30 
LAND & WATER 
August lb, 1916 
learnt to form column of sections he had discovered many 
things. He began to learn from the day the medical 
officer, after beating a hollow tattoo on every bone in his 
chest and inviting notes of exclamation as he made an 
auricular examination of his lungs (he was, he told us, a 
trifle phthisical to begin with), advised him that if he wanted 
to a\oid an ingrowing toe-nail he should not only cut his 
nails once a week (he had never thought of that before), 
but cut them in the Norman style of architecture with 
a dog-tooth ornament. Also, that His Majesty, out of 
the inexhaustible bounty of the Q.M.G., would present 
him with a tooth-brush which was not to be used to clean 
the buttons of his tunic. 
Then one dav an instructor took his platoon out for Ji 
walk and asked them what they saw. One of them 
modestly remarked that he saw a field ; until, greatly en- 
couraged by the instructor's reception of this bold guess, 
Hawkins distinguished himself among his platoon by 
seeing a herd of cows in it. In no long time he Could, at 
a glance, estimate the number of cows in the herd, the 
number of yards from the herd to the platoon, and the 
length of the hedge which divided the one from the other, 
until in a flash of the eye he could sum up a landscape : 
" Windmill to the left. Two poplars in the foreground. 
Cottage in the middle distance. Eight hundred." There- 
after he progressed rapidly, for he had learnt the hardest 
thing that a town-bred man learns — he had learnt to 
observe. It is a long journey from that to knowing a 
Lewis gun inside out, from body locking-pin to cocking 
handle, but Hawkins had travelled it, at first querulously, 
then with interest, and finally with enthusiasm. 
Also he had learnt that his regiment formed the body- 
guard of Pontius Pilate, that they were the finest regiment 
in the British Army, and that it was up to him, (ieorge 
Hawkins, to see that they remained what they were. 
Hawkins is a type, but he is the type not of a genus 
hut of a species, for to-day the Army is the mirror of the 
nation, and in the great republic of the ranks there are 
a hundred social species. Ortheris, Mulvaney, and 
I.earoyd — doubtless such prodigal sons are to be found 
there if you look hard for them, but they have \mdergone 
a subtle refinement by contact with the new types. I 
cannot imagine Ortheris mugging up " French and hov/ 
to speak it " in his hutment as Hawkins has done. A 
P.S.C. brigadier of my acquaintance told me early in the 
war, with a kind of proud consternation, how the greatest 
soldier of our day had taught himself French when a 
trooper, by paying another man in the troop twopence an 
hour to dic'tate Macaulay's Essays to him in a corner of the 
barrack-room, while he wrote it down in French and 
was laughed at by his comrades for his pains. My 
friend had the story from a trooper who had remained 
a trooper and long since become a time-expired man ; 
that a comrade in the ranks should take it into his 
head to learn French was so remarkable that the man 
had never forgotten it. It was to him as astounding as 
if a man had begged to be put on extra fatigues. 
To-day, there are hundreds and thousands of men in 
the ranks teaching themselves French — and many other 
things — and there is a kind of noble rivalry in learning the 
largest number of things in the shortest possible time. 
The new Army appears to have borrowed the motto of 
the A.S.C. — Nil sine laborc — conscious that if. you can get 
through your fourteen weeks' training with a heavy credit 
balance on your side, all kinds of technical promotions 
are open to you — the ballistic ecstasies of the bomber, 
the distinction of forming one of the elect six who serve 
the Lewis gun of the platoon, or maybe, even passing out 
into the machine-gun corps and waiting on a whole 
brigade to do the Brigadier's bidding. 
I once overheard a ruddy Wiltshireman on leave say 
to a group of admirers : "I used to think it wur only 
lazy blokes what went for soldjers. It's b hard 
work ; carrying sixteen of them bombs and each of 'em 
weighing one pound thirteen ounces." 
It was obvious that he " groused " at it ; it was 
equally ob\"ious that he was rather proud of his grievance. 
