THE CITIZEN SOLDIER: PAST, PRESENT AND FUTURE
by the Rev. C. Parkinson, M.A., Chaplain to the Territorial Force
Chamber's' Journal - Seventh Series (May 3rd, 1913)
The Territorial Force, its excellence and its defects - more especially its defects - is a subject which has for some time past attracted a good deal of public attention, and has furnished a considerable amount of copy for the Press. Nor is the subject an unimportant one, for upon what the Territorial Force is, and upon what it may become, depends to great extent the question of how much longer military service in this country is to remain a voluntary service, how long Britons are to decide for themselves whether the British nation shall undergo a soldier's training or not.
Rightly understood, the questions which men are asking regarding the efficiency of the Territorial Force are intimately associated with another question: Is there any possibility that this country may be invaded, either in the near or distant future, by a foreign army? Many people hear such a question asked with a smile of incredulity; that such a thing is possible is to them merely the idea of the foolish man and the alarmist. It is so long since British people have known war, except from the columns of the newspapers, that they cannot conceive the possibility that the day may come when they may see it in their midst, and may themselves be actors amid scenes of horror of which they have only read, and which certainly they do not realise.
Yet, after all, some of the most importatant events in our history are connected with the invasion of this country. We speak of our 'tight little island,' and feel as if, surrounded as we are by the sea, we were so much safer than those who have merely a land frontier. But the sea has not always availed to guard us from the incursion of a foreign foe. We ourselves, as a nation, are the product of three successful invasions: the Anglo-Saxon, the Danish, the Norman. Again, in 1588 the Spanish Armada was not looked upon as an imaginary peril by our forefathers. In 1805 the projected invasion by Napoleon was not altogether a foolish dream; and in 1859 men once more looked the possibility of a French invasion in the face. In the three cases last named no enemy indeed landed on our shores, but it was no foolish and cowardly panic which stirred the heart of Britain. Rather, it was the realisation by sober and level-headed men that what had not only been possible but had been achieved in the past, might again be possible and might be achieved again; and that modern conditions, while in some respects they made such invasion less probable, in other respects made it more possible on the part of a determined and well-prepared foe.
With such a possibility is intimately associated the history of the Volunteer movement. That whole movement in the past, and its development in the present and the future, is bound up with the belief that the invasion of this country is not an idle dream, a childish nightmare, but a dangerous possibility. The motto of our citizen army is 'Defence, not Defiance.' The members of the force cannot be sent overseas except at their own desire. And therefore the men of to-day who deride the possibility of invasion should, to be quite logical, advocate the entire abolition of the force, since its very inception and continued existence is based upon the possibility of invasion. Yet how many of those who regard invasion as a childish fear on the part of a few alarmists would be prepared calmly to see the abolition of the Territorial Force? Few indeed would be quite so rash as that.
Let us turn first of all to the past, to that period of half-a-century which separates the rise of the Volunteer movement proper from the day when by the Territorial Act of 1908, the Volunteer Force passed into the Territorial Force, with all its possibilities and all its anxieties.
It was the renewed fear of a French invasion in 1859 which gave birth to the Volunteer movement; and as we look back on those early days, whatever may be our opinion of the efficiency of the force at its inaugeration, we can have nothing but admiration for the spirit which animated its members. That spirit was purely and unselfishly patriotic. Strange as it may seem, no monetary assistance, no equipment, were provided by the Government. All had to be found by the Volunteer himself, or was procured by him from his friends.
In 1861 two great reviews took place, in Hyde Park and at Edinburgh, and in these reviews eighty thousand men took part. It was not until considerably later that any part of the burden was borne by the State, but at length uniform and equipment were provided. In 1872 the first great Volunteer Force encamped on Salisbury Plain. In many ways those days were the days of small things. While so little encouragement was given to the Volunteer movement, and while there were so many disadvantages connected with membership of the force, it was perhaps inevitable that the great prominence should be given to outward pomp and show, and that the harder and less attractive side of the work should be kept in the background. Largely associated with those days is the thought of the gay scene on the all-important review day, when admiring ladies watched their fathers, husbands, lovers, march in all their pomp and panoply past the inspecting officer to the stirring strains of martial music. And it was no wonder that this, the more showy side of Volunteer service, should be accentuated. Up to a very few years ago the force was not treated seriously by a large section of the public, particularly perhaps by that section which was glad of a plausible reason for excusing themselves from giving their own time and their own money. Criticism and ridicule were poured upon the Volunteer. Many things, no doubt, invited criticism, some things perhaps ridicule; but in reality no one had the right to laugh at or to criticise the Volunteer, except the Volunteer himself. The honour lay with him. In the face of government neglect, of public indifference, of public ridicule, he showed his patriotism by giving freely of his own time and of his money to fit himself, so far as he was allowed to do so, to defend his country in the hour of danger. We think of those days as long past, and things have altered much for the better, both within the force and in public opinion regarding it, since the South African war of 1899-1902 laid to rest forever the old taunt that the Volunteer was playing at soldiering; but up to very recent times a large portion of the force were armed with weapons more or less obsolete, weapons with which it would have been sheer madness to attempt to meet an army.
Little by little, as we trace the Volunteer from the early days, we find that the force expanded and grew in numbers and in efficiency. Annual camps and annual manoeuvres became a regular event; more and more, as time went on, did the more showy aspect give place to hard and unpicturesque work. All over the country Volunteer battalions and brigades were organised and attached to the regular forces; working hard, giving time and money freely, and not only, be it remembered, preparing for a possible time of national emergency, but helping in no mean way to stir up and foster that patriotism without which no nation may hope to hold its own in the manifold competition of the world of to-day.
