The doubt and anxiety of public opinion in 1912 were not allayed when the strength and composition of the British Army came to be considered.
Leaving out of account those troops which were recruited and maintained in India, the Dominions, and the Dependencies, the actual number of British regulars employed in garrison duty abroad was in round figures 125,000 men. The number in the United Kingdom was approximately the same; but by no means the whole of these were fit to take the field. The total strength of the Regular Army in 1912-1913 might therefore be taken at somewhere between 250,000 and 254,000 men,[1] of whom half were permanently out of this country, while from 25,000 to 50,000 could not be reckoned on as available in case of war, for the reason that they were either recent recruits or 'immatures.'[2]
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The reserves and additional troops which would be called out in the event of a serious war were so different in character that it was impossible simply to throw them into a single total, and draw conclusions therefrom according to the rules of arithmetic. For when people spoke of the Army Reserve, the Special Reserve, and the Territorial Army, they were talking of three things, the values of which were not at all comparable. The first were fully trained fighting soldiers; the second were lads with a mere smattering of their trade; while the third were little more than an organised schedule of human material—mainly excellent—which would become available for training only at the outbreak of war, and whose liability for service was limited to home defence. The sum-total of these reserves and additional troops was roughly 450,000 men; but this row of figures was entirely meaningless, or else misleading, until the significance of its various factors was grasped.[3]
THE THREE RESERVES
The first of these categories, the Army Reserve, was the only one which could justly claim to rank as a true reserve—that is, as a fighting force, from the outbreak of war equal in calibre to the Continental {319} troops against which, it would be called upon to take the field.
The Army Reserve consisted of men who had served their full time in the Regular Army. They were therefore thoroughly trained and disciplined, needing only a few days—or at most weeks—to rub the rust off them.[4] Nominally their numbers were 137,000[5] men; but as over 8000 of these were living out of the United Kingdom the net remainder had to be taken at something under 130,000. Moreover, as the Army Reserve depended automatically upon the strength of the Regular Army, and as the strength of this had recently been reduced, it seemed necessarily to follow that ultimately there would be a considerable diminution.
The second category to which the name of a reserve was given was the Special Reserve. This, however, was no true reserve like the first, for it was wholly unfit to take the field upon the outbreak of hostilities. It was the modern substitute for the Militia, and was under obligation to serve abroad in time of war. The term of enlistment was six years, and the training nominally consisted of six months in the first year, and one month in camp in each of the succeeding years. But in practice these conditions had been greatly relaxed. It was believed that, upon the average, the term of training amounted to even less than the proposals of the National Service {320} League,[6] which had been criticised from the official standpoint—severely and not altogether unjustly—on the ground that they would not provide soldiers fit to be drafted immediately into the fighting line.
Notwithstanding the inadequacy of its military education, this Special Reserve was relied upon in some measure for making up the numbers of our Expeditionary Force[7] at the commencement of war, and individuals from it, and even in some cases units, would therefore have been sent out to meet the conscript armies of the Continent, to which they were inferior, not only in length and thoroughness of training, but also in age. It was important also to bear in mind that they would be led by comparatively inexperienced and untrained officers. The strength of the Special Reserve was approximately 58,000[8] men, or lads. Under the most favourable view it was a corps of apprentices whose previous service had been of a very meagre and desultory character.
The third category was the Territorial Army, whose term of service was four years and whose military training, even nominally, only consisted of fifteen days in camp each year, twenty drills the first year, and ten drills each year after that. In reality this training had, on the average, consisted of very much less. This force was not liable for service abroad, but only for home defence.
The minimum strength of the Territorial Army {321} was estimated beforehand by Lord Haldane at 316,000 men; but these numbers had never been reached. The approximate strength was only 260,000 men, of whom only about half had qualified, both by doing fifteen days in camp, and by passing an elementary test in musketry.[9] These numbers had recently shown a tendency to shrink rather than swell.[10]
THEIR VALUES AND TRAINING
The value of the Territorial Army, therefore, was that of excellent, though in certain cases immature, material, available for training upon the outbreak of war. But in spite of its high and patriotic spirit it was wholly unfit to take the field against trained troops until it had undergone the necessary training.
