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Regimental History - First World War

Lecture on Discipline,
given by

Captain Thomas James Gardner,
The King’s Own Royal Lancaster Regiment.

Thomas James Gardner was born on the 18th October 1882, he was commissioned as a 2nd Lieutenant on 12th July 1915 into the King’s Own Royal Lancaster Regiment. He joined the 1st Battalion, in France and Flanders, in October 1915 and was promoted Lieutenant on 14th September 1916.
Between 9th March 1916 and November 1919 he was seconded to the Machine Gun Corps. He rejoined the 1st Battalion of the King’s Own in December 1919 whilst they were serving in Dublin. He retired with the rank of Captain on 20th July 1921.

 


I propose today to say a few words to you on the subject of Discipline. I intend to explain to you:-
1. The meaning of the word “discipline.”
2. The light in which it is generally regarded by the civil population of this country.
3. The light in which you ought to regard it in your present capacity as soldiers.

What is discipline? Those of you who may have considered the question might say that it was the quality which distinguishes an army from an armed mob; most of you would probably say it was the system under which you suffer confinement to barracks and forfeitures of pay for slight offences against military regulations, and it is certainly true that discipline is, to some extent concerned with the punishment of offenders, but an army whose discipline is maintained by fear of punishment is in a rotten and unhealthy state. Discipline is rather, I should say, that quality in an army which inspires all of its individual members to act for the common good rather than in their own interests or – to put it colloquially “to play the game” rather then to play each man for his own hand. You all know that when you are playing at football, cricket or hockey, it is the business of each one of you not to play to the gallery for your own glorification, but to play you best for the benefit of your side in the place assigned to you by the captain of your team. No matter whether that place is one where you can distinguish yourself by brilliant runs and shots at the enemy’s goal or whether it is one where you are obliged to keep quietly in the background for the defence of your own goal, no matter whether the captain of your eleven selects you to bowl and so gives you the chance of taking wickets and of seeing your name in the newspapers, or whether he places you in some out of the way corner of the field where you are lucky if you get a few balls to go after, it is your duty always to display the same amount of zeal and always to pay the same amount of attention to the game. Only if you all try your hardest can you hope to win and to come out of the match ranking as the better side.

Now it is a sense of discipline within you which prompts you to do this in blind obedience to the wishes of your Captain, whom once off the playing field you probably treat just as an equal. You instinctively recognize that, to win the game you must for the time being bow to his will without demur. If each and everyone of you were to try and “run the show” besides the Captain, you know without being told, that your whole side would almost certainly come to grief. As long as the game lasts you have to control your own thoughts and feelings and check your own desires, you have to resist the temptation of gaining distinction for yourselves at the risk of injury to your side. For the moment you give up your own freedom of thought and action and make yourselves the willing tools of another, that is you submit to discipline.

You have perhaps not looked at the matter in this light before, but I am sure that every man who had been to a British school – no matter whether it be a public school, a Grammar School, an Elementary School, or indeed any other educational establishment, will at once recognise the value of such discipline in games, and would, readily submit to it again.

Discipline is, strictly speaking, of two kinds which are closely allied to one another, viz., “individual” or “personal” discipline and “collective” discipline; individual or personal discipline is that which we commonly call self-control. it is the quality which enables a man to gain victories over himself – and very hard-won victories they often are too. No man yet ever passed through life without having to fight against his own lower nature, without feeling within himself the struggles between his conscience and his baser instincts, but the exact nature and degree of those struggles depends upon his temperament, his character, and on the surroundings in which he lives, and in which he was brought up. The inward struggle of individuals differs as much as individuals themselves. One man has a violent temper to control, another has to complete with inborn laziness and want of energy, a third has to overcome his cowardly nature which leads him to seek refuge in dishonest actions such as telling falsehoods, a fourth has to defeat an almost irresistible craving for drink. In all these cases there must always be a struggle between a man’s higher and lower self. He knows he is about to do wrong, and it depends upon his personal discipline, on his self-control, whether he will resist the evil or not. But there are other cases in which we are not nearly so conscious of the wrong we are doing or of that which we are about to do. A man, for instance, who is in the habit of using bad language utters the words without a thought, probably even without knowing it, and almost invariably without meaning anything. Swearing is, however, due to nothing else but a want of self-control, and, like all other bad habits, it grows up if it be not nipped in the bud.

Now all of this may sound to you very much like a sermon, but I was obliged briefly to refer to these matters in order to show you what I meant by personal discipline, and I think you will now readily appreciate its value so far as individual men are concerned. The effects of personal discipline, however extend beyond the individual and often bring a powerful influence to bear upon those around us, for it is certain that only he who can control himself can ever fully control others, just as only he who has confidence in himself can ever expect others to have confidence in him. Again, it is obvious that if a man be accustomed always to keep himself under strict control, it becomes easier for him to submit to control exercised by law over the community to which he belongs. This brings me to collective discipline to which I have already made allusion and which I briefly defined as being that quality in an army which inspires all its individual members to act for the common good rather than in their own interests.