Almost fifty years separate the inception of the Volunteer Force from a year memorable in the annals of voluntary military service in Britain, the year 1908. In that year there came into operation the Act of Parliament which turned the Volunteer into the Territorial. There is no need to enter in detail into the changes which have taken place under that Act. It will suffice to say that its main object was to render the force better organised and more efficient, and to bring it into closer relation to the regular forces of the Crown. We no longer speak of the regular forces and the auxiliary forces as being two entirely different and independent bodies; they are classed together as the Imperial forces.
In part, at any rate, the objects specified above have been attained. There can be no doubt that a great improvement has taken place in recent years in the quality of the citizen soldier. In organisation, in equipment, in efficiency, there is hardly any comparison between the Volunteer of half-a-century ago and the Territorial of to-day. But, after all, the important point is not, how does the citizen soldier compare with his forerunner of a different generation, but how far will he stand comparison with the men whom he may be called upon to meet on the field of battle to-day or to-morrow? To the outsider, the man who has not studied this question, the man who knows little or nothing of the actual facts, it appears to be one very difficult to answer. On the one hand he sees those who speak as if in all respects the Territorial is able to cope with any situation which may arise. He is told that the navy is the important matter, and that no enemy is ever likely to be able to effect a landing on these shores. But, if so, why have a Territoria Force at all? On the other hand are those, and among them men well qualified to judge, who would have us believe that the whole force is in a state of absolute inefficiency, unable to withstand, even for a day, any foe with whom it may come in conflict. The truth is probably to be found between these two opinions. Perfect the Territorial is not, and cannot be. The very conditions under which he serves forbit it. But neither is he quite useless; and even with his present opportunities of training, inadequate as they are, he would probably give a good account of himself in the day of battle.
But the question of numbers, of opportunity, of efficiency, is an important one; it grows more important every day. It will have to be faced in the near future more seriously than it has been faced in the past and is being faced in the present by those in authority.
Let us look, first of all, at the dangers with which we may easily be confronted. Imagine circumstances - and they are by no means impossible ones - under which this country may be faced with the alternative of war or an ignoble surrender to the threat of war; or with the necessity of helping our friends in the hour of their need, unless we would wish to stand shamed for ever in the eyes of all honourable men. At almost a moment's notice - for war comes suddenly nowadays - we are called upon to land, say, one hundred and fifty thousand men on the mainland of Europe. Our navy may be scattered over the face of the waters in all quarters of the globe, and, however strong as a whole, will certainly not be strong enough to leave an absolutely invulnerable force girdled round our shores, and at the same time ensure without any possibility of interruption the arrival of our food-supplies. Under such circumstances the country will have to depend upon the Territorial Force for immunity from invasion, or at the least for immunity from raids upon our eastern shores. The question for us is, can the Territorial Force, in its present condition, be expected to be equal to the task which will be imposed upon it?
What of its numbers? The necessity of pacifying the opponents of so-called militarism caused the requisite number of men in the force to be fixed at about three hundred thousand, though that number was undoubtedly too small. But we are already short of the number by some fifty thousand men, and the present year will probably witness a further decrease of nearly fifty thousand owing to the face that in a very large number of cases the four years' engagement is about to terminate.
What of equipment? Undoubtedly a tremendous advance has been made in this matter in recent years, and more especially in the five years which have elapsed since the inauguration of the Territorial Force; but in a great number of cases the Territorial of the present day is still armed with weapons inferior to those possessed by the men whom he would be called upon to face.
What of the training? Even allowing for the utmost energy and enthusiasm, is it possible for a minimum number of drills in the year, and fifteen days' (or in many cases only eight days') annual training, to fit men to face an army drilled to a high state of efficiency and trained in arms as regular soldiers? And how obviously futile is the assertion that though the Territorial might not be able to face highly trained soldiers at once, he would be able to do so at the close of six months' continuous training, undergone after the outbreak of hostilities! All history, and notably the events of the last few months, go to show that there would be no six months' grace allowed after the outbreak of war. War, if it comes, will be swift in its beginning, swift in its progress, swift in its end. In whatever state of efficiency or inefficiency the Territorial soldier is found on the outbreak of hostilities, in that state will he be called upon to meet the foe.
What is to be the end? There is no widom, but criminal folly, in evading or postponing the consideration of the vital questions which face us to-day. The voluntary system of military service which has been ours so long, and of which we are justly proud, is being weighed in the balance. Will it be found wanting? It is useless to discuss the point as to whether the invasion of this country is probable. It is at any rate possible; and therefore to be content with the improbability of its taking place, if indeed we could feel it to be improbable, is to trust not only our national prosperity but our very existence as an Empire to chance. No wise man, no patriotic Briton, can be content with that. If the men of Britain possess the patriotism and the self-denial to come forward in sufficient numbers; if they can be ensured such adequate training, and that without being penalised in their civil employment, that they shall be able to meet on something like equal terms the armed forces of nations who have compulsory and efficient training; if they are armed with up-to-date weapons; and if they receive from the State and from their fellow-countrymen the consideration to which they are more than fairly entitled, then the voluntary system may survive. But if these things, or some of them, cannot be, then the day must come - and may it come before it is too late - when every able-bodied Briton will be compelled by law to fit himself for what is, after all, one of the most essential and the proudest duties of citizenship - to stand for his country and his home in the hour of danger, and to take his part in ensuring that no foe sets foots on British soil.
The question should be no political one; it should be no question of personal or private self-interest, of individual ease and comfort. It is a national question, a question of national honour, of national prosperity, of national safety. Upon the finding of a right answer to this question may depend the question whether there there shall be peace or war, not only for ourselves but for the whole of Europe. Peace, indeed, every right-minded man and woman desires - peace with honour; and we may well remember the old but true adage, 'Si vis pacem, para bellum.'