In the event of war we could not safely reckon upon being able to withdraw our garrisons from abroad.[11] Consequently, in the first instance, and until the Special Reserve and the Territorial Army had been made efficient, all we could reasonably depend upon for serious military operations, either at home or abroad, were that part of the Regular Army which was in the United Kingdom, and the Army Reserve.
In round figures therefore our soldiers immediately available for a European war (i.e. that portion of the Regular Army which was stationed at home and the Army Reserve) amounted on mobilisation to something much under 250,000 men. Our apprentice troops (the Special Reserve), who were really considerably less than half-made, numbered something {322} under 60,000 men. Our unmade raw material (the Territorial Army), excellent in quality and immediately available for training, might be taken at 260,000 men.
The main consideration arising out of this analysis was of course the inadequacy of the British Army to make good the numerical deficiency of the Triple Entente in the Western theatre during the onset and the grip of war. Supposing England to be involved in a European war, which ran its course and was brought to a conclusion with the same swiftness which had characterised every other European war within the last half century, how were our half-made and our unmade troops to be rendered efficient in time to effect the result in any way whatsoever?
SCARCITY OF OFFICERS
There was yet another consideration of great gravity. If our full Expeditionary Force were sent abroad we should have to strain our resources to the utmost to bring it up to its full nominal strength and keep it there. The wastage of war would necessarily be very severe in the case of so small a force; especially heavy in the matter of officers. Consequently, from the moment when this force set sail, there would be a dearth of officers in the United Kingdom competent to train the Special Reserve, the Territorial Army, and the raw recruits. Every regular and reserve officer in the country would be required in order to mobilise the Expeditionary Force, and keep it up to its full strength during the first six months. As things then stood there was a certainty—in case of war—of a very serious shortage of officers of suitable experience and age to undertake the duties, which {323} were required under our recently devised military system.[12]
Half-made soldiers and raw material alike would therefore be left to the instruction of amateur or hastily improvised officers—zealous and intelligent men without a doubt; but unqualified, owing to their own lack of experience, for training raw troops, so as to place them rapidly on an equality with the armies to which they would find themselves opposed. What the British system contemplated, was as if you were to send away the headmaster, and the assistant-masters, and the under-masters, leaving the school in charge of pupil-teachers.
In no profession is the direct personal influence of teaching and command more essential than in the soldier's. In none are good teachers and leaders more able to shorten and make smooth the road to confidence and efficiency. Seeing that we had chosen to depend so largely upon training our army after war began, it might have been supposed, that at least we should have taken care to provide ourselves with a sufficient number of officers and non-commissioned officers, under whose guidance the course of education would be made as thorough and as short as possible. This was not the case. Indeed the reverse was the case. Instead of possessing a large number of officers and non-commissioned officers, beyond those actually required at the outbreak of war for the purpose of {324} starting with, and repairing the wastage in the Expeditionary Force, we were actually faced, as things then stood, with a serious initial shortage of the officers required for this one purpose alone.
Lord Haldane in framing the army system which is associated with his name chose to place his trust in a small, highly-trained expeditionary force for immediate purposes, to be supplemented at a later date—if war were obliging enough to continue for so long—by a new army of which the Territorials formed the nucleus, and which would not begin its real training until after the outbreak of hostilities. Under the most favourable view this plan was a great gamble; for it assumed that in the war which was contemplated, the onset and the grip periods would be passed through without crushing disaster, and that England would, in due course, have an opportunity of making her great strength felt in the drag. It will be said that Lord Haldane's assumption has been justified by recent events, and in a sense this is true; but by what merest hair-breadth escape, by what sacrifices on the part of our Allies, at what cost in British lives, with what reproach to our national good name, we have not yet had time fully to realise.
