"Oh, his leading of that attack the other night. He's been awarded the Distinguished Conduct Medal. Useful man. Useful man."
"Yes, sir. Isn't it wonderful how a man like that, born in the slums, has all the instinct of a leader, as well as the pluck of a dozen ordinary men."
"They're all the same, Greens," said the colonel, laying down his knife. "You know, I have always commanded that type of man. In peace times you find him convicted daily for drunkenness, absence, insolence, and a hundred other things, yet in war he is always a hero."
[pg 268] "I think, sir, the reason of that is that they are nearer to the brute creation, and better able to stand the shocks of war."
"Well—yes. Those fancy corps composed of gilded youths haven't much stomach for a long campaign. They're bothered with brains. They think too much. A man who thinks deeply isn't much use in the ranks. An officer can do the thinking, the man must go to the cannon's mouth without asking the reason why. It wouldn't do to have three million generals in an army."
"Another point, sir, that I have often thought of; that is, how these men from the slums have always fought Britain's battles. Up till a few years ago it could be said that Britain's battles were won by aristocrats and paupers."
"I never thought of that, Greens, but it's quite true, only the word 'pauper' might be interpreted in a broader sense. What I mean is, that the very poor—honest poor in many cases—have always been in the ranks. There are many reasons. First, since the feudal days, it has been their lot to serve. Traditions have been passed down, even into such a place as the Gallowgate. And tradition, as you know, is a wonderful incentive."
[pg 269] "But hasn't poverty got something to do with it, sir?"
"Yes. Forty per cent enlist for the thrills of the business, another forty per cent come in because of an empty stomach; the remainder have probably been inspired to clear from their haunts through an energetic policeman or an unfortunate affair of the heart. Still, poverty's no crime, and a Don Juan is usually a gallant soldier. And, after all, every one is a volunteer."
"True. And yet I think this class of man will eventually pass out, sir. Look at the hovels they live in,—the awful lives they're compelled to lead. That, in time, will debilitate this class. Worse than that, I'm afraid that Socialism is rapidly spreading. In fifty years these men from the backlands of our cities will be anarchists and revolutionaries."