CONVOY DUTY
This is work for which a detachment of cavalry is frequently told off to do the advanced, flank, and rear guards. In order to save the horses, it will be found best to divide the respective forces and work en bondes, moving quickly over open ground, and getting into successive positions where cover is available. In each of these a rest, and possibly a mouthful of grass, will serve to keep the horses fresh.
Nothing is more annoying to a column commander, who has regard for his horses, than to see one of his mounted men using his horse as an easy-chair whilst delay takes place at some difficult crossing. Strict orders are necessary in this matter. Many a time have we seen an irascible commanding officer ride up behind one of these spectators and jerk him violently off his horse.
It may not be out of place here to say that an escort to a convoy should invariably be at least twice the strength of any force which is likely to attack it. The handicap of being tied to a convoy following a certain route and supplying detachments for advanced and flank guards and of fighting on ground of the enemy’s choosing, etc., necessitates this, if safety is desired. Small parties of horsemen should be sent on, wide of and parallel to the road, to get touch of the enemy; the principle of separating the rôle of information and security is thus adhered to.
CHAPTER XV
RAIDS
The very idea of a cavalry raid is attractive and carries with it a certain romance.
It is impossible to do otherwise than admire the boldness of the conception of Stuart’s raid in 1862, when, with 1200 men and two guns, he rode right round the Federal lines, alarmed McClellan, and caused him to withdraw troops to cover his line of cavalry and thus weaken his first line. Yet even this raid, brilliant as it was and tactically successful, is said to be strategically a mistake. For, to quote General Alexander’s American Civil War, it “seriously alarmed McClellan for his rear. But for it the probabilities are he would never have given the subject any thought, and he certainly would not have been prepared with a fleet of loaded transports on hand when he was, soon after, forced to change his base to Harrison’s landing on the James River.... On the whole, therefore, the éclat of our brilliant raid lost us much more than its results were worth. Where important strategy is on foot, too great care can scarcely be used to avoid making any such powerful suggestion to the enemy as resulted in this case.”
Similarly the raid in 1863, by the same general, had disastrous results for the Confederates. Lee was then preparing for his campaign north of the Potomac. Stuart proposed moving with the cavalry in between the Federal army and Washington, and rejoining the main army when north of the Potomac. Lee, unfortunately, sanctioned it, and Stuart set out on the 24th June, did some minor damage to the Federals, but lost Lee, not rejoining him till late in the afternoon of the 2nd July, the second day of the battle of Gettysburg. Had Lee had his cavalry with him, that campaign might have had a very different ending. Therefore, in this case, the timing of the raid was wrong, and of benefit only to the enemy.
The value of Gourko’s raid across the Balkans in July 1877, when in eight days he carried dismay into the heart of Turkey, destroyed parts of the railroad and telegraph on the principal lines, and gained a great deal of information as to Turkish movements, appears to be undoubted. His force, however, was not entirely a cavalry one.
Coming to a more recent date, in the Manchurian War, the Japanese, only a few days before the battle of Mukden, by means of an undertaking against the rear of the Russians, which was carried out by two Japanese squadrons (280 men), marching as quickly as possible by night and hiding by day, succeeded in reaching an important railway bridge 200 kilometres north of Tieh-ling and in rear of the Russians. The troops covering the bridge were surprised at night, and their attention was thus drawn away from the bridge, which a skilfully-led patrol succeeded in blowing up. The railway service was interrupted for several days. A regular panic set in among the Russian Headquarter Staff. The immediate result was that 8000 Russian troops were diverted for the defence of the line and were unable to take part in the decisive battle at Mukden: an instance of most admirable timing of a raid.
It is true that cavalry raids may disorganize the lines of communication “which in the case of large armies,” as Bernhardi says, “have increased in importance.” But, on the other hand, we must remember that well-organized lines of communication are now almost invariably railways. On these there is a most efficient engineer service, with a breakdown train and gang of trained road-layers and menders always ready. These are able to mend a railway in approximately the same time that it takes to break it up. It is only badly organized lines of communication which are really vulnerable,—though we must not forget that the blowing up of a French bridge near the frontier in 1870, during the siege of Paris, very nearly caused the siege to be raised.
The pages of De Brack’s Light Cavalry Outposts are full of instances of successful raids, those of which Curély was the hero being specially attractive and effective.[64] In our own knowledge are the raids of De Wet and others on our line of communication in South Africa, which entailed a large number of troops being allotted to the defence of the railway; whilst little less effective were the operations of our columns against the Boers when, hiding by day and riding by night, they swooped down upon the Boers and captured their herds of cattle and horses. The Boers suffered little inconvenience from those columns which had not recourse to methods combining speed with avoidance of observation, and with secrecy in their preparation.
All these operations are obviously those which are favoured by “conditions of sparsely-settled terrain and very partially-developed telegraphic communication, and few roads and railways,” and the success of many of the American raids forms no basis for the assumption, so often made, that equal results would attend their employment in Europe outside Russia.[65]
The other side of the question may be seen in some of the unsuccessful raids entered upon by both sides in the American War, when raids became “the fashion”—raids, which were not only unsuccessful, but which even had the effect of depriving their own side of their cavalry at a most important juncture, quite apart from the number of cavalry horses rendered useless.
A typical instance of this is seen in Wheeler’s raid on the Federal lines of communications. When beaten off at Dalton he made his way into East Tennessee; his subsequent operations in that region had no effect upon the fortune of the two armies battling round Atlanta. Hood, deprived of Wheeler’s cavalry—“the eyes of his army”—found himself in the dark as to Sherman’s movements. On the evening of the 27th he jumped hastily to the conclusion that Wheeler’s raid had been successful, and that Sherman’s army was retiring from lack of supplies to the other side of the Chattahoochee. For forty-eight hours he adhered to this strange delusion, and by that time the Federals had gained a position from which it was impossible to dislodge them.[66]
Quite without permanent result were the big raids by De Wet into the Cape Colony and by Botha into Natal, both of which caused the loss of many overridden horses, and had a bad moral effect on the Boers, who were hunted from pillar to post; but the attack on our mule transport in rear of the columns moving on Kimberley and Paardeberg was an excellent piece of work and far-reaching in its effect.