But crediting Lord Haldane's system, if we may, with an assumption which has been proved correct, we have reason to complain that he did not act boldly on this assumption and make his scheme, such as it was, complete and effective. For remember, it was contemplated that the great new army, which was to defend the existence of the British Empire in the final round of war, should be raised and trained upon the voluntary principle—upon a wave of patriotic enthusiasm—after war broke out. This new army {325} would have to be organised, clothed, equipped, armed, and supplied with ammunition. The 'voluntary principle' did not apply to matters of this kind. It might therefore have been expected that stores would be accumulated, and plans worked out upon the strictest business principles, with philosophic thoroughness, and in readiness for an emergency which might occur at any moment.
WANT OF STORES AND PLANS
Moral considerations which precluded 'conscription' did not, and could not, apply to inanimate material of war, or to plans and schedules of army corps and camps, or to a body of officers enlisted of their own free will. It may have been true that to impose compulsory training would have offended the consciences of free-born Britons; but it was manifestly absurd to pretend that the accumulation of adequate stores of artillery and small arms, of shells and cartridges, of clothing and equipment, could offend the most tender conscience—could offend anything indeed except the desire of the tax-payer to pay as few taxes as possible.
If the British nation chose to bank on the assumption, that it would have the opportunity given it of 'making good' during the drag of war, it should have been made to understand what this entailed in the matter of supplies; and most of all in reserve of officers. All existing forces should at least have been armed with the most modern weapons. There should have been arms and equipment ready for the recruits who would be required, and who were relied upon to respond to a national emergency. There should have been ample stores of every kind, including artillery, and artillery ammunition, for that Expeditionary Force upon which, during the first {326} six months we had decided to risk our national safety.
But, in fact, we were provided fully in none of these respects. And least of all were we provided in the matter of officers. There was no case of conscience at stake; but only the question of a vote in the House of Commons. We could have increased our establishment of officers by a vote; we could have laid in stores of ammunition, of clothing, of equipment by a vote. But the vote was not asked for—it might have been unpopular—and therefore Lord Haldane's scheme—in its inception a gamble of the most hazardous character—was reduced to a mere make-believe, for the reason that its originator lacked confidence to back his own 'fancy.'
Looking back at the Agadir incident, it seemed plain enough, from a soldier's point of view, that the British Expeditionary Force was inadequate, in a purely military sense, to redress the adverse balance against the French, and beat back a German invasion. The moral effect, however, of our assistance would undoubtedly have been very great, in encouraging France and Belgium by our comradeship in arms, and in discouraging Germany, by making clear to her the firmness of the Triple Entente.
But by the summer of 1914—three years later—this position had undergone a serious change. In a purely military sense, the value of such aid as it had been in our power to send three years earlier, was greatly diminished. The increase in the German striking force over that of France, which had taken effect since 1911, was considerably greater than the total numbers of the army which we held prepared {327} for foreign service. This was fully understood abroad; and the knowledge of it would obviously diminish the moral as well as the material effect of our co-operation.
COST OF FULL INSURANCE
In order that the combined forces of France and England might have a reasonable chance of holding their own[13] against Germany, until Russian pressure began to tell, the smallest army which we ought to have been able to put in the field, and maintain there for six months, was not less than twice that of the existing Expeditionary Force. From a soldier's point of view 320,000 men instead of 160,000 was the very minimum with which there might be a hope of withstanding the German onset; and for the purpose of bringing victory within sight it would have been necessary to double the larger of these figures. In order to reach the end in view, Britain ought to have possessed a striking force at least half as large as that of France, in round figures between 600,000 and 750,000 men.
This was how the matter appeared in 1912, viewed from the standpoint of a soldier who found himself asked to provide a force sufficient, not for conquest—not for the purpose of changing the map of Europe to the advantage of the Triple Entente—but merely in order to safeguard the independence of Belgium and Holland, to prevent France from being crushed by Germany,[14] and to preserve the security of the British Empire.
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The political question which presented itself to the minds of enquirers was this—If the British nation were told frankly the whole truth about the Army, would it not conceivably decide that complete insurance was a better bargain than half measures? What force ought we to be prepared to send to France during the first fortnight of war in order to make it a moral certainty that Germany would under no circumstances venture to attack France?
