In the field he will understand the true inwardness of those regulations, continually impressed upon him at home by senior officers, whom he was disposed to regard as “fussy” and “red-tapey,” which lay down a clear social distinction between the officer and his men. He must find out for himself how to adjust those regulations with that measure of good-fellowship which, if he keeps his eyes open, he will see existing between officers and men already at the front. Presently he will begin to comprehend that the leader must be different from his men, that the men must look up to him as to a real “superior,” for guidance, for moral support. Then, when he begins to realize that it largely depends on himself whether his men are good or bad, he will take his place as a tiny cog in the position allocated to him by the army in its vast system of machinery.
But even should it prove impossible to maintain the old atmosphere of our officers’ corps, the new atmosphere will, I believe, be impregnated with the same ideals as the old, though their origin may be different. Our present army, composed of veterans of the Expeditionary Force, Territorials, and New Army men, is inspired by the same determination to prevail as held our little army firm at Mons and Ypres. In the case of the Expeditionary Force, probably military tradition, which has all the force of habit, was the main source from which this rare tenacity was fed; with the New Army this unanimous resolve to conquer or die springs from a blending of our great military traditions with the mighty uplifting of our British civilization against a tyranny in which liberty cannot live. Therefore I think one need not be apprehensive lest the change which is coming over the character of the British Army should detract from its fighting worth. Our military traditions will see to it that discipline remains unimpaired: our resolve as a nation to see this thing through will inspire our new troops to model themselves on the glorious example of the men who have gone before.
The men in the field were glad to welcome the New Army. Already the young troops have sustained their baptism of fire, not only in the trenches but also in the open field. Obviously, not only officers and men, but also the staffs, are lacking in experience of trench warfare. Their immediate usefulness would rather seem to lie in the assault, but, pending a resumption of the offensive by the Allies on the Western front, every day the New Army spends in the field adds to its knowledge of the peculiar conditions of the war of positions.
The future is to the New Army. Their arrival in the field betokens the end of the era of insufficient men and resources. It ushers in the day when the Allies, with all the force that in them dwells, shall essay to break the wall of steel which Germany has flung across Europe. In a dawn as full of promise as that which saw the rising of the sun of Austerlitz, the young levies of Imperial Britain are waiting at the parapet of our trench-line, looking out across the void at the barrier behind which victory lies.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] “Crown and Anchor”—a soldier’s game of chance played with a pointer which is spun round a board marked out in fields of different colour on which the players stake. Stakes are paid according to the field at which the pointer stops. This and “’Ouse” (see following footnote) are great games among Regulars at the front. They are, or used to be, extensively played on troop transports homeward bound from India. Quite considerable sums of money are said to change hands at “Crown and Anchor” on these transports.
[2] “House”—a kind of lotto, played with numbered cards, mostly for copper stakes.
THE END
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