MEMORANDUM ON INFANTRY FIRE [Written in 1869 (Editor's note)]

1. Introduction

It may be said that the history of the development of infantry fire is none too plain, even though fire action to-day, in Europe, is almost the sole means of destruction used by that arm.

Napoleon said, "The only method of fire to be used in war is fire at will." Yet after such a plain statement by one who knew, there is a tendency to-day to make fire at command the basis of infantry battle tactics.

Is this correct? Experience only can determine. Experience is gained; but nothing, especially in the trade of war, is sooner forgotten than experience. So many fine things can be done, beautiful maneuvers executed, ingenious combat methods invented in the confines of an office or on the maneuver ground. Nevertheless let us try to hold to facts.

Let us consider, in the study of any kind of fire, a succinct history of small arms; let us see what kind of fire is used with each weapon, attempting at the same time to separate that which has actually happened from the written account.

2. Succinct History of the Development of Small Arms, from the Arquebus to Our Rifle

The arquebus in use before the invention of powder gave the general design to fire arms. The arquebus marks then the transition from the mechanically thrown missile to the bullet.

The tube was kept to direct the projectile, and the bow and string were replaced by a powder chamber and ignition apparatus.

This made a weapon, very simple, light and easy to charge; but the small caliber ball thrown from a very short barrel, gave penetration only at short distances.

The barrel was lengthened, the caliber increased, and a more efficient, but a less convenient arm resulted. It was indeed impossible to hold the weapon in aiming position and withstand the recoil at the moment of firing.

To lessen recoil there was attached to the bottom of the barrel a hook to catch on a fixed object at the moment of discharge. This was called a hook arquebus.

But the hook could only be used under certain circumstances. To give the arm a point of support on the body, the stock was lengthened and inclined to permit sighting. This was the petrinal or poitrinal. The soldier had in addition a forked support for the barrel.

In the musket, which followed, the stock was again modified and held against the shoulder. Further the firing mechanism was improved.

The arm had been fired by a lighted match; but with the musket, the arm becoming lighter and more portable, there came the serpentine lock, the match-lock, then the wheel-lock, finally the Spanish lock and the flint-lock.

The adoption of the flint-lock and the bayonet produced the rifle, which Napoleon regarded as the most powerful weapon that man possesses.

But the rifle in its primitive state had defects. Loading was slow; it was inaccurate, and under some circumstances it could not be fired.

How were these defects remedied?

As to the loading weakness, Gustavus Adolphus, understanding the influence on morale of rapid loading and the greater destruction caused by the more rapid fire, invented the cartridge for muskets. Frederick, or some one of his time, the name marks the period, replaced wooden by cylindrical iron ramrods. To prime more quickly a conical funnel allowed the powder to pass from the barrel into the firing-pan. These two last improvements saved time in two ways, in priming and in loading. But it was the adoption of the breech-loader that brought the greatest increase in rapidity of fire.

These successive improvements of the weapon, all tending to increase the rapidity of fire, mark the most remarkable military periods of modern times:

Accuracy was sacrificed to rapidity of fire. This will be explained later. Only in our day has the general use of rifling and of elongated projectiles brought accuracy to the highest point. In our times, also, the use of fulminate has assured fire under all conditions.

We have noted briefly the successive improvements in fire arms, from the arquebus to the rifle.

Have the methods of employment made the same progress?

3. Progressive Introduction of Fire-Arms Into the Armament of the Infantryman

The revolution brought about by powder, not in the art of war but in that of combat, came gradually. It developed along with the improvement of fire arms. Those arms gradually became those of the infantryman.

Thus, under Francis I, the proportion of infantrymen carrying fire arms to those armed with pikes was one to three or four.

At the time of the wars of religion arquebusiers and pikemen were about equal in number.

Under Louis XIII, in 1643, there were two fire-arms to one pike; in the war of 1688, four to one; finally pikes disappeared.

At first men with fire-arms were independent of other combatants, and functioned like light troops in earlier days.

Later the pikes and the muskets were united in constituent elements of army corps.

The most usual formation was pikes in the center, muskets on the wings.

Sometimes the pikemen were in the center of their respective companies, which were abreast.

Or, half the musketeers might be in front of the pikemen, half behind. Or again, all the musketeers might be behind the kneeling pikemen. In these last two cases fire covered the whole front.

Finally pike and musket might alternate.

These combinations are found in treatises on tactics. But we do not know, by actual examples, how they worked in battle, nor even whether all were actually employed.