Now, does collective discipline, so defined, exist in armies alone, or does it also exist in great civil communities and, if so, to what extent? I have already mentioned discipline in games, the importance of which is so fully realised by everyone who has ever been a British schoolboy, and the existence of which proves that there is undoubtedly a certain sense of collective discipline even in civilians, but I fear that true collective discipline is a thing little understood, little known and little practised by the civil population of this country. They seem to look upon it as almost degrading for a full grown man to have to submit to discipline, they consider it an interference with what they call “the liberty of the subject.” and I firmly believe that the prevalence of this view amongst the British public is to some extent responsible for the difficulty we had in obtaining sufficient recruits for our voluntary army. I have never been able quite to understand this popular attitude, it seems to me strange that men who are so ready to put up with discipline where other and more important matters are at stake. It is because in the one case the necessity for discipline is so obvious that they take it as a matter of course and have ceased to think of it at all, whilst in the other their inability or unwillingness to think far enough prevents their realizing the benefits which true collective discipline would confer on the Nation and on the Empire? Or is it – and this seems most likely – because in their every day work, in their daily struggle for existence, where it is a case of each man for himself, they have forgotten the discipline of their schoolboy days, and have lost the power of subordinating personal interests to the interest of the community?

Let us examine this last question a little more closely. The large majority of young civilians leave school and school discipline at a comparatively early age. They enter some factory, some office, or are appointed to learn some trade, and then their struggle for existence begins. Competition in considerable, living is expensive, and so the youth of the people is often hard put to it from the first to make both ends meet. He soon realises that it is a case of the survival of the fittest, and that he must do all he can to keep his head above water; he perhaps gets little or no help from home, and he is thrown almost entirely upon his own resources. Small wonder then if he becomes selfish, and if in all things his thoughts are of only gaining as much as he can for himself and himself alone. Later on he marries, he has others to provide for, and the struggle becomes severer still, but even if he has been successful in his labours and has assured for himself a position in which he can live in comparative comfort he has probably been obliged to go through many years of hard unremitting and necessarily selfish work. We cannot, therefore, be altogether surprised if he has lost that power of striving for the welfare of the whole, that sense of self-sacrifice, which animated him when playing for his side as a schoolboy, and if his thoughts of his duty towards his country are few and far between. The case of the well-to-do classes is similar but though their sons are longer subject to school discipline and are imbued with the excellent spirit engendered by our large public school and universities, even they do not seem to appreciate to the full the value of national discipline, of self-sacrifice for the common good and the welfare of the Empire. In short, the conditions in which our great civil population lives lead to selfishness amongst all classes, and to short sightedness in almost all matters other than those with personal gain. Sudden outbursts of even the most fanatical courage and patriotism can rarely, if ever, avail against careful, scientific, and deliberate preparation for war. A nation must makes its sacrifices, it must practise self-denial, and submit to discipline for many years before it can take up arms with any hope of success against a foe who has made the science of war the object of his serious thought and study, and so also do individual soldiers and officers require years to learn their duties before they can possibly be of real value against a well trained enemy. This the British people cannot understand, they cannot realise that the profession of arms requires as much serious attention as any other. They think that a soldier has little or nothing to learn besides the use of his own rifle. Soldiering looks so simple, they consider that anyone ought to be able to become an efficient soldier by spending an evening or two in a drill hall every week, by firing a few dozen rounds at the butts annually, and by attending a seven days camp once a year. But do any of those who hold this view really believe that they could become even moderately efficient subordinates in any other trade or profession were they to treat it in an similarly light-hearted way? I think not. Again, the civilian frequently cannot understand the need for drill and so-called “barrack square movements” or their importance in relation to discipline. He will tell you that rigid discipline, absolute submission to the will of another, and the machine-like precision required by “drill,” all tend to kill the spirit of enterprise in the soldier, to destroy his individuality and to hamper him in the use of his own intellect. People who talk in this way cannot but have a very poor conception of what military training really means. They frequently insinuate that “smartness” and perfection in drill are the principal ends aimed at by officers, but I am convinced that no officer has ever admitted these to be more than a mans to an end. It is no doubt true that, especially during long periods of peace, “drill” has, at times, been overdone particularly in countries where facilities for the higher branches of military training were few, but this is no reason why we should now fly to the opposite extreme and pay too little attention to smartness and precision. We must never forget that men who are not absolutely under control when within range of an officer’s voice and vision on a level barrack square will be quite out of hand when spread over undulating, overgrown country in the face of an enemy. Clockwork precision on the barrack square is the first and most essential preliminary to intelligent co-operation on the field of battle.

Much more might be said on this subject, but I must not wander too far from my point. The few brief and incomplete remarks I have made will suffice to prove to you that true collective discipline does not exist to any appreciable extent amongst the civil population of the United Kingdom and that they do not understand the value of the timely, careful, and complete preparation for war.

