Charles E W Bean, Diaries, AWM38 3DRL 606/261/1 - 1929 - 1930 - Part 12

N.B

did when he deliberately disregarded his Admiral's signal to break

off the battle of the Baltic and as deliberately nailed his own

signal for close fighting to his masthead, that if our judgment

is at fault we shall be dealt with as we deserve and if our

judgment be at fault let us accept condemnation with resignation

-for we have done our best. That knowledge should prevent any

unnecessary harshness or tyranny.

 

I will now put before you a few instances of discipline

and its effects, of the want of it and its effects also, of

breaches of it and their consequences too for I strongly hold

that a single example or illustration teaches us more than a

whole book of abstract theory.

 

When I was a N.C.O. I often used to talk to the N.C.

O's of the Coldstream Guards with whom we were brigaded for some

months in Africa. Many of them were old Sergeants with up to

20 years service and an extra tot of rum saved from our allowance

would mostly lead to something of interest to us youngsters

 

They spoke of the methods adopted to instil this habit

of instant, unhesitating and unthinking obedience into their recruits.

It appears that their Drill Instructors would tell his

Squad to fall out for a smoke. He would wait until a man for

example had his tobacco cut up in his hand ready for his pipe.

He would then order him to bring something to him. If the man

stopped to put the tobacco into his pipe he would be brought

up before the Colonel for "hesitating to obey an order" the

usual punishment for which was anything up to 14 days C.B. i.e.

instead of being allowed out in the afternoon a man had to remain

in barracks and report to the orderly Sergeant every half

hour or so.

 

Now what do you think of that. You will say perhaps

it is a lot of silly damned nonsence serving no good purpose and

should be abolished. Perhaps I said or thought so too once.

If I did, I do so no longer. Why, because I have seen the other

side of the picture.

 

I will try to paint it for you. A bare rocky plain by

a wretched tin railway siding. It is evening the Brigade

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halted close to a damn, Australians and Coldstreamers, Yeomanry

and niggers, waggon drivers all over the place in confusion for

the time being, gathering wood or killing sheep, lighting fires

cooking or engaged in the hundred and one jobs that you find to

do at the end of a trek. Alarm posts had been told off to

every unit, always the same side of Camp every night, but most

of the Australians have forgotten which side of the camp these

were on for they hadn't had to occupy them yet and their officers

had neglected to point them out their post each night.

 

There was a long rocky ridge about a mile or so out with

little rugged kopjes near the foot jutting out towards the camp.

There are Australian Cossak Posts out a mile or two along the three

main roads that lead into the siding, there are infantry piquets

all round somewhere towards the foot of the mountains. Suddenly

the air is rent by a volley of bullets, a horse or two falls

kicking in the lines and a man rolls over like a shot rabbit and

you hear far off the clacking double report of the Mauser Rifles.

What happens. The Australian act according to their nature.

Some rush to pick up their wounded, some rush to their horses,

some stand with their mouths open gazing at the hills, some take

cover - the last thing thought of is to fall in on their alarm

post, 3 or 5 minutes have passed and nothing done. Now look at

the Coldstreams Camp, what has become of them. On the instant

every man without a single word of command dashed into his equip-

ment and falls in on his alarm post. One of their men is down

too. What of it - there is the doctor and stretcher bearers to

attend to that. It is nothing to do with the rank and file.

His job is to fall in on his alarm post equipment and rifle in

hand. A word of command and two Companies stream out at the 

double to support the outposts at the point of danger the remainder

line the stones ma^rking the alarm posts - the attack is

checked and sputtering fire continues for awhile and dies away

in the gathering darkness and soon all is quiet, the companies

sent out come back and all is as it was before. There you see

the difference between the untrained and undisciplined irregulars

and the trained professional soldiers. It is at such times of

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surprise and emergency that the training tells - instinctively

the disciplined men rush together and become a formed body amen-

able to order and control - the untrained man has no such instinct,

he remains scattered beyond control or direction - for

when the bullets fly past you like angry wasps every time you

raise your head, you cannot rush round calling out for A Company

or B Company markers or Fall in D Company, nor if you did would you

achieve anything more comforting than a bed in the hospital or

a grave in the hillside, scarce deep enough to shield your ribs

from the wind. These things must be taught in peace and taught

in such a way that obedience becomes an instinct too deep for such

a thing as a casual volley of bullets to disturb or evaporate.

 

These little jokes of the Drill Instructor were not invented

merely for the purpose of harrassing the unfortunated recruit

as would apear to be the case at first glance. A very

deep and useful principle underlies them.

