SHOULD BEARDS BE WORN IN WAR?
Bloemfontein, March 23, 1900.
Dear Sir,—A distinguished General Officer—who is also an exceedingly clever man—was issuing orders on one occasion. "I have no wish," said he, "to interfere with the time-honoured Custom which ordains that heroes may be dirty; but, until they become heroes, I see no reason why they should not try and look like soldiers. The troops under my command will, therefore, shave until they arrive at the actual front."
This witty sentence provides me with an admirable text for a sermon on a subject very near my heart. Our troops have, indeed, proved themselves heroes. Whatever may be the opinion expressed now and hereafter upon many things in the conduct of this war, upon one thing there can be no dissentient voice—I refer to the splendid heroism of our troops. Yes, sir, they are heroes. But why, oh! why do they not try and look like soldiers too? Why should the erstwhile smart Guardsman, the dandy Highlander, the dapper Horseman, adopt the facial disguise of a poacher out of luck, or rather—for the beard is not a good one—of a member of the criminal classes previous to the Saturday evening's ablutions? Surely soap can be purchased, razors ground, and water heated.
It is universally admitted that one of the chief duties of a soldier is to be smart in his appearance, and the fact that on active service there may be some difficulty is surely no excuse for its neglect. In all other periods of the world's history shaving was looked upon as one of the chiefest necessities in time of war. Napoleon's Old Guard shaved, as is well known, throughout the entire retreat from Moscow; there was not a hair upon the faces of Hannibal's legions the day after the famous crossing of the Alps, while Caesar's well-known order, "Ut barbas tondeant," must be familiar to every schoolboy. I might come down to our own times and quote the Queen's Regulations, but I refrain from doing so lest I should be accused of priggishness.
It is, I do not hesitate to say, horrible to me to see the unkempt appearance of those who might be—and are at other times—the finest-looking troops in the world. I feel inclined to say, in the words of Scripture, "Tarry ye at Jericho until (and after) your beards be grown."
I hope, sir, you will forgive this somewhat lengthy letter, but the subject is, as I have said already, very near my heart. No one ever has looked well in a beard, and no one ever will, and until our officers recognise this fact and set an example of spruceness for their men to follow, the army in South Africa must remain an eyesore to all who share the opinions of
Your obedient servant,
Field Officer.