Blue Shirt and Khaki: A Comparison. James F. J. Archibald

commanding the army, and for pay which, including ration and clothing allowance, a portion of which thrifty men can commute into cash, amounts to at least one dollar a day, and from that up to three dollars and a half a day, together with twenty per cent. increase on all pay for active service. The American government provides that the paymaster shall take charge of any funds that the men do not wish to draw, and it pays a high rate of interest on these deposits. Thus, large numbers of our men have saved several thousand dollars out of their pay, and yet have lived well and had money to spend all the time.

      The chief spur, however, that acts on the enlisted man in the army of the United States is not the money, but the possibility that some day he may become an officer. To commission an officer from the ranks in the British army is almost unheard of; while, on the contrary, a large number of the American non-commissioned officers and men receive their straps every year. The one thing that I could never make an English officer understand was that it is possible for our government to commission men from the ranks. They could appreciate how these men might be fully qualified as to their military knowledge, but they could not comprehend how it would be possible for the West Pointer to associate with them or to meet them on an equal footing in society. They could not understand that many of the men in the ranks are in the same station in life as are the West Point graduates. That social possibility is the result of different conditions. Many officers’ sons who wish to follow in the footsteps of their fathers are not fortunate enough to obtain an appointment to the Academy; these boys always enlist, and, to the credit of our government, they rarely fail to get a commission if they can qualify in the examinations.

      British recruits at fencing practice.

      British recruits at bayonet practice.

      Moreover, the breeding as well as the intelligence of many of the men accepted for enlistment is of the same kind that is required of the applicants at West Point. In an army where every recruit must be able at least to read and write, it is impossible to find, even among the colored troops, any of that low-bred class of men which exists in large numbers in the British army. Before the war with Spain, when the army was on a peace footing, there were about five applicants for every vacancy; consequently the recruiting officer could choose with care, and an exceptionally high class of men entered the regular army.

      It is a rare circumstance that puts a gentle-born Englishman into the ranks, and the discredit he suffers for enlisting is deep indeed; for soldiers and servants in England stand on the same footing. In the continental nations of Europe soldiering, while it is disliked, is considered as a matter of course, because it is compulsory upon all men to serve. But in England, where the service is voluntary, the private rank is not a nice place for the upper classes.

      In New York, in Boston, in Chicago, it is not impossible to see the private’s blouse at a tea function or across the table at dinner, in the most refined society; after the instant’s surprise at seeing the insignia of the common soldier, it is remembered that he is present in his own right, irrespective of uniform, and he is admired for his unostentatious service of the flag.

      Once a charming Larchmont belle told me, with the greatest pride, that she had a brother who was a soldier, and she showed me his picture. There were no straps on the shoulders, and the collar of his blouse was turned down.

      “He is a private in the Seventh Artillery,” she said; “regulars, you know; and some day he will be an officer.”

      “Some day ... an officer” tells the whole story; it indicates one of the vital differences between the British and the American soldier. When the former enlists in the army, he knows he will never get beyond a “non-com.;” while many of those who cast in their lot with the United States forces, do so with the anticipation that eventually they may hold the President’s commission.

      At the outbreak of the South African War I met a young Englishman in London who was bubbling over with patriotic enthusiasm, and whose fixed idea was to go to the war, and to go quickly before it was over; but he told me that he had almost given up all hope of getting there, as he had exhausted every possible means of accomplishing his desire. He had been to the War Office to see every one, from Sir Evelyn Wood down; and although he was a relative of the Duke of Devonshire, and swung a great deal of influence, he could not make it; and yet he said that he “simply must go.”

      “If you really want to go so much, why do you not enlist?” I asked.

      “What! go as a Tommy?” he exclaimed; “why, I could not do that.” And, as a matter of fact, he could not, since the feeling against such a course is so strong that even in time of war it would not be countenanced by his social judges. I saw him again in the later months of the war, and he had attained his desire by going to the Cape on his own responsibility and recruiting a troop of colonials, afterwards receiving a commission to command it.

      There are instances where men of social standing have enlisted in the British army, but they are very rare in comparison with those of the same class who answered the President’s call to arms at the beginning of the war with Spain; men who joined not only the volunteer branches of the American army, but who enlisted in large number as privates in the regular service.

      General Hector Macdonald is an interesting exception in the British system. He rose from the ranks, and is to-day one of the best officers of the generals’ staff, and is loved, feared, and respected by his men.

      For these various reasons it is easy to see why the personnel of the rank and file of the American army is much higher than that of the British. This is conspicuously true in the matter of mental attainments. In our army it is rare to find a man who is not fairly well educated, while the majority of the men in the ranks are considerably enlightened. There is not one illiterate man in the whole enlisted force.

      On the other hand, the British army is dismally low in its standard of literacy. In the official report published in 1899, the illiterateness of the recruits receives scathing comment; only forty-five in one thousand were fairly educated; eighteen per cent. were utterly illiterate.

      The same attractions tend to secure for the American army a larger proportion of healthy applicants than apply for admission in the British service. The official report which I have just quoted also states that thirty-five per cent. of all applicants for enlistment in the British army have to be rejected for physical disability.

      In treating this subject before the United Service Institution in London, in 1899, Colonel Douglas, of the Royal service, described the recruits from the north, or country districts, as “sallow, downcast, nondescript youths, mostly artisans.” Regarding the recruits in general, he said: “It is significant that a good set of teeth is rare, except among the agricultural recruits. The old recruiting sergeant would have laughed at the recruits of to-day; the army of the past had in it many blackguards, but few degenerates. These are depressing conclusions, but it must be remembered that this refers to our peace army, which is recruited from the half-starved offscourings of the streets. The physique of the men who are offering themselves to-day, in time of war, is very different from this. There are shoals of Englishmen who cannot stand the drudgery and discipline of the ranks in time of peace, but who flock to the standard as soon as there is a chance of fighting. The recruiting sergeants say that nearly all of the material they are getting at present is of a better class. These men want to fight for the love of fighting, and not as a refuge from starvation. A few weeks of training licks them into shape. As long as the outbreak of war affords such a stimulus to recruiting as this, there is no need to despair of the British race.”

      But as conditions now exist in both countries, England has much more difficulty in filling her ranks in time of peace than is encountered here. Her army is vastly larger than ours, and its attractions are vastly inferior. There is, accordingly, no ground for surprise that both in mental attainments and soundness of body the American recruit is measured by a higher standard; and it is not strange that the British government has such trouble in persuading enough men to enter the ranks that almost any sort of able-bodied man would be accepted. Most of the field musicians