Again, the Russian raids against the Japanese were strangely unfortunate in their results, but it is probable that sufficient secrecy was not observed prior to these raids moving off.
Taking Mischenko’s raid or reconnaissance into Northern Korea early in the Russo-Japanese War as an instance, it is interesting to see the manner, first, in which it was met by the Japanese; second, in which it allowed itself to be distracted from the main object. This raid was sent to find out what force of Japanese was in front of the Russians, and, arriving at Chon Chou at 11 A.M., “tumbled upon” a town garrison, deployed five sotnias in all, keeping one in reserve, thus voluntarily renouncing its mobility to attack a town. The result might have been foretold. The force was held in front by two squadrons dismounted and attacked by one squadron mounted on the flank, meanwhile a Japanese infantry battalion is brought up at the double. Result: retirement of the Russians, reconnaissance practically valueless.
In the case of General Mischenko’s long ride to Yinkov with fifty-three sotnias of Cossacks, four commandos of mounted scouts, twenty-two guns, and four machine guns, the primary object of the raid, and a notable one, was to interrupt the junction of the Japanese troops, freed by the fall of Port Arthur, with those on the Shaho, a quite secondary objective being the stores at Yinkov. 1500 pack-horses accompanied the column. 30 kilometres were covered in two days. On the third day the garrisons of Hai-cheng (1500) and Ta-shih-chiao, somewhat larger (the distance between these towns being 20 miles), sufficed to turn the leader of 9000 cavalry from his first objective, and to send him towards Yinkov. Here he dismounted sixteen sotnias for a night attack, but, meeting with wire entanglements and a vigorous resistance, retired.
Nothing had been effected.
Rennenkampf’s reconnaissance on the 9th May to Kuan-tien-cheng. Force at his disposal one battalion, ten sotnias, and eight guns. We read that, making “two very trying marches,” he reaches Kuan-tien-cheng with six sotnias. “The remainder of the detachment had been left behind at various points on the line of communication, partly on account of the exhaustion of the men and horses, partly to secure its line of retreat. As the march had been carried out without any regard to the pace of the various arms, the detachment was completely scattered.” A Japanese force of 400 infantry left the town, but shortly returned reinforced by a battalion, which unexpectedly attacked and drove the Russians away. The result of the reconnaissance was nil. And so on.... Rennenkampf was indefatigable. But the work “though so fruitless had exhausted the sotnias, which were now considerably under strength, and most of the horses had sore backs,” and so it will always be. Those who have seen the state of men and horses after four, three, or even two nights in the saddle will not need assurance on this subject.
Von Pelet Narbonne puts down the general failure of Russian raids to the small value of the Cossacks, who were not trained in offensive dismounted action, nor possessed with a keen desire to use the sword. He then compares the method of the Japanese, whose tactics were more suited in his opinion to the intricate and mountainous nature of the country. They sent infantry with their cavalry, who carried out the unavoidable reconnaissance combat. This method certainly economized the cavalry, an arm in which the Japanese were very deficient. Again, the Japanese cavalry frequently met the Russian cavalry by dismounted fire from the mud walls of villages, and were mistaken by them for infantry.
What, then, are the general conclusions at which we arrive?—
1st. That big raids seldom have results which justify the loss and wear and tear of the horses and men.
2nd. That a raid must not be entered upon except with a special and adequate purpose and as a result of careful reconnaissance by spies and others.
3rd. That once entered upon, the leader must devote himself to carrying out his mission and not allow himself to be turned aside on any account whatever.
4th. That a small, swift, well-hidden raid on a line of communication made at a favourable moment may cause the detachment of a large number of troops, whose absence will be felt in the decisive battle.
5th. That raids against which the enemy has made preparations are purposeless, but are nevertheless often made by cavalry leaders, lest they should incur the reproach of having done nothing.
6th. That the first raids in a war are often successful.
7th. That a friendly country favours raids, and conversely an enemy’s country renders them difficult to the verge of impracticability.
8th. That cavalry should not be sent off on raids when required for action on a battlefield.
9th. That a raid is like any other detachment, i.e. if it succeeds in drawing away from the decisive point at the right time a stronger force than itself, it is justified; and therefore the chief point to consider in planning a raid is its timing.
CHAPTER XVI
THE TRAINING OF THE CAVALRY OFFICER
“However much thou art read in theory, if thou hast no practice thou art ignorant. He is neither a sage philosopher nor an acute divine, but a beast of burden with a load of books. How can that brainless head know or comprehend whether he carries on his back a library or bundle of faggots?”—Sadi, Gulistan, p. 273.
As each year passes it appears to be more difficult to get officers for the cavalry, consequently any attempt to state what is the best way to train them is always subject to the proviso of the old-time cookery-book, “First catch your hare.” We all know the type of officer required, but we are also aware how hard it is to get him. He has been described over and over again, and can be seen in any cavalry regiment; a man who combines an addiction to, and some knowledge of, field sports, involving horses, with sufficient intelligence to pass into Sandhurst. In order to catch this hare, mess expenses in cavalry have been reduced to a minimum. He is given chargers by Government; they are hired by him if used for other than military purposes, but otherwise they are not paid for. Uniform has been made less expensive. Finally, examinations have been relaxed, though certainly an increase of pay has not yet been tried. And still parents and guardians hesitate to send their sons into a service which affords a better training and discipline of mind, body, and manners for the first few years, than is available in any other profession.
Extravagances in the old days have frightened candidates for cavalry commissions away. The more irresponsible press write against the Cavalry.[67] Fewer country gentlemen can afford the requisite allowance to their sons.[68] Expenditure all round has increased, whilst incomes, at any rate those derived from land, have shrunk. More youngsters go abroad to the colonies. “How hardly shall the rich man enter” the barrack gate now, when so much more work is to be done![69] All honour to him when he does so, and sticks to his profession. Hard work, danger, adversity are the making of a man, and those who fear or shirk such are not likely to make good cavalry officers, or, for the matter of that, good citizens of the Empire. A short comparison of the life of the cavalry officer thirty to forty years ago and nowadays may elucidate this to some extent.