 

Now you can from what I have said imagine what would be

likely to happen in the event of a surprise or night attack on

untrained troops. You can begin to understan how Stonewall

Jackson's flank attack at Chancellersville under just such similar

circumstances as I have mentioned crumpled up in utter ruin the

whole of Hooker's army (though the latter had with him enough

men to swallow Jackson's whole force) and sent it stampeding to

their rear in shameful panic. You can imagine also what it

was like at Wilmansrust when the Boers rushed the tents of the

5th Contingent in the dark.

 

Now another/story. A squadron of Australians hot, dusty

and dry are pushing fast along a road in that "scorched and

scornful land" their waggons toiling along in the rear deep in

dust with a few men told off as escort. One of these men - call

him TrooperX sees a buck at a little distance, he will he thinks

slip off the waggon and secure a choice supper. Corporal Z

in charge of the escort thinks it no harm, he lets him go, he will

he imagines rejoin in a few minutes. At any rate he will get

in to-night as he has only to follow the track.

 

The man goes off - he is not a very good hunter - the

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buck sees him and makes off a good way then starts to feed the

trooper follows. He thinks he will get behind a clump of

bushes and stalk him. He cautiously approaches, reaches the

bushes then finds the buck gone. He searches awhile and then gives

it up. By this time he is a good way from the road and the

waggons have gone even the dust from them is not in sight.

However he will by taking a short cut diagonally to the track

soon catch up. He hurries on. He strikes a patch of prickly

bush, it does not seem of any great extent so he resolves to

go round it on the side further from the road, he goes on

and on, so does the bush. He gets very thirsty and soon drains

his water bottle, it begins to grow dark and still the scrub

is between him and the road and gets no less. In desperation

he endeavours to get through the scrub. A troop of baboons

start up and follow him, gibbering and barking and gnashing

their teeth like huge mastiffs. He fires his rifle and shouts

and they scurry away, but there is no answering shot from his

comrades. Darkness comes on and he stumbles into a prickly

bush. He sits down to rest for awhile and loses all sense of

direction. He is lost and already feels the pangs of thirst

and hunger.

 

Let us return to his comrades. Camp is reached.

After waiting sometime Corporal Z reports that Trooper X is

missing. But it is dark, nothing can be done until morning.

Morning dawns. The officers discuss the matter over their

hurried meal. The Captain anxiously scans his instructions.

he has been ordered to reach and hold a certain drift or ford by

a certain time. He sees already by a glance at his map that

he has not covered as much as he should have done in the time.

He must push on or his mission will be fruitless and he must

pay the penalty. Very deeply does he damn Trooper X and Corporal

Z for their want of discipline in the matter but that does not

mend matters. The words "Saddle up" is given. Then a Lieutenant

comes to the Captain with a grave face. His troop to which Trooper

X belongs say they wont march until Trooper X is found and    --

unanimously demand to go in search of him. They point out that

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there is no water en route and if left behind today he will

surely perish and by an awful death. The Captain reasons with

them, points out his instructions are definite. It is useless

to go with part only of his force, (small enough already in all

conscience to resist a possible attack by double or treble his

total strength), but without result. It is nothing to them if

the Commando trickles through and hundreds of men's lives are

lost (each individual of which is greater for and value than

Bill X's miserable existence) and thousands of pounds are spent

in rounding them up again. Bill X has to be saved. At length

the Lieutenant suggests that if he and those others are left with

the water cart they will undertake to rescue Bill X. So the

squadron moves off at last and fortunately perhaps the Boers tried

another route. Anyhow no complaint was made and Bill X was

rescued by the Lieutenant when at his last gasp having stripped off

every stitch he has worn and thrown his rifle and ammunition

away.

 

Now that Captain was one who I am prone now to think

valued popularity with his men too hightly. Was prone to disregard

what he considered unnecessary or absurd orders. His

popularity suffered very much over that little incident and

was never quite regained. His men chose to regard him as

heartless and cruel. I myself may have done so. The irregular

soldiers especially the young and those unaccustomed to discipline

are not able to weigh things in their minds in the proper light

-to think out and get to the bottom of things. Yet the Captain

was absolutely right. Bill X left to die and rot in the

circumstances would have thoroughly deserved his fate and Corporal

Z should have got twelve months in jail. What would have happened

to Moore's column if every man, who fell out in the snow from

Craufurd's rear guard had had a body guard of an officer and three

men told off to rescue them.