Now perhaps some of you may be wondering why I have dealt with this side of question at all; you may be asking yourselves why I have thus pointed out to you the shortcomings of the civilians whose ranks so many of you have only just left. My object was not to put you out of love with your fellow-countrymen, I wished primarily to impress upon you the magnitude of the responsibility which their attitude towards military services throws upon your shoulders. I want you to appreciate to the full the fact that it lies with you and your comrades in the Navy and Army to supply that in which the Nation as a whole is deficient. The few must make good the defects of the many, therefore the qualities of the few must be of very high order indeed. You may think you are being set an impossible task, perhaps you are, but you must nevertheless strain every nerve to perform the impossible so that at least the best possible is achieved. My second object was to lead up to what I may call the “point” of my whole lecture, viz.: The light in which you, in your present capacity as soldiers, should henceforth regard discipline. First of all, cast aside for ever the old popular prejudice that discipline is something to be feared and disliked. Look upon it instead as something to be proud of, as something which raises you far above the level of all men who do not belong to the Army, just as law and order in a civilized community raise that community far above the level of a nation of savages. In your civilian days most of you were too young to think seriously of social problems, but everyone of you was surely able to realise the benefits which law and order confer upon this country, and when you hear the words “law and order” from me now, your first thoughts are not of the punishment such as fines and imprisonment – which might have been inflicted upon you had you broken the law. You think first of the law as being that which enabled you to live in peace and follow your calling unmolested whilst your homes and property were protected. Why then, when you hear the word “discipline,” should you think of confinement to barracks and forfeitures of pay which you may have to suffer if you infringe military regulations? Punishment is undoubtedly frequently necessary, for even the best of horse occasionally requires the spur, but fear of punishment alone is a very poor foundation for military discipline which, to be perfect, should be submitted to readily and voluntarily by all. Try and learn the value of discipline in the fullest and highest sense of the word, try and acquire sufficient strength of will to perform conscientiously and well every single duty however seemingly small and unimportant it may be.

Practise self-control in all things and at all times, for instance, even when you are only standing at attention on the barrack square. You learned to stand almost before you learned anything else, and yet how often have you been “pulled up” during the last few weeks for not standing absolutely still, and so proving that you were unable to control yourselves even for a few minutes. To many it may appear ridiculous in the extreme for an officer to reprimand or perhaps even to punish a soldier for not standing still. “What on earth does it matter,” they would say, “if a soldier moves his hand or his head in the ranks? Why do you waste so much time over such absurdities? They can only be for show purposes, and men will not fight better for them. Why should you worry men by treating them in such a childish fashion. It is little short of madness.” All that may be very well in its way, but there is method in such madness all the same. Nobody wants to worry men, and the British Army has proved often enough that it does not exist for show. It is no pleasure to officers of N.C.O.’s to have to find fault and check the smallest wrong-doings, but checked they must be, especially in young soldiers, in self-control and a sense of discipline are to be developed in them. Men must learn to concentrate their attention on small, simple matters before they can be expected to do so in more difficult circumstances.

No half-trained or half-disciplined troops will ever do what they did in those piping times of peace, nor will they ever do what such men will do cheerfully and readily in the hard and bloody school of war, and after all, it is for war and war alone that soldiers exist.

This may be a very self-evident truth, but it is one well worth remembering and pondering over at times. In the monotony of daily routines some men are apt to find their work dull and irksome, and I speak from experience, it certainly is not highly interesting or amusing to do a couple of hours sentry-duty on a cold, wet night. Again, to some few soldiers and to a large majority of civilians much of the work we do appears unproductive because there is little or nothing to show when it is finished and because it brings in no immediate return either in kind or money. “But what influence can I have on the moral force of the people? I am only one man amongst many millions in the Nation, and only one amongst some hundreds of thousands in the British Army.” Quite so, but you are nevertheless an integral part of both the Nation and the Army, you are one complete stone in the great edifice, and it is your duty to see to it that you are hard and sound. The work you do may seem insignificant and useless, but remember that it is nevertheless a part of the sum total of work that has to be done and, as soldiers, remember all of you that every atom of your work is some sort of preparation for the bloody game of war, that life and death struggle between Nations, so little understood by those of you fellow countrymen whom you have left behind in civil life. No matter how unimportant a duty may appear, do it to the best of your power, back up your No. 1 in the running of his sub-section, and your captain in the running of his company so that he may have full confidence in you. Groom yourselves thoroughly, make your equipment and rifles glitter and shine, do your picquet and sentry duties as though the lives of others depended upon your vigilance, aim your rifles accurately, much may depend on the flight of the bullet. It was one single well-aimed bullet that killed Lord Nelson, and deprived Great Britain of one of the finest public servants she has ever had. In short, pay the utmost attention to every little detail. Learn as much as you can from your superiors, they are only too willing to teach and help you; and stand by each other as soldiers should. Be truthful and obey readily and willingly but without servility which is unworthy of a Britisher. Strive each and everyone of you to become a sound and useful part of the whole. Remember that you wear the King’s uniform. Practise “discipline” in the fullest and highest sense of the word, it will raise you far above the level of ordinary men, and it will enable you to maintain the high reputation of The Machine Gun Corps and of the Army.

Remember that there is but one object in the whole of the long and complicated process of your training. It is to teach you to be ready to kill, kill quickly, and to be ready to kill again.

 


Lecture on Discipline given by Captain T J Gardner, The King’s Own Regiment. Circa 1917 when Gardner was attached to the Machine Gun Corps.
Accession Number: KO2946/04

 

 

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