Then, as a rule, throughout the winter one parade per week, a horse parade on Saturday, took place. The officer who could afford to do so could hunt every day in the week as long as he went round his stables once during the day. Only the orderly officer (and often his belt was taken by the adjutant, or riding master, or a sergeant-major in the winter) remained in barracks. Sometimes there appeared in orders for Saturday: “Riding School for officers not hunting.” In the summer there were no manœuvres, and only in very exceptional cases was there brigade training. A regimental parade under the C.O. once a week. An adjutant’s drill (only officers junior to the adjutant being present) once a week. All training of men, and they were of longer service then, was done by the adjutant and regimental drill instructors; men and horses were handed over, theoretically ready for the ranks, to the troop officer. To sum up, then, the pay was nominal, and the enforced work was ditto.
Nowadays young officers begin work at daybreak and go on till midday, 1 o’clock, or perhaps till 3 P.M. The squadron officer is now training a succession of men for the Reserve. There is winter training, then squadron training, regimental, brigade, and possibly divisional training. The men are trained to a much higher standard, and they are trained now by the squadron officers and not by the adjutant and his staff.
The nation, supremely ignorant in regard to the detail of military matters, hardly appreciates the fact (i.) that nowadays a cavalry officer does at least twice as much work as he did formerly, and (ii.) that the cavalry officer not only devotes his life to a patriotic idea, but must also devote a large portion of his income, at least £200 to £300 a year, to the same purpose.[70] (iii.) The emoluments which he derives from the public purse are, if anything, less nowadays than a hundred years ago.
The old type of cavalry officer, who joined the service for the amusement to be derived from it, is scarcer; but still he is to be found, and he faces hard work cheerfully and well. Against the discouraging influences, and the worst of these is “worry” substituted for “work,” he has his esprit de corps and a fondness for the life, which is an open-air one, and in many respects an interesting one.
For the first few years or so of his service an excess of book knowledge is not required, but it is desirable that the young cavalry officer should be able to express himself clearly in words or on paper, and this he must gain by thinking clearly. Let us consider his duties in those first years, and then we shall see what to teach him. The principle has always been maintained that it is right to work him hard when he first joins, and later he can drop into the pace of the remainder. You must teach him to ride and to train a horse. A few officers can do this when they join, and think they are fit to pass out of the riding school at once. But this is not the case; they have next to learn to teach others. Again, he must learn to shoot. He must learn to groom and shoe a horse, and to apply simple remedies. He must learn the few main rules of tactics, reconnaissance, and scouting. He must learn cavalry pioneering. He must learn to use his personal weapon on foot and horseback. All these he must learn, not merely so that he is able to do them himself, but so that he may be able to instruct and be an example to others. He will be taught the care of his men’s health in barracks and on service. He may even be taught book-keeping, and he will certainly learn something of house economy on the mess committee.
But the high-spirited youngster whom we want, and who can leave the service when he wants to, must in some respects be treated like a blood horse, whom we feel we can guide, but cannot stop at a single stride’s notice, as we could a temperate old horse. We must preserve his verve and desire to take the initiative, even if it occasionally leads him to do wrong, when we should remember the great legal maxim, “If the heart is right,” and also our own youthful days.
The addiction to manly, and especially to rough and dangerous, field sports must be regarded as an immense asset towards efficiency for war. Time spent in the chase, “the image of war,” must not be regarded as so many hours less given to his employer by the cavalry officer. We particularly want the hunting breed of man, because he goes into danger for the love of it.[71] He must also be able to perform any of the diverse duties which he may be called on to carry out on service, such as to fortify a village, construct a pontoon, court-martial a prisoner, and so on.
It is very desirable that he should have as much as possible practically taught to him. A knowledge of the tactics of the other arms should be gained thus, and we are responsible for giving the opportunities, since this will not and cannot be learnt theoretically; verb. sap. Officers, faute de mieux, should be sent to infantry camps and artillery practice camps, not to gun and company drill. This attachment to other arms is carried out by some nations, and especially France, to a far greater extent than in our service. It is invaluable in breaking down the watertight compartment system of training, and in establishing a closer union of arms.
The elements of strategy should also be taught. A few good lectures by an officer who has a taste for this will teach more than a six months’ poring over books, for which during his first three years a young officer has little time to spare. At the same time the genuine soldier cannot but be interested in questions of strategy. A knowledge of it gives an entirely new aspect to what might otherwise appear rather dull history.
Then you may say that after three years of this “our young officer is complete and a valuable asset”?
“Far from it.”
“But what more can be asked of him? This covers the complete syllabus, appendices, etc., etc.”
“There is one thing without which all this is as ‘that which profiteth not.’”
“And that is?”
“He must have a strong sense of DUTY, without which he is ‘as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal.’”
Now man is not born with a sense of duty (though the most riotous young hound often becomes the best in the pack); it has to be taught; it has to be learnt practically as well as theoretically; it has to be borne in on him by precept and example as an excellent, a noble and a desirable thing, a thing in which to glory. What is it? The abnegation of self, the working for the good of all, in foro conscientiae, and, above all, without making difficulties.
The French Manuel du gradé de cavalerie, p. 12, gives the following definition: “Le dévouement, le sentiment généreux qui pousse l’homme à faire le sacrifice de sa vie pour le salut de la patrie et de ses semblables.”
He must learn that the “superiority which disciplined soldiers show over undisciplined masses is primarily the consequence of the confidence which each has in his comrades” (Von der Goltz, Nation in Arms, p. 162).
The young officer begins by having a pride in his troop, squadron, and regiment, by trying by his own individual exertions first to make himself fit to lead and instruct, and next to make his own unit better than others. If he does not set the example of being better than others, he will not render much help to the men serving under him. They will look to him, admiring what is good in him and despising what is bad, summing him up, weighing him in mind, if not in words, as they see him.[72] And the eyes of a regiment see everything. He must be a very acute dissembler who can escape the five hundred pairs of eyes which watch him at every turn. This alone is a good training for any man. Very much indeed naturally depends on the influences under which an officer falls on joining a regiment.