To questions of this sort it is obviously impossible to give certain and dogmatic answers. There are occasions when national feeling runs away with policy and overbears considerations of military prudence. The effects of sudden panic, of a sense of bitter injustice, of blind pride or overweening confidence, are incalculable upon any mathematical basis. But regarding the matter from the point of view of the Kaiser's general staff, whose opinion is usually assumed to be a determining factor in German enterprises, a British Expeditionary Force, amounting to something over 600,000 men, would have been sufficient to prevent the occurrence of a coolly calculated war. And in the event of war arising out of some uncontrollable popular impulse, a British Army of this size would have been enough, used with promptitude and under good leadership, to secure the defeat of the aggressor.
An Expeditionary Force of 320,000 men would mean fully trained reserves of something over 210,000 in order to make good the wastage of war during a campaign of six months. Similarly an Expeditionary Force of 600,000 would mean reserves of 400,000. In the former case a total of 530,000 trained soldiers, {329} and in the latter a total of 1,000,000, would therefore have been required.[15]
Even the smaller of these proposed increases in the Expeditionary Force would have meant doubling the number of trained soldiers in the British Army; the larger would have meant multiplying it by four. Under what system would it be possible to achieve these results if public opinion should decide that either of them was necessary to national security? The answer was as easy to give as the thing itself seemed hard to carry out.
LIMITS OF VOLUNTARY ENLISTMENT
It had become clear a good deal earlier than the year 1914 that the limit of voluntary enlistment, under existing conditions, had already been reached for the Regular as well as the Territorial Army. If, therefore, greater numbers were required they could only be provided by some form of compulsory service. There was no getting away from this hard fact which lay at the very basis of the situation.
If security were the object of British policy, the Expeditionary Force must be fully trained before war broke out. It would not serve the purpose for which it was intended, if any part of it, or of its reserves, needed to be taught their trade after war began. Thoroughness of training—which must under ordinary circumstances[16] be measured by length of {330} training—appeared to be a factor of vital importance. Given anything like equality in equipment, generalship, and position, men who had undergone a full two years' course—like the conscript armies of the Continent—ought to have no difficulty in defeating a much larger force which had less discipline and experience.
The lessons of the South African War were in many ways very useful; but the praise lavishly, and justly, given to volunteer battalions by Lord Roberts and other distinguished commanders, needed to be studied in the light of the circumstances, and these were of a peculiar character. For one thing our antagonists, the Boers, were not trained troops, and moreover, their policy to a large extent was to weary us out, by declining decisive action and engaging us in tedious pursuits. Our volunteers, for the most part, were picked men. Although only half-trained—perhaps in the majority of cases wholly untrained—circumstances in this case permitted of their being given the time necessary for gaining experience in the field before being required to fight. This was an entirely different state of affairs from what might be looked for in a European war, in a densely peopled country, covered with a close network of roads and railways—a war in which great masses of highly disciplined soldiers would be hurled against one another systematically, upon a settled plan, until at last superiority at one point or another should succeed in breaking down resistance. The South African war and a European war were two things not in the least comparable.
THE PEOPLE HAD A RIGHT TO KNOW
Before the nation could be expected to come to a final decision with regard to the insurance premium {331} which it was prepared to pay, it would require to be fully informed upon a variety of subordinate points of much importance. Cost was a matter which could not be put lightly on one side; our peculiar obligations in regard to foreign garrisons was another; the nature of our industrial system was a third; and there were many besides. But the main and governing consideration, if we wished to retain our independence as a nation, was—what provisions were adequate to security? The people wanted to know, and had a right to know, the facts. And in the end, with all due regard for our governors, and for the self-importance of political parties, it was not either for ministers or partisans to decide this question on behalf of the people; it was for the people, on full and honest information, to decide it for themselves.
[1] These rough totals were approximately the same in the autumn of 1912, and at the outbreak of war in July 1914.
