Wrangel is wrong, but he is frank. De Negrier is both frank and right in dismissing the steel save for occasions when "la panique saisit les troupes en désordre." Right, too, are the Americans.

Bernhardi’s book is a crushing refutation of Wrangel, and a vindication of de Negrier. Indeed, in his heart of hearts I believe he suspects his formula of balance to be only a counsel of perfection, for in the lines which immediately precede it he implies that only a leader of very rare genius will be capable of combining both systems. As for the men—silence. The formula, moreover, must be read in its context. At the moment he is in his fire-mood, addressing remarks on the “tactical conduct of dismounted actions” to a Cavalry of whose abysmal ignorance and incapacity in that branch of war he cannot speak too strongly. He is sweetening the pill to the refractory patient.

Our own soldiers refuse to follow Lord Roberts and de Negrier, and cannot officially say what Wrangel says, because there are still some memories of South Africa left, and Wrangel’s opinion is simply pre-South African opinion as embodied in the pre-war Manual. So they have taken Bernhardi’s formula (“Cavalry Training,” p. 187), add on their own account that “thorough perfection” in both weapons is necessary (Wrangel’s impossibility), and by an ambiguous mixture of contradictory counsels manage to save their face in the matter of fire while actually insinuating the full truth of Wrangel’s view as to the paramount importance of the steel. The formula of balance is sandwiched between two passages on the same page which reduce the idea of “balance” to a nullity, and which I must now repeat again. The first is:

“Squadrons must be able to attack on foot when the situation imperatively demands it.”

The second is:

“It must be accepted as a principle that the rifle, effective as it is, cannot replace the effect produced by the speed of the horse, the magnetism of the charge, and the terror of cold steel. For when opportunities for mounted action occur, these characteristics combine to inspire such dash, enthusiasm, and moral ascendency that Cavalry is rendered irresistible.”

And we may add that immediately before this latter passage comes another which suggests Wrangel’s idea that fire-action is mainly defensive. “Experience in war and peace teaches us that the average leader is only too ready to resort to dismounted action, which often results in acting defensively.” It is true that the compilers add that it is important to lay stress on offensive tactics for Cavalry, even when fighting on foot, but what chance has that little proviso when they are told in the next breath that dash comes from the steel?

That assertion is far more sweeping and positive than anything to be found in Bernhardi, who would stultify himself if he spoke in such a general way of the “imperative demands of the situation,” of the “defensive” function of the firearm, or of the “terror of cold steel.” His whole work is a demonstration, not only of the pressing importance of dash in aggressive fire-action, but of the fact that “even inferior” riflemen, unless in a state of abject panic, do not and need not have the smallest fear of the sword and lance, and to say in so many words that the only persons terrified by those weapons are the Cavalry themselves (who are also riflemen) is more than he could do. I have pointed out that he does make a belated attempt to define, at any rate inferentially, the function of the steel. “Cavalry Training” makes none. Hence “terror” is permissible.

Of course, our official drill-book, in spite of its struggles for compromise, cannot hide the old reductio ad absurdum. Here is its list of occasions (pp. 186, 187) which demand fire-action: (1) Enemy entrenched; (2) enemy occupying “broken or intersected ground” (e.g., most of England and much of Europe); (3) enemy’s convoy marching under escort; (4) enemy occupying extended position (in other words, the enemy in his normal position in all modern war); (5) covering a retreat; (6) enabling a scattered force to concentrate with a view to “decisive mounted action”; (7) in the case of numerical inferiority in Cavalry; to which we must add (8) (from p. 215) “occupying localities for defence”; (9) patrol work (where combat is necessary); and (10) (from p. 229) in pursuit, (where, following Bernhardi, the method is to be by fire, except in case of complete demoralization of the enemy). And yet, in the face of this exhaustive list, Cavalry are only to act by fire when the “situation imperatively demands it!” I think, perhaps, that of all the list No. (3) is the one which appeals most to the sense of humour—if it were a case for humour. It is the only unmistakable allusion to the Boer War in the whole handbook. Otherwise that war might never have been fought, for all the direct recognition it obtains. The idea is, I suppose, that reverses were specially associated with convoys, so that some special concession to fire is needed in that connection to lull the doubts of questioning minds. Unhappily the concession, if it is to be reconciled with the efficacy of the steel weapon at all, cannot possibly be expressed in intelligible language. Why in the world should “mounted attack” on a convoy involve abnormally “wide outflanking operations” (p. 188)? The escort, pinned more or less closely to a mass of transport, is, on the contrary, abnormally devoid of independent mobility, and abnormally open to direct attack at the will of the aggressor. And what is the meaning of this implied distinction between the “outflanking” character of a “mounted attack” and the direct character of a fire-attack? Cannot shock charges be direct, frontal? Observe the revenge which overtakes timid concession. Here is one more implicit betrayal of the steel, one more case of confusion between mobility and combat. Whether you attack the advance-guard, or rear-guard, or flank-guards of a convoy makes no difference to the weapon. If your shock charge is of any use, use it. And the bitter irony of it all is that it was in the attack upon convoys, or columns hampered by a large transport, that the Boers used the “mounted attack” with the most effect. But it was not the mounted attack meant by “Cavalry Training.” It was the rifle charge, as at Yzer Spruit, Kleinfontein, Vlakfontein, etc. (Chapter XI. above).

Bernhardi, in many other respects, is a sounder guide to the value of fire-action than “Cavalry Training.” He insists, for instance (p. 176), on the vital point that the firearm should be carried on the back, “as is the practice of all races of born horsemen,” not attached to the saddle, as our Cavalry carry it, and shows thereby that he is more alive than they are to the real spirit of fire. Although, regardless of consistency, he blurts out truths about fire which cut at the root of the steel theory, he generally succeeds in avoiding statements about steel which would nullify his conclusions about fire.