A strict but just commanding officer, who works, but does not worry, the men under him, makes not only a good regiment, but a regiment which will fight well in war, whilst a slack and indulgent commanding officer, even if just, will soon lessen a regiment’s discipline to an extent which will render it of little value in war. In peace, to be sure, no one takes much notice of this fact, but in war the slack commanding officer becomes an object of detestation to all concerned, and he invariably “lets in” every one. He is most despised by the very men whom he tries to save from dangers. It is a curious fact in human nature that usually they think he is doing this because he himself is afraid.
If, however, there are altogether some four or five really good officers of various ranks in a regiment, their influence and peace-activity will save the regiment from much that even a slack commanding officer can do to its detriment. All young officers fall under their influence, and there remains a substratum of rock under the shifting sands.
Von der Goltz says (Nation in Arms, p. 144): “Every regiment brings into the field a certain character of its own.” That character depends on its officers—often on one officer long since dead and gone. In one regiment the shoeing was remarkably good; it transpired that a former colonel, a martinet dead thirty years before, used to “break” the farrier if a horse lost a shoe in the field.
With his duties and his sports, for the first two or three years in a good regiment, the subaltern has no time to think, and if he is the right man in the right place, enjoys himself thoroughly.
Let us now hark forrard to the full-fledged cavalry officer of three to seven years’ service who is learning to command a squadron, and may find himself doing so often enough. He has now time to look round, and much depends again on the tone of the regiment and the man himself whether he takes to his profession seriously or “soldiers” on to pass the time pleasantly. He may aspire to be a staff officer, or a good regimental officer, or may have no aspirations.
With the staff officer we are not concerned; what we are now considering is, What process will render the regimental cavalry officer of most value to the service? Constant drills and parades will not do so; they belong to the past. To put first spit and polish and show parades is a thing of the past in nearly all minds. But this must not be taken to mean that drill is not necessary. Those who have led in war drilled and undrilled men aver, with reason, that smooth, easy working and confident leading only exist where the men have been carefully drilled. A good deal can be done at a slow, go-as-you-please pace with semi-drilled intelligent men, but they have no chance, especially in cases of emergency, against men of lower intelligence, well trained by the officer who leads them. Drill in the evolutions necessary in the field is consequently essential to a high standard of fighting ability. To drill well largely resolves itself into the power to observe and correct faults in such a way that the impression remains. The experienced drill and the coach of a racing eight know by experience that, owing to the imperfections of man’s nature, they are bound to meet with certain faults which will have an unsteadying and deterrent effect on the squadron’s or boat’s progress. They address themselves to the correction of these characteristic faults, explaining their reasons, often affecting decorative, if forceful epithets, similes, and expressions, just as a preacher or orator does, in order to give point and pungency to his discourse and to make it remembered. Von Schmidt in his Cavalry Instructions usually details at the end of each paragraph bearing on an evolution or practice their characteristic faults, and the cause, effect, and cure of these. Primed with a knowledge of these, and possessed of some small power of explanation, the squadron or troop officer will soon make an astonishing difference in his command’s power of evolution. Without them, he too often gropes in the dark.
What we would suggest, then, is to encourage this officer (i.) constantly to practise the situations in which he and his men may find themselves in war, and (ii.) to train and exercise his command so that it is difficult for circumstances to arise of which they have not had some previous experience;[73] (iii.) to practise giving short verbal orders in the saddle in proper form (vide F.S.R., Part I.) till it becomes a second nature, both in himself to give orders thus, and his command to place those orders in their mind and act upon them in a logical sequence; (iv.) to become by practice a person of resource, and to train his men so that they become “handy men,” e.g. able to get a waggon up and down a steep slope, or improvise rafts, etc., or to place a farm in a state of defence, and to do so quietly and in an orderly manner; (v.) to be himself a capable master of his weapons, and able to instruct intelligently; (vi.) to know the situations in which a battle on a large scale may place him, and to be able to foresee what are the probable opportunities of which he may have to take advantage, and so to train his men that they will act with intelligence in such cases.[74]
Here we must pause whilst we make it plain that the really stupid man, who has no imagination, makes a very bad officer for training purposes, because in peace-time he is quite unable to picture to himself what does happen in an action. The same unfortunate trait makes him a bad leader in war, because he is unable to picture what the enemy will most probably do in certain cases. In the cavalry this type of officer has no place, even in the lower ranks, because the cavalry officer so frequently has to act by himself, and then the fate of an army may be dependent on what he sees, or on the information which he sifts and sends into the chief. As an infantry officer of the same rank he is more under the eyes of a commanding officer.
What, then, are the conclusions at which we arrive?
1. That we draw on a class who have not been used to much brain work.
2. That the young officer should be for choice country bred, fond of sport, a “trier,” and must have some private income.
3. That now he works much harder than he used to do, at first especially; but the work is, or ought to be, congenial work. His pay is the same as when he did little or no work in peace-time. So he is a practical patriot.
4. That his work consists largely of teaching others.
5. That many of the attributes which are most desirable, can be tested by no written examination.
6. That to recognize and do his duty is one of these. As regards this, much depends on his surroundings in the regiment which he joins.
7. That a cavalry officer as he gets up to three to seven years’ service, though he requires little book learning, requires fairly wide practical knowledge, also considerable powers of imagination; without these, his abilities for training his men and for leading them in war are likely to be defective.
8. Also that the main point which he must regard in all his training is not only, “Is this a situation in which my command may find itself in war?” but also, “Is there any situation in war in which my command is not practised?”
CHAPTER XVII
THE TRAINING OF THE CAVALRY OFFICER (continued)
... “ignorance is the curse of God,
Knowledge the wing wherewith we fly to heaven.”
Shakespeare.
“War is a business and must be learned like any other profession.”—Napoleon.
The attributes which a cavalry officer of the rank of squadron leader and upwards may to advantage possess are so many as to defy enumeration; some of them really possessed in perfection are so rare and valuable that in war they may even counterbalance the fact that their owner is barely able to read or write.
It was not without reason that Napoleon said of Ney: “When a man is as brave as he is, he is worth his weight in diamonds.”
