War and the Arme Blanche. Erskine Childers
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edition of “Cavalry Training” (1907). They constitute an epitome of the case I wish to combat, and I challenge almost every proposition, express or implied, contained in them. The first runs as follows:
“From the foregoing it will be seen that thorough efficiency in the use of the rifle and in dismounted tactics is an absolute necessity. At the same time the essence of the Cavalry spirit lies in holding the balance correctly between fire-power and shock action, and while training troops for the former, they must not be allowed to lose confidence in the latter.”
Beginning with the first sentence, I challenge two assumptions implied in it: first, that “thorough efficiency in the use of the rifle and in dismounted tactics” (by hypothesis an absolute necessity) is compatible with thorough efficiency in shock action, also, by hypothesis, a necessity; second, that thorough efficiency with the rifle is confined to what the compilers of the drill-book call “dismounted tactics.” Passing to the second sentence of the same quotation, I challenge the definition of the “essence of the Cavalry spirit” there laid down. This definition is borrowed word for word from a German book, originally written before the Boer War and republished in 1902, when the war was ending, by an officer—the distinguished General Bernhardi—who founded his conclusions not on experience but on report, and addressed those conclusions to the German Cavalry, whose tactics, training, and organization by his own admission were, and seemingly are still, so dangerously antiquated in the direction of excessive reliance on the steel as to present no parallel to our own Cavalry. I challenge the Cavalry spirit so defined because it is a hybrid spirit, impossible to instil and impossible to translate into “balanced” action, even if the steel deserved, as it does not deserve, to be “balanced” against the rifle. I challenge the definition still further, because it is not even an honest definition. Affecting to strike a just balance between the claims of the rifle and the steel, it does not represent the facts of existing Cavalry theory and practice in this country. Though borrowed from a German authority, it is even less to be relied on as representing the facts of German theory and practice, nor does it correspond to the general tenor of the very handbook—"Cavalry Training"—in which it appears. Those facts and that tenor find their really honest and truthful expression in the second quotation, which runs as follows:
“It must be accepted as a principle that the rifle, effective as it is, cannot replace the effect produced by the speed of the horse, the magnetism of the charge, and the terror of cold steel.”
I challenge both the form and the essence of the statement: its form because the words imply that “the speed of the horse and the magnetism of the charge” are exclusively connected with the use of the cold steel; its essence because the principle laid down is fundamentally unsound.
I want to induce all thinking men, whether professional soldiers or not, who take an interest in our military progress, to submit this theory of the arme blanche once and for all to drastic investigation, in the light of history—especially of South African history and Manchurian history—in the light of physical principles, and in the light of future Imperial needs. Above all, I want them to examine the case made for the theory by Cavalry men themselves, and to judge if that case rests upon an intelligent interpretation of new and valuable experience, or, rather, upon a stubborn adherence to an old tradition whose teaching they have indeed been forced to modify, but have not had the good sense to abandon. The principles laid down by professional men for the use of their own arm must of course exact the greatest respect, but they are not sacrosanct, and if they are found to rest on demonstrably false premisses they deserve to be discarded.
Of all military questions this question of the arme blanche and the rifle is one around which general or outside criticism may most appropriately centre. It is not merely a Cavalry question; it cannot be disposed of by reference to the British regular Cavalry as it exists to-day. The training of all mounted troops, regular or volunteer, home or colonial, however armed and trained, depends on clear notions as to the relative value of the two classes of weapon. As an example of what I mean, I suggest that it is shallow and unscientific to present the Yeomanry with the “Cavalry Training” handbook as a whole, and to inform them in a sort of postscript of three perfunctory pages that they should be “so trained as to be capable of performing all the duties allotted to Cavalry, except those connected with shock action.” According to the interpretation of the words “duties connected with shock action,” the injunction might mean anything or nothing. No clear interpretation of the words could be derived from the handbook itself. The Yeoman might turn for light to the Mounted Infantry Regulations, and ask if, in its opening words, he was “an Infantry soldier …” governed “in his tactical employment by the principles of Infantry training,” and, if not, in exactly what sense and for what reasons he was supposed to differ from the Mounted Infantryman; but he would ask in vain. In the end, he often concludes from the fact that he is “Cavalry,” that he is in peril for lack of a sword, and appeals for the sword when he has barely mastered the rudiments of the rifle. The Mounted Infantryman, who has been first an Infantry soldier, nourished on “Infantry Training,” may well wonder why that manual encouraged him not to fear Cavalry, while directly he obtains a horse he is warned to fear the steel.
These are examples of confusion of thought at home. What of Greater Britain? A critical time has arrived in our Imperial history. There is an universal sense of the necessity of closer union for Imperial defence. An Imperial General Staff has been initiated which is to “standardize” organization and training. One of its functions ought to be to formulate some clear, rational principles for the employment of mounted troops. We know we can get large numbers of these troops. From first to last in the Boer War we obtained upwards of 70,000 men outside Great Britain. We could obtain many in another great war, and make far more valuable use of them; if time and thought were to be given to their organization and training, with a special view to service in an Imperial Army. Inspiration in the first instance will naturally come from the home country. What are we going to ask of these troops, who, be it remembered, are designed to form an integral part of an Imperial Army, ready, without the confusion, waste, and inefficiency due to an improvised system, to take their place in the field for the performance of definite, specific duties? We shall hardly, it is to be presumed, recommend shock action with the steel weapon to men who have not even the sentimental tradition of shock action, much less any practical belief in its efficacy. In what light, then, is shock action to be presented to them? What is to be their rôle? Are they, like the Yeomanry, to be informed that they are unfit to perform an undefined range of duties for which shock action alone is a qualification, or are they to be held competent to act as “Cavalry,” while the Yeomanry cannot claim that privilege? Again, are they, like the Mounted Infantry, to regard themselves on the one hand as “Infantry soldiers” mounted upon horses, and, on the other, as competent to perform regularly the duties of “Divisional Cavalry”? Or are they to be called Mounted Riflemen, a name officially unknown in England? And, if so, in what precise and positive way do Mounted Riflemen differ from Yeomanry, Mounted Infantry, and Cavalry? These questions must be answered, and they must be answered to the satisfaction of practical men whose ideas of war have been moulded by the South African War, where shock action, as they know very well, fell into complete disuse, where all classes of mounted troops, home and colonial, performed according to their varying degrees of ability, the same functions, and where the rifle was the only weapon which counted.
This question of weapons for horsemen must be fairly and squarely faced. It is a national and Imperial question, upon which every shade of opinion, volunteer or regular, should be consulted, and a verdict formed on the evidence, historical and technical. Part only of the rich and varied experience gained upon this question in South Africa was gained by Cavalrymen. Gunners, Sappers, and Infantrymen, to say nothing of volunteer officers of every description, led mounted troops with distinction. The most brilliant Boer leading came from lawyers and farmers. The point is largely one for common sense, applied to known and recent facts, and everybody who takes any interest in military matters, whether he bears arms or not, can and ought to form an intelligent judgment on it.
But at present the situation is far from satisfactory, and, unless the controversy can be brought to a head in time, seems likely to grow more and more unsatisfactory. General public interest in the details of the South African War languished even before it was ended. After the war was over the tendency was to banish a tedious