With the Indians in France

If for no other reason than for the sake of being alive to read the monumental history of Armageddon, I wish I were young again. How atomic appears one’s own humble share in the great conflict. To Britishers who looked on manœuvres at Aldershot or Salisbury Plain as something to record, as Napoleonic military feats of arms which were an insurance against all aggression, how different do matters now appear. “The Contemptible Little Army” of those days is no more, but even so, it will ever remain the lodestar for the armies to come, and the historian of the five years’ clash of the world’s arms will have material to work on such as never fell to the lot of man. What an opportunity for still closer welding together the divers races and peoples that combine to make the Empire of Great Britain.

I will here cease for a while recording facts, and deal with matters which are of interest to those who look on the Indian Corps (minute as it was in comparison) as something else besides mere congeries of soldiers to feed the guns. There are some details which may not prove uninteresting to the student of psychology.

By the end of May it was plain that the Indians needed a complete rest and sorting out, if they were to continue as a Corps. The losses in France after the May fighting had totalled up to:

In addition, 450 Indians had died from various causes. (Taken from The Indian Corps in France.)

The above included the Territorial battalions forming part of the Corps, but not the losses of Divisions or Brigades temporarily attached.

In my opinion it was useless to retain two Divisions in name without the substance, and I recommended that one strong Division with Brigades averaging 4000 rifles each should be formed, the weakest and some other named Indian battalions being turned into a Reserve Brigade from which casualties could be replaced. Also, should reinforcements prove larger than I anticipated, complete battalions could replace others, and thus give all an opportunity of sharing in the fighting. The Highland Division had just been allotted to us also, and the two combined Divisions would have formed a fine Army Corps.

I explained that as matters then stood the British battalions were doing more than their share of work in the various fights. The quality of our Indian troops had deteriorated, as we received drafts of all sorts and kinds, and the old and tried British and Indian officers had been reduced to a minimum; but with that spirit that animates the sons of Britain, the British units, without complaint, continued to give of their best (and it was of the very best). Not that I did not occasionally receive hints from the officers of both British and Indian regiments that this process could not be indefinitely continued, and they had good reason too; and although I mostly kept my counsel I never failed to impress strongly on those in higher authority, that some drastic change was absolutely necessary.

I recommended three Indian battalions being transferred from France, and gave my reasons in full. The two Divisional Commanders were in complete accord with me in these suggestions, and as a proof that they were necessary I will give a few instances of the composition of units, which those who know the Indian Army will appreciate.

The 57th Rifles (one of the best Corps in India) was at this time made up from six different units—total strength 446; the 129th Baluchis, of seven different units—total strength 263 rifles. The 9th Bhopals consisted of men from eleven different units—strength 409. I recommended that the 57th and 59th Rifles should be combined, the total strength of the latter then being 271 rifles with seven officers all told.

The 15th Sikhs, with a total strength of only 250, was suggested for combination with the 47th Sikhs; the two battalions would then have numbered 701. Think of it, after over eight months of war. The 1st Gurkhas had only three Regular officers; the 4th Gurkhas only four. In the 6th Jats only 160 of the original battalion remained.

The two battalions of the 39th Garhwal Rifles had already been amalgamated. They had both done most gallant service and proved themselves to be second to none in India. This combined corps was now short of ten Indian officers and 64 N.C.O.’s. The C.O. reported that he had “only four N.C.O.’s fit for promotion,” and “hardly a single rifleman whose education would enable him to keep a company roll!” What would some of our Solomons who came to judgement on the Indian Corps have said to this, if it had been possible to find similar conditions in two combined British battalions?

On 26th May the First Army informed me that my recommendations had met with the approval both of the G.O.C. and the Commander-in-Chief. Some alterations regarding Staff officers and others had been made, but amongst them was one, that the appointment of Officer for Press Work (Lieut.-Colonel Merewether) might be abolished when the Indian element was reduced. Now if there was one person who should certainly not be got rid of, it was this officer. India had long enough been kept in the dark regarding the doings of her soldiers, and to have abolished him would not only have finally severed all connection with that country, as far as news was concerned, but would have made it impossible to compile any detailed history of the Corps for the benefit of future generations. I strongly protested against this on behalf of the Army and people of India, and pointed out that after the loyalty shown, that country would never forgive us if any such radical step was taken. India, in point of fact, during the war sent to France alone 86,300 combatants and 48,500 non-combatants; whilst the numbers of both sent to all theatres of war totalled one million and forty thousand men. Nothing came of it, as Lord Kitchener was then arranging to replace several of the battalions by others from Egypt and elsewhere, and had telegraphed to the Government of India regarding this. Finally, before any great changes could be made, the Indian Army Corps had left France.

There is no need to string out many other modifications I proposed, and some I carried out, in the various Brigades. From this time till I left the Corps it was one continuous effort to keep things going. It was necessary to carry out tasks with the best grace we could muster, and at the same time try and satisfy the powers that were.