To cavalry officers of all others are the reflections of Von der Goltz applicable, when he says: “Restless activity on the part of the general is the first condition of connected and rapid action in war”; and then he details the weakening of troops exposed to hardships, “exertion, and privations of all kinds, fatiguing marches, and wet nights in bivouac, cheerfully endured for a short time, but not for months together. They damp martial ardour considerably. A few privileged natures escape the effect of such conditions, but not so the mass of men.”
To the officer it is well that it should be known that, as war goes on, he may expect to find himself weakening, but, as with any other disease, forewarned is forearmed.
It is a duty to his country for a cavalry officer in peace-time to take such exercise in the available sports of hunting, pig-sticking, polo, big-game shooting, and other exercises as will keep muscles and lungs in condition and training, and his nerves in order. The cavalry officer, and for that matter the general and staff officer, who seldom gets on a horse in peace-time, will not suddenly change his nature in war; on the contrary, the enforced exercise will knock him up. Long days in the saddle, and nights spent on the outpost line with an insufficiency of food, the constant strain of vigilance will tell on most men, in fact in some degree on all men. But the officer who knows beforehand that he may expect his initiative, firmness, zeal, and love for action to evaporate somewhat after some months or even weeks of campaigning will be on the look-out. He will school his mind and countenance in cheerfulness and lightheartedness before his subordinates:
Jog on, jog on, the footpath way,
And merrily hent the stile-a;
A merry heart goes all the day,
Your sad tires in a mile-a.
Winter’s Tale, iv. 3.
He will practise himself in firmly repressing all grumbling and cynicism, in assiduously performing all details of duty, and in constantly caring for the welfare of his men and horses. “Such independent persons,” says Emil Reich, “have long since learnt to stand adversity, to be, as the saying is, ‘good losers.’ This has given England her peculiar tone, her stamina, her power in adversity.”[75] With such all will go well, for war is the region of reality in which there is no place for shams; but woe betide the regiment where the senior officers set an example of cynicism, grumbling, neglect of duty, want of zeal; these faults become exaggerated in their subordinates till they result in the worst military crimes and in the disgrace of the regiment, by a state of indiscipline and neglect of duty which only the strongest measures can put right.[76]
Whatever the value of a senior officer of cavalry from the point of view of courage, horsemanship, resolution, and bodily fitness for a campaign, there are other points to which he should devote attention. Von Bernhardi (p. 288 of Cavalry in Future Wars) says:
A comprehensive military education, and at least a general grasp of the principles of higher strategy, are essentials for every reconnoitring officer.
Now a field officer of cavalry may find himself at any time thrown on his own resources, perhaps cut off from his base, many miles from superior authority and with several squadrons at his disposal. His action, its direction and scope, and the information gained or missed may have the most marked effect on the course of the operations.
Again, at any period in an engagement the moment for action may arise; will then an officer, who is not trained in peace-time to know his duty, and to act on his own initiative, have the nerve “to go in,” without waiting for the order which nearly always comes too late? Settled convictions as to his duty,[77] acquired by previous practice and study of similar situations in peace, will nerve him to a correct interpretation of his duty, which may or may not be to charge. He will remember what was said of so-and-so who did or did not “go in.” He must be able to await a favourable opportunity in cold-blooded calm; and the time for deliberation once over, he must possess the cool daring to throw relentlessly all his available forces into battle.[78]
About the end of the Boer War an officer was heard to say: “I only learnt one thing at a garrison class which I attended. In a rearguard action my instructor told me to go lightly out of two positions and then let the enemy have it hot at the third one, when they came on with confidence and without discretion. That tip has been more useful to me than anything else I ever learnt, and has pulled me through again and again.”
But besides this a great deal is now to be learnt, and many ideas gained from the many excellent military works which are translated into English from other languages. Thirty years ago, beyond Von Schmidt and De Brack (certainly the best of their kind), few foreign works on tactics and the more recent wars had been translated. Nowadays four are translated where one was formerly. These give a better idea of the varied rôle of cavalry on a battlefield; we get a little farther than the drill of a squadron or regiment; we can see laid bare the faults of our cavalry and of their direction in South Africa, or what was noticed by various military attachés as regards the shortcomings of cavalry in the Manchurian or other campaigns. These, read and noted in an intelligent fashion, and more especially if later discussed amongst the officers of a regiment in their application to the work of training a regiment, are of great value. Perhaps their principal value is that they enable officers to lay out plans of action for emergencies, to get what Langlois calls a doctrine.[79] “Without a doctrine,” he says, “text-books are of little avail. Better a doctrine without text-books than text-books without a doctrine, for the former was the case in Napoleon’s time.”
And what was Napoleon’s doctrine? Did not Napoleon beyond all others study moral in its application to the training of officers and men, and to the winning of battles? We see it in his selection of his generals. Ney began as a leader of partisan forces. Massena was the head of a band of smugglers. Again, we may note it in the selection of his staff officers and A.D.C.’s of whom he asked (1st): Is he lucky? and (2nd): Is he enterprising? It is evident in his wise distribution of rewards; “I want blood, not ink,” he remarked to a commanding officer who had put forward his quartermaster for a decoration. To another, of whom he had asked the character of a man who was claiming a reward for well-known acts of bravery, when the reply was that the man was a “drunkard and a thief,” he said, “Bah, blood washes all that away.” We see, then, that his doctrine was that the man who will shed his blood is the rarest and most valuable asset in war; and so he, the great leader and organizer of armies, put it before all others, and thus he made it the “fashion.” No doubt Napoleon could have made “ink” the fashion, had he thought it desirable to do so. Further, he decorated men on the field of battle, bearing in mind the maxim: “Bis dat qui cito dat.” Any senior officer may imitate this excellent practice, by putting in his orders, regimental, brigade or otherwise, a notice of an “Act of Courage,” etc. If this is done the same evening it has a great effect.
That the Japanese thought of this is evidenced by the fact that repeatedly in the orders of the day, and in the proclamations of the army commanders and of the commander-in-chief, there were references to the excellent information and reports which reached them from reconnoitring detachments and patrols, and on one occasion Marshal Oyama categorically stated that without the help which had been afforded him by the cavalry, he would have been groping in the dark in the measures he was undertaking.[80]
Those who neglect to think about these matters soon wear out the patience of the bravest men.[81] De Brack writes:—
Reward, then, above all things the courage of him who is first in the mêlée, who delivers his blows with coolness and certainty, who is last in a retreat, who rescues his officers, his comrades, who captures a standard, who recaptures artillery, who is never dismayed by bad luck, and is always ready and willing.... There are several kinds of courage, but it is courage of the daring and impetuous kind which wins battles.
