“Why, you do not mean to say that American officers and soldiers would hide behind rocks and trees, do you?” he exclaimed in astonishment.
“Of course they would,” I replied. “They would not only get behind rocks and trees, but behind the largest they could find. Don’t you do the same?”
“No, indeed,” he said with emphasis, adding, “What would the men think of an officer who would hide during a fight?” As it was not my first visit in England, I did not continue the argument.
The Twelfth Lancers in South Africa.
General French examining the enemy’s position during the battle of Diamond Hill.
It was, indeed, the general British opinion that to protect oneself in a fight was to hide, and with this idea the men went to war in a country where the enemy could find all the protection that he wanted, and where he knew how to use it; and so these brave soldiers were sent up in solid formation to be shot to bits by an invisible foe. There could be no greater test of the valor of the British soldier than the manner in which he faced death during the first months of the war.
The difference between the British and the American soldier is very marked in the fact that the class feeling in England is so great. All the middle and lower classes of England are taught to touch their hats to birth in what is called a gentleman, and no matter where they meet one, they show him deference. From these middle and lower classes the army, of course, gathers its strength; consequently there is a feeling of obedience even before the real lesson of the soldier begins. This subservience is not always a good thing, for any one who has the appearance of a gentleman has about as much influence or authority with the men as an officer in uniform would have. An incident which illustrates this occurred during the first days of the British occupation of Pretoria. It was found that some of the Boer sympathizers were communicating with their friends on commando during the night, and, to prevent this, an order was issued that no one should pass the sentries posted around the town after sundown or before sunrise, without a pass from the military governor or from the field marshal himself. The order was as imperative as could be made, for the danger at that time was very great, and it was necessary that even the smallest bits of information should be kept from the Boer forces. A party of five Americans were dining at the house of a friend on the opposite side of the line of sentries, and, when the order was issued, it looked as though we would not get back until the next morning. One of the party suggested that we bluff our way past the sentry at the bridge over which we had to pass. The plan was adopted, and we walked boldly up to the sentry post, and were promptly challenged. One of the party stepped forward, and in a tone of authority said, “These gentlemen are Americans, and are with me, sentry, and it will be all right. Just pass them too.”
“You are sure it will be all right, sir?” inquired the sentry.