War. Early in 1899 I received two orders, large in their way, totalling some five million rounds, for the .303 magazine rifle, from Sydney and Melbourne. The rifle ammunition Mark V was then in use, and very good ammunition it was too. The introduction of Mark VI was under consideration, and there was a probability of its replacing Mark V at an early date. I had been watching with considerable interest the experiments that had been taking place with the Mark VI, and I was personally far from satisfied that it would be a success. I decided to supply the order with Mark V, notwithstanding my general instructions that all stores were to be of the latest up-to-date pattern introduced into the Service at home. As the first consignments of the Mark V were shipped, I notified the Victorian and New South Wales Governments of the steps I was taking. I did not hear anything further in the matter for some two or three months when, to my surprise, I received a cable from Victoria, asking me upon what grounds I was sending out Mark V ammunition and not Mark VI, which, they pointed out, they understood had been adopted at home. At the same time a member of one of the firms which were supplying the ammunition called and informed me that his firm had received an order direct from the Government of Victoria for two million rounds of Mark VI ammunition, requesting them to cease forwarding any more Mark V. I immediately cabled to Victoria that I was not satisfied with the Mark VI ammunition, that I expected it to be withdrawn at an early date, and that, if they chose to place orders direct with the contractors on their own, I would accept no responsibility of any kind in the matter. In the meantime, what was to be done with the still very large balance of Mark V ammunition which was ready for shipment? My friend, the member of the firm, was just as aware as I was that Mark VI ammunition which they had then begun to supply to the War Office was not by any means likely to prove satisfactory. He actually seemed rather pleased that the large balance of Mark V was now practically left on his hands and would be replaced by the Mark VI. As the inspection of the Mark VI would naturally take some considerable time before it could be passed and dispatched to Australia, there was no hurry, as far as I could see, to communicate further by cable with Victoria. I may mention that the Government of New South Wales had accepted the situation and were content to receive their regular supplies of Mark V, having accepted my suggestion.
Then my day came. The National Rifle Meeting was held in Scotland. I voyaged up to watch for myself. It was not long before serious complaints began to be made, not only as regards the actual results of the shooting on the targets, but, what was much more serious, the bursting of two or three barrels and the blowing out of several breech-blocks. I was quite satisfied and returned to London. Courts of Inquiry were ordered by the Government, but, what was more important, similar happenings occurred later at the Bisley Meeting. The Council immediately took up the matter with the Government. Result: Mark VI ammunition condemned. Then went a cable to Australia through the Press Association:
“Mark VI ammunition condemned by Government.—The information sent to the Colonies by the Inspector of Warlike Stores confidentially has proved correct.”
Next day I received the following from Melbourne: “Is the cable published here to-day with reference to Mark VI ammunition true? If so, please rescind as soon as possible the order for two million rounds placed with the contractors.” There was nothing more to be done but to try to induce the contractors to forgo their order for two million Mark VI and let us have the Mark V. I think it is to their credit to state that they at once met my wishes in this respect, and an awkward situation was saved. This happened only some two months before the declaration of war against South Africa. The War Office, having decided earlier in the year on the adoption of the Mark VI, had placed very large orders with the contractors, probably for some forty to fifty million rounds, and these orders had been, to a large extent, executed, while, naturally, the stocks of Mark V had been practically depleted. The result was that the War Office found itself in the critical position of entering upon a war with actually a shortage of rifle ammunition. It will be remembered that the Government of India came to the rescue.
I had now been in London over a year. The question of my return had not been raised. Kingston was still Premier, and my locum tenens, a Colonel Stuart, continued acting for me as Commandant in South Australia.