Our text-books have had little to say about moral, and we were apt to take it for granted that all is for the best in the best of all possible armies, so long has the question been overlooked. But is that wise? Should we not know why one regiment will take a loss of 50 per cent and “go in” next day again cheerfully, while another loses 10 per cent, and does not want any more fighting?
Is it not part of the training of the senior officers of cavalry that they should know the nature of the infantry combat, that they should grasp the consumption of reserves and the gradual moral degradation of the enemy’s infantry, that they should have studied works such as Colonel Ardant du Picq’s Études du Combat, which furnish the most thorough and complete dissection of moral in war?
In a note to one of his chapters on the value of discipline, Ardant du Picq relates how in the eighteenth century four British captains “stood off” when signalled to for help in an attack about to be made by their admiral. The latter won his fight, but was mortally wounded. He, however, sent for the four captains, court-martialled them and had three hanged at the yard-arm, and the fourth cashiered before he himself died.
Every leader should know how narrow is the path which he will tread when in command of troops in a fight. How essential it is, then, in cricket parlance to “give no chances.” And it is a great mistake for young officers to be left in ignorance of the fact that a good fighting regiment, battery or battalion, yes, and brigade or division, can only exist where there is a high standard of moral and a thorough mutual understanding that every one will, and must, play the game, be the risk, difficulty, or odium what it may.
Polo players will tell you that one selfish player will ruin a team. This is ten times more true in war, where they will see the selfish polo player skulk, run away, or let in his commanding officer and the army in the very first fight he gets into. And cavalry officers of all ranks must learn in peace that it is only by practising at all times broad-minded comradeship not only in their own corps and arm, but with the other arms, that victory in the field can be ensured. Let them read and ponder on what a French general says of our army in South Africa:—
Each arm acted on its own.... This comradeship can only be fostered by daily intercourse in peace.... In England it exists neither between the different arms nor between one battalion and another.... Good fellowship in the fight can only be produced by good fellowship in time of peace, and the latter results from a life in common.[82]
This ideal is apparently realized in the Japanese army, where, it is said, “there are no regiments that have a reputation or a history which is not that of the whole army. Just as there are no crack corps, so there is no crack arm. The pay and standard of education and living of cavalry officers are the same as those of other branches of the service.”
Our conclusions then must be:—
1. That courage and activity are the most valuable attributes in the field.
2. That these may wane when the body is exposed to unaccustomed wear and tear, unless this is foreseen and guarded against.
3. That habits of decision in tactical situations must be acquired by practice in peace-time.
4. That a doctrine permeating all ranks is essential to success in war.
5. The doctrine is “The Unison of Arms and the Resolute Offensive.”
CHAPTER XVIII
THE TRAINING OF A SQUADRON
“Soignez les détails, ils ne sont pas sans gloire; c’est le premier pas qui mène à la victoire.”—Frederick the Great.
Pages 104 to 142, Cavalry Training, are devoted to the training of the troop and squadron, and leave little to be desired as far as they take us. But those who wish to study the matter more fully, and to learn some of the “whys and wherefores,” should read Instructions for Cavalry, by the Prussian General Von Schmidt, of whom it was said, “No man exercised so great an influence for good on our arm since the Great King.” His theory was that “everything that is dull, cannot be easily understood or is uninteresting must disappear; the cavalry soldier has less need of this than any one. With such instruction he is quite useless, for to him more than to any one else are freshness, life, activity, mental quickness and vivacity necessary.”[83] But most valuable are the glimpses which the book affords us of the Great King (Frederick) in his rôle as a trainer of cavalry. How thoroughly he “meant business,” and how sternly any weakening, wavering, or indiscipline was dealt with under that resolute autocrat, when not only an army but a nation was “in the making,” may be seen from the following:—
It was an old and strict order of Frederick the Great that no cavalry officer should allow himself to be attacked at the halt; whoever does it should be cashiered.[84]
In the cavalry of Frederick the Great the squadron leader was authorized to sabre any éclaireur met riding at random across the front.[85]
Elliot mentions a further inspiriting regulation:—
If it is found that any soldier is not doing his duty, or is wishing to fly, the first officer or sub-officer will pass his sword through his body.
Frederick the Great, familiar with war, readily grasped the fact that the military discipline necessary in order to train men in the highest degree for the act of war must be stern and inexorable. No bank holiday, please-do-as-you-are-told soldiering for him. He knew what he wanted, and that time was limited.
On Sundays after divine service the men shall mount, as His Majesty considers it of the highest importance for the preservation of the horse that he should be ridden every day. The horses will then always be in wind, will not be stiff in the legs, and not get too fat. This His Majesty has found to be the case with his own horses. He desires to have horses in working condition, and does not care so much that they should be fat as that they should be sound and fit to march and stand fatigue.[86]
It must not be imagined that every officer who rides at its head can train or lead a squadron. Those who can do both in perfection are few and far between. An apprenticeship of several years under various good leaders, added to natural ability, good horsemanship, an eye for country, a thorough sympathy with both his men and horses, are a few of the talents required to make a good squadron leader. But if a regiment is so fortunate as to possess even one good squadron leader, there will soon be found, especially among the junior officers, many to imitate him, and thus one good squadron leader makes many.
“A,” the good squadron leader, is easily recognized in the field; he rides well away from his squadron, confident that they will obey his word or signal; his squadron know his ruses and plans, and move smoothly, ready to act at the indicated speed in any direction signalled by him. They are led covered from view,[87] duly avoiding or overcoming obstacles, quietly picking their way; the leader is now far to the front, with his eye on the enemy; his second in command passes any signals which are made. Suddenly pace is increased, and the squadron is galloping along under the crest of the hill, the cover which they know without an order he wishes them to utilize; then the troops wheel into line, “direction the enemy”; a defensive flank is dropped back, or an offensive flank pushed up; whilst the enemy’s leader, taken by surprise, is making up his mind, A’s squadron has drawn swords and is upon him with a mighty cheer.
