Who dares put our regiments to the sword?
The scrapping of historic regimental names as part of defence cuts is a senseless body blow to the Army.
At the Battle of Dettingen in 1743, Sir Andrew Agnew of the Royal Scots Fusiliers developed a new tactic based on the courage of his men. Instead of standing to face a cavalry charge, as was the norm, they would create a gap to allow the enemy in. They would then close again to destroy the surrounded foe.
When the test came, it was the elite French Maison du Roi they faced. Later in the day, King George II, who commanded the Army, rode up and said: “So, Sir Andrew, I hear the cuirassiers rode through your regiment today.” “Oh aye, yer Majestee,” was the reply, “but they dinna get oot again.” Such courage could only be expected from men who knew and trusted each other.
The news that historic regimental names are to disappear thanks to the Government’s controversial defence cuts, along with at least one infantry battalion, ends a process that began under Labour to move towards a more European army system. Today, Sir Andrew’s regiment has been swallowed by one of the new “super regiments”, the Royal Regiment of Scotland, whose battalions retain a name recalling the old system, such as 3rd Battalion “The Black Watch”. The officers and men cycle through on a career and convenience basis; highlanders with lowlanders, Glaswegians mixed with Edinburgh men, but at least the name is there to stir memories of glory. Now that is also to end.
To many in politics, and particularly on the Left, the county regiment system smacked of privilege, largely because the method by which we, on these islands, have raised fighting forces for a thousand years was outside state control. There was a unique mix of the sons of the gentry – and the Royal family – subsumed into an organisation with the sons of the middle classes, working classes and the poorest immigrants, all bound together by a badge for which they would die. But their success, often in the face of overwhelming odds, was down to banding together like Sir Andrew’s men in a manner no conscript could ever be taught.
In my own regiment, the Royal Irish, this feeling of clan identity is important: men would rather die than be thought of as shirkers. When one of my soldiers expressed doubt about crossing the border into Iraq in March 2003, I agreed it might be better for him to remain behind. I had already said that I wanted no man by my side who did not want to be there. With Sir Colin Campbell’s threat at Sevastopol to “post the name of any man that ran on the door of his kirk” in mind, I warned the men that it would be on their mothers queuing at the Co-op that the real shame would fall. It was the soldier’s brother and his friends in the battalion who insisted that he go, to protect the regiment and the family’s honour; one and the same. And so he went.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/ukne...the-sword.html
The scrapping of historic regimental names as part of defence cuts is a senseless body blow to the Army.
At the Battle of Dettingen in 1743, Sir Andrew Agnew of the Royal Scots Fusiliers developed a new tactic based on the courage of his men. Instead of standing to face a cavalry charge, as was the norm, they would create a gap to allow the enemy in. They would then close again to destroy the surrounded foe.
When the test came, it was the elite French Maison du Roi they faced. Later in the day, King George II, who commanded the Army, rode up and said: “So, Sir Andrew, I hear the cuirassiers rode through your regiment today.” “Oh aye, yer Majestee,” was the reply, “but they dinna get oot again.” Such courage could only be expected from men who knew and trusted each other.
The news that historic regimental names are to disappear thanks to the Government’s controversial defence cuts, along with at least one infantry battalion, ends a process that began under Labour to move towards a more European army system. Today, Sir Andrew’s regiment has been swallowed by one of the new “super regiments”, the Royal Regiment of Scotland, whose battalions retain a name recalling the old system, such as 3rd Battalion “The Black Watch”. The officers and men cycle through on a career and convenience basis; highlanders with lowlanders, Glaswegians mixed with Edinburgh men, but at least the name is there to stir memories of glory. Now that is also to end.
To many in politics, and particularly on the Left, the county regiment system smacked of privilege, largely because the method by which we, on these islands, have raised fighting forces for a thousand years was outside state control. There was a unique mix of the sons of the gentry – and the Royal family – subsumed into an organisation with the sons of the middle classes, working classes and the poorest immigrants, all bound together by a badge for which they would die. But their success, often in the face of overwhelming odds, was down to banding together like Sir Andrew’s men in a manner no conscript could ever be taught.
In my own regiment, the Royal Irish, this feeling of clan identity is important: men would rather die than be thought of as shirkers. When one of my soldiers expressed doubt about crossing the border into Iraq in March 2003, I agreed it might be better for him to remain behind. I had already said that I wanted no man by my side who did not want to be there. With Sir Colin Campbell’s threat at Sevastopol to “post the name of any man that ran on the door of his kirk” in mind, I warned the men that it would be on their mothers queuing at the Co-op that the real shame would fall. It was the soldier’s brother and his friends in the battalion who insisted that he go, to protect the regiment and the family’s honour; one and the same. And so he went.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/ukne...the-sword.html
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