I began this chapter with a remark that a student of psychology might find something of interest in it. Put yourself in the place of a sepoy, say of the 9th Bhopal Infantry. He had been brought up in a regiment composed of four classes of Indians: Sikhs, Rajputs, Brahmins, and Musalmans. He had been bred to the idea that his regiment was his military home and that it was the best in the army. He had understood that no man could be compulsorily transferred to another corps. He had firmly believed that our Army was not only the best trained but best equipped in the world, and he trusted his British officers as only Indians can trust them, i.e. absolutely, implicitly. Any recruit or trained soldier who joined his battalion he knew came there of his own free will, and he could not for a moment imagine that all sorts and conditions of men, out of all sorts of outlandish districts from Cape Comorin to Peshawar and from Quetta to Assam, talking different dialects and with entirely different ideals, might one fine morning arrive with shoulder badges denoting anything from police to Raj troops, and claim, not only acquaintance, but close comradeship with him as one of the 9th Bhopals.

And yet, dumped down in the heart of Europe mid ice and snow, shot, mangled, and torn day after day, many of these things, of which he was so sanguine, were suddenly directly reversed. His old battalion and his officers still stood to him in the same relation, but he awoke to the truth that ours was by no means the best equipped Army for war; far from it. The exigencies of the time had shattered his dream. All kinds of strangers entered the ranks almost daily; all kinds of officers who did not understand him took command of his company. The promotion he had looked for in his battalion was going to outsiders; his own officers were being wiped out week by week, and his periods of leave home were nil.

He was indeed a derelict! but he still stood in his trench, his rifle ready and his loyalty unimpaired. Only one belief had not been shattered, and that was, that his family would regularly receive the small dole that was his due, and that if he died this would still continue. In this knowledge lay his contentment.

Is there not material here to ponder, for those who issued battle orders as if the whole Army was of Anglo-Saxon blood?

It was Lord Kitchener who wisely made the appointment of “Recording Officer with the Indian Corps,” and it must have been he who refused to consider his abolition under any circumstances.

On 2nd May, as on numerous other occasions, I had spent the whole day in the trenches. There alone could one understand the real life the men lived, and appreciate what they were doing. Besides, a big attack was pending, and a thorough survey of the ground to our front was necessary. The particular battalions I saw in the most advanced line this day were the 9th Gurkhas and 6th Jats. I chatted freely with the men and was struck by their eagerness to ask questions. One jawan of the Jats said: “We have been arguing as to whether there is a hill in this country: why, we had one even in my own village near Hissar (it was probably an old disused brick kiln), but although the troops who fought near Ypres in April tell me that they saw hills and valleys, I can scarcely believe it.” I told him there were plenty of high mountains on some parts of the Allied front. He said: “Then send us for a motor bus trip, and if it turns out to be so, I will give a banquet to my company when we again get a rest.” Another young Jat quickly added: “You are too generous. You need not trouble about the banquet, for that time will never arrive.” This raised a general laugh, and as I passed on I said: “You see we cannot spare the 6th Jats because the Germans are afraid to attack as long as you are up in the front trenches.” “Well said, General Sahib! now we understand,” came from several men.

The G.O.C. First Army was a very frequent visitor to our Corps Headquarters. I see in my diary over and over again how often he came to see me and discussed operations past or future. This was a great help in carrying them out, and his intimate knowledge of the maps showing our trenches, defensive posts, and situation generally, was quite astonishing. It was only one of his many fronts, but you had to be pretty quick with him, and I do not doubt that he knew as much of the front he was eventually responsible for as he did of our own short line. He has since made a world-wide name as a soldier. I wonder if he sometimes recalls the days when the Corps yclept “Indian” was under his command.

In my diary of 10th May, the day after our severe fighting at Festubert, there is an entry, “Nice letter from Viceroy.” As I have often said before in this book, Lord Hardinge never failed to write fully regarding the Indian Army. I have a big file of his letters, which as I re-read them show plainly that no man could possibly have done more to help the Corps in France.

On the 2nd June I inspected a company of the Hazaras of the 106th Pioneers, who had just arrived as a reinforcement for the 107th Pioneers. It was worth a lot to see these honest-looking men, for simple faith in the Government they served was written on their faces. A havildar whom I asked what he thought of the country said, “Every country to which the Government sends us is good.” A somewhat Oriental reply, but he looked as if he meant what he said, though he was probably wondering where he really was.

On the 7th and 8th June I saw the 69th and 89th Punjabis, just arrived from the East to replace corps leaving France. The last time I had seen the 69th was on the Malakand Pass on the road to Chitral; it was a different scene now, although the ugly village they were billeted in bore the somewhat ridiculous name of “Paradise.” They had justified their regimental motto, “By sea and land,” and they rendered good service in Flanders. This battalion was originally raised in 1764 at Madura as the 10th Battalion of Coast Sepoys, and after undergoing many changes in name and constitution, received its present designation in 1903. Ill fortune attended their arrival, for the day following, both the Second in Command, Major Copeland, and the Adjutant, Lieut. J. R. Dill, who had gone up to visit the trenches, were killed by a shell. Dill was a brother of Captain R. F. Dill, 129th Baluchis, who had behaved with such distinguished gallantry at the first battle of Ypres, and received one of the first D.S.O.’s awarded to the Indian Army in this war. They were sons of the Very Reverend Dr. Marcus Dill of Alloway Manse, Ayr, who sent four sons to the war.

