Of the Italian Expeditionary Force, which was not numerically very strong, I saw little; but all spoke well of them. The famous Bersagliere, the cocks’ plumes fluttering gaily in their tropical helmets, were smart, sturdy soldiers.
I regret never having had an opportunity of seeing the contingent which Holland, not to be outdone by the other European Powers, despatched to the East. This nation was also determined to show its power to the world. So a Dutch Expeditionary Corps was equipped and sent out. It consisted of a sergeant and ten men.
The Indian Field Force was a revelation to Europe. Friend and foe realised for the first time that in the Indian army England has a reserve of immense value. While our Continental rivals fancied that our hands were tied by the South African war, and that we could take no part in the Chinese complication, they were startled to see how, without moving a soldier from Great Britain, we could put into the field in the farthest quarter of the globe a force equal to any and superior to most. It was mobilised and despatched speedily and without a hitch. The vessels for its transport were all available from the lines that ply from Calcutta and Bombay, and no ship was needed from England. The bluejackets and marines with half a battalion of the Royal Welch Fusiliers, already on the spot, and two batteries with some Engineers were all the white troops we had until gallant Australia sent her splendid little contingent as an earnest of what she could and would do if required.
Previous to the expedition of 1900, the Indian army was never allowed to engage in war without a strong backing of British troops. And even its own officers scarcely dared to allow themselves to believe that without such leavening their men could successfully oppose a European army. But now that they have seen them contrasted with the pick of Continental soldiers, they know that they could confidently lead their Sikhs, Gurkhas, Rajputs, Pathans, or Punjaubis against the men of any other nation. Not only is the Indian army as well equipped and organised as any it could now be called upon to face, but also the fighting races of our Eastern Empire, led by their British officers, are equal to any foe. The desperate battles of the Sikh War, when, as in the fierce struggle of Chillianwallah, victory often hung wavering in the balance, the determined resistance of the mutinous troops in 1857, show that skilful leadership is all that our sepoys need to enable them to encounter the best soldiers of any nation.
GERMAN AND INDIAN SOLDIERS
India is a continent—not a country—composed of many races that differ far more than European nationalities. A Russian and an Englishman, a Swede and an Italian are nearer akin, more alike in appearance, manners, and modes of thought than a Gurkha and a Pathan, a Sikh and a Mahratta, a Rajput and a Madrassi. It follows that the fighting value of all these various races of India is not the same. No one would seek among the Bengali babus or the Parsees of Bombay for warriors. The Madras sepoy, though his predecessors helped to conquer India for British rule, has fallen from his high estate and is no longer regarded as a reliable soldier. Yet the wisdom of the policy which relegated him of late years altogether to the background during war may be questioned. For the Madras sappers and miners, who alone of all the Madras army have been constantly employed, have always proved satisfactory. But the fiat has gone forth; and the Madrassi will be gradually replaced even in his own presidency by the men of the more martial races of the North. The Mahratta, who once struck terror throughout the length and breadth of Hindustan, is considered by some critics to be no longer useful as a fighting man. But they forget that not so long ago in the desperate battles near Suakin, when even British troops gave back before the mad rushes of fanatical Dervishes, the 28th Bombay Pioneers saved a broken square from imminent destruction by their steadfast bravery. And they were Mahrattas then. Of the excellence of the gallant warrior clans of Rajputana, of the fierce Pathans inured to fighting from boyhood, of the sturdy, cheerful, little Gurkhas, the steady, long‐limbed Sikhs, none can doubt. Hard to conquer were they in the past; splendid to lead to battle now. To Lord Roberts is chiefly due the credit of welding together the Indian army and making it the formidable fighting machine it is.
One great factor of its efficiency is the excellence of its British officers. Early placed in a position of responsibility, they rapidly learn to rely on themselves and act, if need be, on their own initiative. In a British regiment an officer may serve twenty years without commanding more than a company; whereas the Indian army subaltern, before he has worn a sword three years, may find himself in command of his battalion on field‐days, in manœuvres, sometimes even in war. In the stern fighting at the Malakand in the beginning of the Tirah campaign, one Punjaub regiment was commanded by a subaltern, who acquitted himself of his difficult task with marked ability. Unlike the system of promotion that exists in the British army, the English officers of the native corps attain the different grades after a certain number of years’ service—nine for captain, eighteen for major, twenty‐six for lieutenant‐colonel—and may occupy any position in their regiments irrespective of the rank they hold.
An Indian infantry battalion consists of eight companies, each under a native officer, termed a subhedar, with a jemadar or lieutenant to assist him. He is responsible for the discipline and interior economy of his company. The senior native officer is known as the subhedar‐major. Instead of the terms lance‐corporal, corporal, sergeant, and sergeant‐major, lance‐naik, naik, havildar, and havildar‐major are the names of the corresponding grades.