“B,” the indifferent squadron leader, nervously and fretfully jobbing his horse in the mouth, rides near his squadron, at which he constantly looks back to see if the men have not already got out of dressing or committed some fault. Querulously addressing his second in command or sergeant major, he asks some foolish question; already he wants some one to lean on. His squadron moves round from behind some cover, where he has unwisely placed it, at an uneven pace, his ill-bitted horses tossing their heads in pain. Now he executes some movement; but before it is completed, he has given another order to “form squadron,” which formation he forthwith regards with disapprobation from a flank and at some 20 yards from his squadron. He has no eyes for the enemy; two patrols have been sent out who ought to inform him. He gets the information right enough, but riding, as he is, near his squadron, which is walking now, he has barely time to give an order to increase the pace and then “left shoulder” towards the enemy, who are getting to one flank, before he notices his swords are not drawn. To get this done increases the confusion in his squadron.
But enough has been said to show the difference in cavalry leaders. In a cavalry engagement A’s squadron will beat B’s nineteen times out of twenty. B, poor fellow, is a danger to the State, and generally not happy in his position. No man likes work which he performs indifferently. Will this kind of leader ever charge unless he receives a direct order to do so, and even then will it be well done?
Take it all round, any officer who is up to the business of efficiently training and leading a squadron must possess qualities which would have rendered his career a successful one in any walk of life. It is impossible to enumerate the hundred and one cares, anxieties, and responsibilities which beset a squadron commander. But it is a good thing to mention what he should regard as his guiding stars. They are:—
1. Efficiency for war in men and horses.
2. Avoidance of mere samples of efficiency.
3. Constant steps taken to make the soldiers confident in their power to use their weapons with deadly effect.
4. To make every trooper self-reliant in danger or unusual circumstances, especially when alone.
5. To cultivate the offensive spirit and a determination to get at the enemy somehow.
1. Efficiency for war in men and horses. Men not worked hard in peace-time are quite useless in war, where they have the added privation of want of food and sleep. Active service is quite unlike peace service; in the latter a man often spends but an hour or two in the open and most of the rest of the day in grooming and cleaning up; these duties are, generally speaking, a pure waste of time, as far as cavalry is concerned, in war. Too much of this barrack-square soldiering is apt to unfit men and make them slack and tired after a long day’s work, of which gillies, herdsmen, and keepers would think nothing. Few officers are knowledgeable enough to be able to discern the difference between fit, hard horses and poor horses. Looking at the horse sideways on, the ribs may easily deceive one, but following a horse it is much more easily seen to which category he belongs. The poor horse is split up and hollow in the region of the muscles lying alongside the backbone. Feeling the neck is not a safe criterion—big neck muscles may merely mean that the horse has been fed on the ground; the appearance of the coat is also fallacious. A sharp canter of a mile should, however, furnish a good test, as the blowing and snorting of an untrained squadron and a soapy lather instead of a clear watery sweat at once tell their tale.
2. It is a common but most pernicious practice, instead of making the effort to train all men in the squadron up to a certain standard of knowledge and ability, to take some of the smart men and make them into “show” teams. It is obviously flat-catching to have a prize team of ten marksmen, whilst the rest of the squadron are indifferent rifle shots. A man who wins prizes year after year at tournaments and assaults-at-arms is not of value unless he teaches other men. Often he does not do this for fear they should come on, “until at last the old man was beaten by the boy.” The best, though perhaps not the most showy, squadrons are those in which there is a recognized standard of efficiency in every exercise and attainment, below which no man is allowed to fall. The story is told of an inspector-general of cavalry of past days, that, after the usual inspection, the commanding officer at luncheon said to him, “I should like you to see my regiment tent-pegging.” “Certainly,” was the reply. Arrived on the maidan, about forty men had paraded. “But,” said the I.G.C., “you asked me to come and see your regiment tent-peg, and I wish to do so.” The regiment was forthwith paraded, and the first squadron’s exhibition was quite sufficient to expose the fallacy of “samples.”
3. See under heading “[the personal weapon]” in chapter on [Training of the Man].
4. Self-reliance may be gained by giving the individual various tasks to carry out by himself and on his own initiative. The return for this form of “casting the bread on the waters” is not immediate, but directly the regiment goes on manœuvres or on service, the result between a squadron trained on this system and one where this is not done is most marked.
The squadron in which every man can read a map and orient himself (and this is now not exceptional) moves with perfect confidence on the line marked out for it, and if “held up” in front at once proceeds to find a way round or through. Squadrons trained to this degree may be confidently expected to give great results when employed with independent cavalry or as contact squadrons.
From this it will be seen that the education of the modern working classes has been exploited and improved upon to a very high degree in the cavalry squadron and regimental school. Cavalry work, which would have been a severe test of map-reading[88] and troop-leading to a subaltern officer of cavalry thirty-five years ago, is now within the powers of every sergeant and corporal, and most of the men. To attain this has meant hard work for the regimental officer, and it is doubtful, if the work had not been largely delegated to the section leader, and thereby a proper chain of responsibility established, whether such progress would have been made.
Competitions between sections and troops, the former for choice, work great things in a squadron. If the minds of sixteen section leaders are all at work to find out the best way to train a recruit in various exercises, to feed a horse to the best advantage with the forage available, to get the best shooting average, and so on, it is obvious that the squadron leader has a good chance of disseminating his knowledge, when found out, through his squadron, whilst an interest is given to the work which is perfectly invaluable. Certainly men, who have to go through four or five months’ hot weather in the plains of India with the thermometer occasionally at 115° in the verandah, want these mental exercises and interests just as they want games of hockey, cricket, and football in the evening to keep them sound in wind, limb, and mind.
In every respect competition is a healthy lever in training; only quite recently a squadron which, mirabile dictu, stopped all smoking for some weeks before shooting, were successful in winning an army rifle competition. Above all things, it acts in putting a stop to the waste of time which is so frequent an occurrence, where there is no spur to prevent it. It is distressing to see a troop of men and horses standing in line, whilst one individual goes through some exercise, or jumps some fences; a clever squadron leader will never permit this, he will point out to the troop or section leader that the remainder would be much better occupied in “suppling” their horses, or making cuts and points, till their turn arrived:[89] and that there is no reason why they should not light a pipe meanwhile. These amenities make things go easier.