The 69th bears on its colours the battle honours, amongst others, of Mysore, Ava, and Pegu.

The 89th Punjabis was raised in 1798 as the 3rd Battalion of Madras Native Infantry, and like the 69th underwent many changes of constitution until 1903, when it received its present title. The battalion served in six different theatres of the Great War. One Naik Shahmad Khan won the Victoria Cross in Mesopotamia.

Another battalion which joined the Corps later on was the 33rd Punjabis. They were raised during the Indian Mutiny of 1857 as the “Allahabad Levy,” and received various designations as Bengal Infantry. In 1903 it became the 33rd Punjabis. On its colours is shown “Burma, 1885–87.”

On the 22nd June I visited the trenches and spent the night there with the 57th Rifles. How quickly one realises in the darkness the chances of being knocked out. Even though nothing unusual occurred, so many bullets were flying about, ricochetting on every side, clattering on the tin roof of the dug-out, etc., that it was made plain at any moment any man might meet his end. And the men took it so much as a matter of fact and appeared so unconcerned. It was only the experience hundreds of thousands were going through every night, but it may be of some interest to write what I, as one humble individual of that great host, myself went through, for it just describes what occurred every day, more or less. Towards dusk it began to rain, and seeing a young officer who had to proceed to Divisional Headquarters on duty, starting without a waterproof, I offered him mine. The La Bassée-Estaires road was his shortest way, and although this was always kept under fire by the Germans, it was still a fairly possible bicycle route if you did not mind an occasional toss into a shell-hole, and was used by everybody who had urgent business. The officer returned before dawn, and in handing me back my coat said, “General, I am so sorry I have damaged it,” and on examination I found two bullet-hole marks. Small thing, no doubt, but it showed the kind of life those lived who spent their nights on that Godforsaken road.

As the evening wore on a ration party assembled outside the C.O.’s dug-out, where I was then standing. Just as they were collected, a machine-gun, evidently fired on the signal of some watcher, pumped a shower of lead into them; no one was hit, but in an instant that ration party had disappeared. Evidently it was unsafe to show a head anywhere.

About midnight I lay down for an hour’s sleep as I hoped, but hardly had I closed my eyes than a huge rat walked over my face. I jumped as if shot, with the result that I knocked my head against the supporting timber and remembered it for some days. I was fast appreciating the luxuries enjoyed by those millions of brave men who spent, not one, but hundreds of nights in this kind of inferno. But my experiences were by no means ended; the most interesting was to come.

After a night in which I saw much of my old comrades of the 57th Rifles, I proceeded at dawn to return to my headquarters, and remembering my steel-bound leg, I took the La Bassée-Estaires road, instead of the longer route by a communication trench. Not being one of those who do not mind bullets whizzing about, I soon had cause to regret it, for the Germans had apparently chosen the self-same hour to search this road with a machine-gun. My orderly, Birbal, a Naik in the 69th Punjabis and a very old friend of mine, was with me, and as we moved along for over 1000 yards we were under a most unpleasant fire which swept past us in gusts. Birbal evidently thought “out of sight out of danger,” for he insisted on opening his greatcoat wide and remaining on my weather side. I ordered him to cease his folly, but, brave fellow, he replied, “They will never see you as long as I keep this open.” None of the party of four of us either had the time or inclination to argue, and our pace, to say the least of it, was exceedingly rapid, and Birbal had his way.

At last we reached the waiting motor-car and were soon out of machine-gun range; but as we spun along towards Headquarters, I could not but realise how strange must have been the feelings of thousands of Indians who underwent similar experiences daily and did it only because they had sworn loyalty to England’s King. I also reflected for the hundredth time, how safe, ordinarily speaking, was the lot of a Corps Commander in comparison with those brave juniors who really won the war.

Sir John French, by his actions at different times during our year in France, proved his strong sympathy, even in trivial matters, with soldiers as a class. He could say a thing just in the right way to win the regard of all ranks. When he found that one of our few periods of rest behind the firing-line coincided with the Mahomedan Ramazan, he immediately let me know that he was very pleased our men had this opportunity of observing a religious duty. In the same way, when I was gazetted G.C.M.G., the Commander-in-Chief did not fail to write and congratulate me. I hope, should the great Field-Marshal ever come across this book, he will believe that whatever I may have said in no way reduces the very high esteem in which I bear him. The Indian Corps owes him a debt of gratitude for his remarks in his book, “1914.”

Several French Generals also frequently sent their congratulations and best wishes to me and the Indian Corps. The camaraderie between the French and the Indians will ever remain a precious remembrance.