[2] The exact number of men who could remain in the units when mobilised was difficult to assess, for the reason that it varied considerably according to the trooping season, which begins in August and ends in February. February was therefore the most unfavourable month for comparison, and it is probably not far from the truth to say that at that date 50,000 men out of our nominal home army were unavailable in case of war. Under the extreme stress of circumstances, it had recently been decided that boys of nineteen might serve in Europe in the event of war, so that a good many 'immatures' were now nominally 'mature.' Only nominally, however, for even a war minister could not alter the course of nature by a stroke of the pen.
[3] Without wearying the reader too much with figures the German strength may be briefly indicated. That country has a population roughly half as large again as our own (65 millions against 45). The total of fully trained men whom the German Government could mobilise at the declaration of war was something over 4,500,000. Of these some 2,400,000 composed the 'striking force'; the remaining 2,100,000 or thereabouts, the reserve for making good wastage of war. But in addition, Germany had scheduled and inscribed in her Ersatz, or recruiting reserve, and in the Landsturm, fully 5,000,000 untrained and partially trained men, with ample equipment and military instructors for them all. A large proportion of these would be enrolled on mobilisation, and would undertake garrison and other duties, for which they would be fitted after a short period of service, thus freeing all fully trained men for service in the field.
[4] For purposes of immediate mobilisation, however, Continental reservists are superior to our own, because in the British Army they lose touch with their regiments, and in case of war will in many cases be serving with officers and comrades whom they know nothing about; whereas in Germany (for example) they come up for periods of training with the regiments to which they belong. Also, at the outset, the proportion of reservists to serving soldiers will be much greater in our case.
[5] This was in 1912. Their numbers appear to have increased somewhat. In July 1914 they were something over 146,000.
[6] Viz. four months for infantry and six for cavalry.
[7] Twenty-seven battalions of the Special Reserve were scheduled to go out as complete units for duty on lines of communication, etc. The report on recruiting for 1912 says that the great majority of recruits for the Special Reserve join between the ages of seventeen and nineteen. It is hardly necessary to point out the folly of putting boys of this age in a situation where they will be peculiarly liable to disease. Continental nations employ their oldest classes of reserves for these duties.
[8] In July 1914 about 61,000.
[9] I.e. in the autumn of 1912. They were, therefore, 56,000 short of Lord Haldane's estimate.
[10] Latterly there was a slight improvement in recruiting. In July 1914 the numbers (including permanent staff) were a little over 268,000—48,000 short of Lord Haldane's estimate.
[11] The fact that in certain cases we did so withdraw our garrisons in 1914-1915 without disaster does not invalidate this calculation.
[12] The experience of the past few months makes this criticism appear absurd—in its understatement. But of course what was contemplated in 1912-13 was not anything upon the gigantic scale of our present 'New Army'; but only (a) the Special Reserve, (b) the Territorial Army, possibly doubled in numbers during the first six months, and (c) fresh recruits for the Regular Army upon a very considerably enhanced scale. But even for these purposes which were foreseen, the provision of officers was quite inadequate; so inadequate indeed as to appear from the soldier's point of view in the light of a parliamentary farce.
[13] I.e. of holding the Germans at the French frontier and keeping them out of Belgium should they attempt to invade that country.
[14] At the time these totals were worked out the results appeared very startling to the lay mind. Recent experience, however, has proved that the soldiers who worked them out were right when they described them as 'modest estimates.'
[15] In this calculation the wastage of war during the first six months has been taken at two-thirds. With the smaller force of 160,000 men, practically the whole army would be in the fighting line all the time, and the wastage consequently would be heavier. It could not wisely be assumed at less than three-fourths for the same period.
[16] Obviously the better and more experienced the officers, the higher the quality of the recruits, and the keener their spirit, the more quickly the desired result will be achieved. The last two have been very potent factors in the rapid education of our present 'New Army.' In a time of abnormal patriotic impulse, the length of time required will be much shortened. Since August 1914 the lack of experienced officers has been the great difficulty.