Again, when on the march, or going to or returning from a field day, by means of judging distance on prominent objects (to be checked afterwards from the map), or by noticing the features of the country and subsequently answering questions on them, or by guessing what is on the other side of a hill, habits of observation which are invaluable in a cavalryman may be inculcated. This last is a capital exercise, and one which the Duke of Wellington practised. It is related that he was posting with a friend, and they passed the time in guessing what was behind the next hill. His friend remarked how often he was right in his guesses. Wellington replied, “Well, it is what I have been practising all my life.” This instruction is best delegated to section leaders, since a squadron, or even troop, is too unwieldy for this kind of education, which is specially one which should aim at bringing the slower and more stupid men up to a good level. The Germans rightly lay the greatest stress on the fact that collective perfection is only attainable by individual excellence, and this can only be obtained by individual instruction.
It is not in the brigade nor even in the regiment that dismounted work can be taught, but it is there that the effects can be seen. It is in the troop and the squadron that men should be taught to be quick, not hurried, in getting on and off their horses, and it must be done without the old-fashioned caution in the navy, “Five-and-twenty for the last man up the rigging.”
A brigade is manœuvring against an enemy; a house, a garden, a clump of trees is seen, which, if seized and held by rifle fire, will prove a most valuable pivot of manœuvre. A squadron is ordered to seize it. Now is the time to see whether men have been taught their work in the squadron. Are they awkward in getting off their horses? Is there delay in handing over the horses to the Nos. 3? Is there uncertainty what to do with the lances? Are proper precautions taken? If the men have been well taught, they will be ready to meet with fire the opposing squadrons sent to seize it. And further, when the meeting between the brigades takes place, a well-trained squadron will have had time to mount again, and will be on the spot to throw in a flank attack, which may decide the fight. The cavalryman must learn that never is the difference between cavalry and infantry to be observed more than when cavalry are acting dismounted.
A whole brigade may have to act dismounted. One not trained in the work will leave its horses behind and become inferior infantry. If the squadron training has been well done, they will act like a swarm of bees, trying here, trying there, everywhere moral and movement, till the weak spot is discovered; and then the rush will be made with an irresistible force in the firing line, and no slow pushing up of supports and reserves.
We do not wish to see cavalry always getting off their horses and trying everywhere to shoot their enemy out of each bit of difficult ground, but neither do we wish to see a regiment or brigade sitting helplessly in mass with an infantry or cavalry patrol holding a defile in front of them, unable to turn them out because the ground prevents them galloping at it. Von Bernhardi says:[90]
Moreover, in the power of holding the balance correctly between fire and shock, and in the training of the former never to allow the troops to lose confidence in the latter, lies the real essence of the cavalry spirit. This, whether it be in the working out of some great strategical design, or in joining hands with the other arms to obtain by united fire action some common purpose, implies a balance of judgment and absence of prejudice of the rarest occurrence in normal natures.
The practical problems, which invariably follow upon contact with the enemy, placed before his subalterns, unexpectedly for choice, by means of flags or real troops, and their proposed solutions, actually carried out, and then followed by a discussion, constitute the best and most useful work done by a squadron leader. If his imagination fails him, he must read up instances. Nor should he forget to give them problems which are what would be called unfair in a test examination, because the odds are too great, or the situation too difficult. He can and should explain this later, coram populo, but meantime it is just such problems which come to try the cavalry officer most highly. For if he is doing his duty he must constantly find himself in scrapes, and what our ancestors called “outfalls,” in which the life and liberty of his men, and more, victory and honour, depend on his action. Often enough a rapid dispersal with a prearranged rendezvous is the only rational course and alternative to defeat or heavy and useless loss. Again, a bold front shown or a feint at attack may give time to warn others or to get to cover.
These problems come as too much of a surprise in war for the ordinary individual, unless he has acquired character and a large degree of confidence by frequent exercises in peace-time such as those indicated above. But, thus equipped, and steeled, as it were, by a doctrine of resolution, the officer or non-commissioned officer will perhaps call to his mind some saying such as “a mounted man and a shower of rain can get through anywhere.” In an instant he has drawn swords, indicated, first, the line of attack, and second, the rendezvous after dispersal, then with a cheer or view-holloa he goes at them. His bold and rapid course of action pulls him through with little or no loss.[91] The Japanese Cavalry Training, p. 57, says:—
From commander to privates all cavalry soldiers must be accustomed to act on their own initiative throughout the various trainings and instruction, and in all cases should observe the following rule:
Attack—but do not be attacked.
Problems can be found in the support of mounted attacks by fire, dismounted attacks, rearguard actions, the defence or attack of positions taken up in farms or kopjes by flankguards or rearguards, feints made to draw the enemy or distract his attention, the precautions necessary at a halt to water or when in bivouac, the scouting of an enemy’s outpost line or in getting into a position before dawn, the passage of obstacles and defiles, and so on. Always remember to vary the ground, conceal the enemy’s numbers, and insist on decisive action. In practice, in cavalry matters, the wrong action taken in a resolute fashion is sometimes preferable to right action arrived at after vast consideration.
The reflection on our British cavalry made, we believe, by a cavalry officer, that it was well drilled but badly instructed for war in 1899, appears to be a genuine and well-founded one. How to escape it in future must be our squadron leaders’ chief concern. Napoleon said: “It is not my genius that suddenly reveals to me, in secret, what I should say or do in an unforeseen circumstance. It is reflection, it is meditation. I always work at dinner, at the theatre; at night I wake up to work.”
Above all, let us study in our instruction how best to make moral go hand-in-hand with method; without this what army can do great things? Have not civilization, education (conducted on our own lines), the insidious lessening of animus all conspired against our soldier’s moral in war? How much simpler and more effective was the modus operandi of the Zulu Impis clearly enunciated in their war chant, “If we go forward we conquer, if we go back we die”; their ruler invariably putting to death all who returned from an unsuccessful expedition.