 

To permit anything approaching it would have absolutely

sacrificed the shole column and they might just as well have sur-

rendered at once. Had that squadron been properly trained they

would without a doubt have left Bill X to the vultures and his

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bones would be bleaching in the scrub to this day. However,

cruel that may sound to you it is War and you must educate your

self to face it and every man amongst you, every possible Bill X

must know that if he straggles, he will have to put up with the

consequences and every Corporal Z must know that for every man

he lets fall out he will be held most strictly to account and

every Captain and every Lieutenant amongst you must face the

problem. See in the first place that there is no Corporal Z

or Bill X amongst you or if there is know the reason why and

more than all this accustom your men to regard such conduct as

that of Bill X as deserving the worst fate that can happen to 

him, to determine to willingly and advisedly let him grin and

bear it.

 

That may not be a humane doctrine but it is War and it is

discipline, and war and discipline are not humane, the two things

are essentially incompatible, and it is not the slightest manner

of use disguising it and sugar coating your discipline in time

of peace, for the sugar will, I assure you suddenly disappear

and melt away in the field and you will be left with the pill

in all its naked bitterness to swallow and make the best of.

The least hesitation or delay in obedience (more especially

in modern times) for a few minutes may well mean the difference

between the losing and winning of a battle and on you lies the

onus of seeing that it does not occur. If your men and N.C.O's

are properly trained such an incident could not occur. If --

Corporal Z had known his job Trooper Bill X would have been brought

back to the waggon quick and lively, before he had gone 20 yards,

and brought up before the Captain to be dealt with for falling

out without permission.

 

Let me give you another little example. A half squadron

of Australians formed the Advanced Screen of the Van Guard of a

column and You, a young Lieutenant, are in command. A man

comes in with some report from the flank. His horse is tired.

You tell your Troop Sergeant to get some one to take his place.

The Sergeant, an old R.A.Gunner, orders one of your best men to

go out. The latter expostulates, says his horse has lost a

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shoe and is knocked up already and as the Sergeant insists

finally point blank refuses to go. He is at once placed under

arrest (all this of course out of your hearing) and the Sergeant

reports to you. Now what are you to do. Will you insist

on that man going or will you let him have his way? Will

you punish him for disobedience or will you refuse to do so?

You know that he is a good man and would not bluff the Sergeant.

Think it out. It will haen to you some time. Or if it does

not something similar will and it will all help you to make up

your mind quickly. Whatever else you decide to do, I suggest

this to you viz. that that Sergeant should forfeit his stripes.

 

Another little story the last. The scene is a little

Dutch village - evening - The same old Brigade, same old

stony plain and same old kopjes. Everybody is weary and worn

out. Enter the Sergeant above referred to on his horse. He

dismounts, calls up a cheeky young bugler (about 16 or so he

was then) (He is now by the way a fine strapping young member

of the Police Force) and orders him to take his horse over to the

well and water it. But Bugler being the average cheeky Australian

Larrikin promptly tells him to go to a warm climate and water his

own horse etc. horse. Now it may be that the Sergeant had

urgent duties to perform and so could not water his horse

himself or he may not. No one asked him the question and from

the point of view of discipline it is absolutely immaterial. He

put the Bugler under arrest, reported him to the Captain and the

Captain, taking a serious view of it, partly by reason of the

language used and partly because the old Sergeant was as in the

previous case very insistent on his dignity and the seriousness

of the offence brough the matter before the C.O. and the C.O.

promptly sentenced the Bugler to one hours field imprisonment.

This was a punishment common enough to the regular soldiers

and consisted in a man being bound to a waggon wheel in a more

or less spreadeagle fashion, but no one of the Australians had

been ever either before then nor afterwards to my knowledge

sentenced to it. A guard was told off to carry out the sentence.

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When they reached the waggon wheel they boy struggled and finding

resistance futile burst into tears. The guard let him go and on

being requested to tie him up refused to do so and threw down the

ropes.

 

They in turn were paraded to the C.O. and sentenced to

the same imprisonment. A new guard was detailed to tie all of

them up but promptly declined to act and although volunteers were

sought for no one could be found to carry out the task.

 

At this moment a staff officer arrived from the Brigadier

ordering the Australians out again for some all night

patrol.

 

The C.O. mentioned the trouble he was in to him and the

Brigadier soon appeared. He told the C.O. that he would hold

him personally responsible that every man went out and he could

get out of his trouble as he best could subject to that. Finally

the C.O. remitted the punishment. Now from that time on until

the Regiment returned home they were never to be depended on,left/to their squadron leaders they could be humoured into obedience, but it was difficult if not impossible to get prompt obedience to orders distasteful to them. The fear of prompt and speedy

punishment was removed and but for the fact that you could always

appeal to their high standard of intelligence they could have been

utterly unmanageable.

