12 OCTOBER 1985, Page 39

In the teeth of defeat

Philip Warner

THE OXFORD BOOK OF MILITARY ANECDOTES edited by Max Hastings

Oxford University Press, £9.50

To compile a readable and representa- tive anthology of military anecdotes is a task which anyone might think daunting and many might say was impossible. Nevertheless, it has been done here, with great skill and discernment. In addition, the book is an entity. Many anthologies are scrappy and discursive, excellent for bed- side reading, but really nothing more than light entertainment. Coherent anthologies of the subject are extremely rare. This is one of them.

It begins with anecdotes from the Bible and the classics which most of us half- remember from our schooldays and finishes in the Falklands where the comp- iler had a front-row view. Mingled with the more familiar sources are unexpected ones: Cadet Dostoevski, Corporal William Cobbett and Private Frank Richards. And for those whose daily reading does not include Herodotus, Livy, Xenophon, and Su-Ma Chi'en, there is much to serve as comment on current events.

The concept of chivalry certainly ex- isted, but was not universally practised; it had peculiar interpretations. When Ber- trand du Guesclin, Constable of France in 1370 and described by St Palaye as `the flower of chivalry', had taken a number of English prisoners, he could not decide which of his men should possess them (and perhaps their ransoms). Not wishing to be unfair to anyone, he massacred them all.

The most horrific fate was to be left badly wounded on a battlefield. Looting the dead or the helpless was a habit practised by both sides. Bodies were strip- ped of valuables, even clothes. Sometimes the battlefield ghouls fought each other for the spoils, often killing each other in the process. After the soldiers had left, peasants moved in. Teeth were sold to dentists. 'Such a haul was made from the field of Waterloo that dentures for years afterwards were called Waterloo-teeth.'

The price of survival in India was con- stant vigilance. John Nicholson heard from a spy that the soup for the Movable Column had been poisoned. He sent for the cooks and suggested they tasted it. They refused to do so on grounds of caste. He gave some to a monkey and it died quickly. 'A few moments later,' he re- ported, `our regimental cooks were ornamenting a neighbouring tree.'

There are remarkable characters, not least Colonel Fred Burnaby, often de- scribed as 'the bravest man in the world'.

In appearance he was most un-British; he had a swarthy complexion and stood six feet four inches in height. He had a high, thin voice and a 46-inch chest. In his youth he was thought to be the strongest man in Europe and he is said to have carried a small pony under his arm.

A linguist, he spoke French, German, Spanish, Russian, Italian and some Tur- kish. He had once stood for Parliament. He had made 19 balloon ascents and had crossed the Channel. Almost as re- nowned, though in a somewhat different way, was Colonel Brabazon, a brave, elegant but somewhat unworldly officer. `Of the stationmaster at Aldershot he `We seem to have built-in obsolescence.' enquired on one occasion in later years: "Where is the London twain?" "It's gone, Colonel." "Gone! Bwing another."' Some of the people mentioned had, or would achieve, fame in other spheres than military ones. Thus:

The first intimation we had was when Charlie Broon, our company runner, came into our billet [the 6th Royal Scots Fusiliers, Decem- ber 1916]. 'We're getting a new CO. Some fella ca'd Churchill.' I asked if it was the ex First Lord of the Admiralty, the ex Home Secretary, the MP for my home town of Dundee. `Aw Ah ken is that he's ca'd Churchill.'

We took over the sector to the right of `Plugstreer Wood in early February. It had always been regarded as one of the 'cushy' sections of the front. But with the coming of Churchill it was soon evident that the live and let live atmosphere that had always prevailed here was coming to an end.

He visited the front line daily and nightly. He went on lone reconnaissance missions in 'no-man's land'. We often got the order: 'Pass it along — no firing. The CO's out in front.' In the fire bays he scrutinised every man, and sometimes questioned them.

Another Lieut. Colonel was equally brave, very highly educated, expert in ancient languages and all forms of art and literature. Driving a vehicle was a chal- lenge which he accepted with an enthu- siasm his travelling companions rarely shared: found I simply could not relax when the Professor was driving. Indeed it was more tiring to watch than to drive myself.'

After the war the Professor, now an MP, took up hunting. Several heavy falls merely stimulated his keenness. His name is given in a footnote but most readers will have guessed it.

When not killing or being killed the British infantryman took a relaxed attitude to unexpected events. John Verney, having escaped from an Italian POW camp, walked into a British outpost:

Neither of the soldiers was much surprised by this sudden entry of what was to all appearances a dark and bearded Italian who spoke fluent English with a BBC accent. Sensibly enough they were more interested in breakfast.

'What are you? Escaped POW or some- thing?'

'Yes.'

It didn't cause much of a sensation and they asked no more questions. They treated me as they might have treated a stray dog, with a sort of cheery kindness and no fuss. In a few minutes I was sitting before their fire, drinking a cup of char and feeling the warmth return to my numbed body.

A corporal and others of the section came in for their breakfast. 'Bloke's an escaped POW,' Noddy explained.

`Lucky sod, they'll send you home,' the Corporal said, offering me a Players.

'Ginger, go and swipe some clothes for him off the CQMS's truck,' the Corporal said to one of the men.

'Do you think the CAMS can spare me something?'

'The CQMS won't know.' Ginger winked as he left the room. Certainly I was back with the British army all right.