were still the only schools of soldiering recognized
as giving the right "tone" to officers and gentlemen fit for high
appointment. The cavalry, above all, held the power of supreme command
in a war of machines and chemistry and national psychology....

I should hate to attack the Regular officer. His caste belonged to the
best of our blood. He was the heir to fine old traditions of courage and
leadership in battle. He was a gentleman whose touch of arrogance was
subject to a rigid code of honor which made him look to the comfort of
his men first, to the health of his horse second, to his own physical
needs last. He had the stern sense of justice of a Roman Centurian, and
his men knew that though he would not spare them punishment if guilty,
he would give them always a fair hearing, with a point in their favor,
if possible. It was in their code to take the greatest risk in time of
danger, to be scornful of death in the face of their men whatever secret
fear they had, and to be proud and jealous of the honor of the regiment.
In action men found them good to follow--better than some of the young
officers of the New Army, who had not the same traditional pride nor
the same instinct for command nor the same consideration for their men,
though more easy-going and human in sympathy.

So I salute in spirit those battalion officers of the Old Army who
fulfilled their heritage until it was overwhelmed by new forces, and
I find extenuating circumstances even in remembrance of the high
stupidities, the narrow imagination, the deep, impregnable, intolerant
ignorance of Staff College men who with their red tape and their general
orders were the inquisitors and torturers of the new armies. Tout
comprendre c'est tout pardonner. They were molded in an old system, and
could not change their cliche.

II

The New Army was called into being by Lord Kitchener and his advisers,
who adopted modern advertising methods to stir the sluggish imagination
of the masses, so that every wall in London and great cities, every
fence in rural places, was placarded with picture-posters.

... "What did you do in the Great War, Daddy?"... "What will your best
girl say if you're not in khaki?"

Those were vulgar appeals which, no doubt, stirred many simple souls,
and so were good enough. It would have been better to let the people
know more of the truth of what was happening in France and Flanders--the
truth of tragedy, instead of carefully cam