 

Now the Brigadier was I submit in the circumstances entirely

wrong. He should have supported the C.O., through thick

and thin and if necessary have seen that that mutinous guard got

3 or 4 years hard labor. Later on perhaps he might have got the

C.O. sent home for lack of judgment in inflicting such punishment

N.B. and particularly in persisting in a form of punishment acknowledged to be degrading, but the C.O. was in a position where

he was obliged to use his judgment and he ought to have been supported whatever stand he took. If afterwards it appeared that

N.B. his judgment was too bad to allow him with safety to retain his

position then I repeat, like all other rubbish he should be shot

out at the first opportunity. But the poor old Brigadier was

in this position, if the Australians refused to march he would

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he left at the mercy of the Yeomanry for whom he had no use of

any kind. In fact, after the Australians were ordered home, he

deliberately asked to be taken from Column work and put on lines

of communication. He openly declared, that he would not trust

his hard earned laurels and reputation to the tender mercy of

half trained or undisciplined Yeomanry and what is more he had

sufficient influence to get his point too. He is now by the

way a Major General in command of a division in England or Ireland

happy with a C.B. and various other decorations. Nevertheless 

I am mere Major of Militia say he was absolutely wrong

[my ran at the time of this ? promotion pending]

and the wrong he did will live after him. Only a few weeks ago

I was speaking to a man who was a Sergeant in the Victorian force

there (He is now a Lieutenant of Senior Cadets by the way) and

he was speaking of how pleased the men were about the Brigadier

shaking up the C.O. over it. My reply was that if I had been

the Commanding Officer I should have got all the guard a term

of hard labor or come home at once and that I was certain of this,

that had Lord Kitchener been appealed to, the Brigadier would have

got such a bump that he'd never have stopped moving until he got

back to England.

 

N.B. The rejoinder to that was that if I had done so I would

have been shot by some of our own men in the next fight.

 

N.B. As to that I said and I say it again that I dont for one

moment believe it and even if I did believe it and allowed myself

to be thereby swayed from what I conceived my duty one single

hairs breadth, then I should prove myself nothing but an arrant

coward and unfit for my position and not one whit better than

if I ran away from the enemy in the open field.

 

If you remove the fear of punishment you strike at the

root of discipline. I advise you all to read a story of Kiplings

in "Soldiers Three" called "The big runk draft". That is a story

of a draft of time expired men on their march to the coast. The

following passage is put into the mouths of an old Private soldier

himself retired by a man who has made soldiers his especial study

Mulvaney says "Tis a shame both to the regiment and army sending

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"down little orf'cers Bhoys wid a draf' av strong men mad

"with liquor An' the chanctav getten' shut of India an

"niver a punishment that's fit to be given right down and away

"from cantonmints to the dock  'Tis this nonsence. When I am

"serving my time I'm undher the Articles av War an' can be whipped

"on the peg for thim. But whin I've served my time, I'm a

"Reserve man an' the Articles of War haven't any hould on me.

"An orf'cer can't do anything to a time-expired man savin'

"confinin' him to barricks.  'Tis a wise reg'lation that - bekaze

"a time expired man does not have any barricks, bein' on the move

"all the time.  'Tis a Soloman of a Reg'lation is that. I wud

"like to be inthroduced to the man that made it. 'Tis easier to

"get colts from a Kittereen horse fair into Galway than to take

"a bad draf' over tin miles av country. Consequintly that Reg'

"lation - for fear that the men would be hurt by the little

"Orf'cer bhoy".

 

Mulvaney goes on to tell his story of how at a hint from

himself the little orf'cer bhoy in flat contravention of Regulations

pegged out on the frosty ground under a guard a pair of

obstreperous drunken men who wanted to fight all and sundry

and the excellent effect it had in restoring discipline. He goes

on:-

"And do you know how they did. That Bhoy as I was tould

"by letter from Bombay bully damned em' down to the dock till they

N.B. "couldn't call their souls their own. From the time they left me

"oi  till they was between decks not wan av thim was more than

"decintly dhrunk. An' by the Holy Articles av War, whin they

"wint aboard they cheered him till they ducn't spake an' that

"mark you has not come about wid a draf' in the Mimiory av livin

"man! You look to that little orf'cer bhoy, he has bowils"

 

Note the confirmation in this passage of Private Harris'

opinion of General Craufurd. The little story reminds me of

what took place when the different contingents' time expired and

they were paid off and sent back to Australia. They were paid up

N.B. in full and their discharges granted, so that there was but the

slightest hold upon them. They could not be fined for no money

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