Some day someone will write the story of how the 
glorious reverse of Mons taught the children of England 
" the use of the bow," and raised in this country a mighty 
archery. It will be a story of much tact, infinite patience, 
and passionate devotion, of time-expired N.C.O.'s and 
invalided officers working against time to teach the man- 
hood of England the art of war and getting into fourteen 
weeks the curriculuni of three years. I-.have seen a good 
deal of that task ai^d if one thing has impressed me more 
than another, it has been the infinite tact of the C.O.'s 
in dealing with material that was sometimes sullen, often 
impatient, but rarely intractable. There was a battalion 
of Welsh miners, who after being put through the mazes 
of company drill, varied by long and dusty route-marches, 
took counsel murmurousiy together after many days, 
and under the influence of a noisy checkweigher, "decided 
to " down tools." 
" Fair play, " said one of them, " let us tell the old man 
first." 
A deputation was appointed to wait on the Colonel — 
surely the strangest interview that ever took place between 
a C.O. and his men. The Colonel was a wise man and 
discerning. He did not threaten field-punishment or a 
court-martial ; he heard them out : Then he talked to 
them— like a father. He' knew something about coal- 
mines and he spake a jiarable. I have forgotten most of 
it, but the central incident was a mining explosion in 
which a number of miners were in a tight place, beset by 
deadly fire-damp and a rescue-party was called for; 
every man wanted to go down the pit (no Welsh miner 
has ever been known to hang back in such a crisis), but 
only the very fit were chosen. 
Before he had pointed the moral they interrupted him : 
It's all right, colonel, look you. Iss indeed. Thank 
you kindly. We see it now. And when can we go 
down the pit over there ? " 
There was no more trouble. 
Even the conscientious objector has been known to 
succumb. I knew one C.O. who, confronted with one 
member of that distracting species among the new 
recruits of a reserve battalion, instructed- the sergeant 
to leave him severely alone. The' sergeant acted accord- 
ingly, but he did not consider his instructions precluded 
him from thoughtfully abstracting the civilian clothes of 
the objector while he took a bath, and leaving a suit of 
khaki in their place. There was nothing for it but to 
wear the hated raiment of " militarism." But the 
objector continued to object. Meanwhile, no one spoke 
to him. At the end of two days the C.O. sent for him. 
" Had a good breakfast ? " he asked. 
" Yes, sir," 
" Had a good dinner ? " 
" Yes, sir." 
" Any complaints ? " 
" No, sir." 
" Well now, don't you think it's playing it rather low 
to draw rations and wear His Majesty's uniform and 
leave the other fellows to do all the work ? Think it 
over," he added indulgently. 
The objector thought it over ; he was in no mood for a 
hunger-strike and he found the life of an anchorite in a 
hutment depressing. In three days he had discovered 
that there is a more sustaining thing than an individual 
conscience ; there is a social conscience. The last I 
heard of him was that he had got a corporal's stripe. 
So the work of the great Assize of Arms goes on. On 
rolling downs, sweet with wild thyme, where neolithic man 
fashioned his arrow-heads of flint and the Roman auxiliary 
cast his javelin, the youth and manhood of England are 
learning the use of the rifle and the art of the bayonet. 
Hamlets which had forgotten the exercises of war since 
the archers practised at the village butts now echo with 
the reports of musketry from the field-firing ranges on 
the chalk uplands. Soil which has not been turned 
since the last Briton was laid to sleep in his lonely barrow 
is now sculptured by the cntrenching-tool of the modern 
infantryman. Truly one generation goeth and anothtjr 
generation cometh, but the earth endureth for ever. 
But so long as this English earth endures the memory 
of this generation and its blithe spirit and the mighty 
deeds it wrought shall not pass away. 
But I have forgotten Hawkins. Two days ago the 
Major's wife sent me a letter of his of very recent date : 
" De.\r Sir, — I hope this finds, you well, as it leaves me 
at present. We were in the thick of it at a place called 
, but I'm not supposed to say where. The Huns 
didn't half get it— our platoon's Lewis gun was a fair 
treat. Being short of a pair of socks I took the liberty of 
pinching a German pair, b>;t had to make them do tlic 
goose-step first.— Yours respectfully, 
" George Hawkins." 