4. The Classes of Fire Employed With Each Weapon

When originally some of the infantry were armed with the long and heavy arquebus in its primitive state, the feebleness of their fire caused Montaigne to say, certainly on military authority, "The arms have so little effect, except on the ears, that their use will be discontinued." Research is necessary to find any mention of their use in the battles of that period. 47

However we find a valuable piece of information in BrantÔme, writing of the battle of Pavia.

"The Marquis de Pescani won the battle of Pavia with Spanish arquebusiers, in an irregular defiance of all regulation and tradition by employing a new formation. Fifteen hundred arquebusiers, the ablest, the most experienced, the cleverest, above all the most agile and devoted, were selected by the Marquis de Pescani, instructed by him on new lines, and practiced for a long time. They scattered by squads over the battlefield, turning, leaping from one place to another with great speed, and thus escaped the cavalry charge. By this new method of fighting, unusual, astonishing, cruel and unworthy, these arquebusiers greatly hampered the operations of the French cavalry, who were completely lost. For they, joined together and in mass, were brought to earth by these few brave and able arquebusiers. This irregular and new method of fighting is more easily imagined than described. Any one who can try it out will find it is good and useful; but it is necessary that the arquebusiers be good troops, very much on the jump (as the saying is) and above all reliable."

It should be borne in mind, in noting the preceding, that there is always a great difference between what actually occurred, and the description thereof (made often by men who were not there, and God knows on what authority). Nevertheless, there appears in these lines of BrantÔme a first example of the most destructive use of the rifle, in the hands of skirmishers.

During the religious wars, which consisted of skirmishes and taking and retaking garrisoned posts, the fire of arquebusiers was executed without order and individually, as above.

The soldier carried the powder charges in little metal boxes hung from a bandoleer. A finer, priming, powder was contained in a powder horn; the balls were carried in a pouch. At the onset the soldier had to load his piece. It was thus that he had to fight with the match arquebus. This was still far from fire at command.

However this presently appeared. Gustavus Adolphus was the first who tried to introduce method and coÖrdination into infantry fire. Others, eager for innovations, followed in his path. There appeared successively, fire by rank, in two ranks, by subdivision, section, platoon, company, battalion, file fire, parapet fire, a formal fire at will, and so many others that we can be sure that all combinations were tried at this time.

Fire by ranks was undoubtedly the first of these; it will give us a line on the others.

Infantry was formed six deep. To execute fire by rank all ranks except the last knelt. The last rank fired and reloaded. The rank in front of it then rose and did the same thing, as did all other ranks successively. The whole operation was then recommenced.

Thus the first group firing was executed successively by ranks.

Montecuculli said, "The musketeers are ranged six deep, so that the last rank has reloaded by the time the first has fired, and takes up the fire again, so that the enemy has to face continuous fire."

However, under CondÉ and Turenne, we see the French army use only fire at will.

It is true that at this time fire was regarded only as an accessory. The infantry of the line which, since the exploit of the Flemish, the Swiss and the Spaniards, had seen their influence grow daily, was required for the charge and the advance and consequently was armed with pikes.

In the most celebrated battles of these times, Rocroi, Nordlingen, Lens, Rethel and the Dunes, we see the infantry work in this way. The two armies, in straight lines, commenced by bombarding each other, charged with their cavalry wings, and advanced with their infantry in the center. The bravest or best disciplined infantry drove back the other, and often, if one of its wings was victorious, finished by routing it. No marked influence of fire is found at this time. The tradition of Pescani was lost.

Nevertheless fire-arms improved; they became more effective and tended to replace the pike. The use of the pike obliged the soldier to remain in ranks, to fight only in certain cases, and exposed him to injury without being able to return blow for blow. And, this is exceedingly instructive, the soldier had by this time an instinctive dislike of this arm, which often condemned him to a passive role. This dislike necessitated giving high pay and privilege to obtain pikemen. And in spite of all at the first chance the soldier threw away his pike for a musket.

The pikes themselves gradually disappeared before firearms; the ranks thinned to permit the use of the latter. Four rank formation was used, and fire tried in that order, by rank, by two ranks, upright, kneeling, etc.

In spite of these attempts, we see the French army in combat, notably at Fontenoy, still using fire at will, the soldier leaving ranks to fire and returning to load.

It can be stated, in spite of numerous attempts at adoption, that no fire at command was used in battle up to the days of Frederick.

Already, under William, the Prussian infantry was noted for the rapidity and continuity of its fire. Frederick further increased the ability of his battalions to fire by decreasing their depth. This fire, tripled by speed in loading, became so heavy that it gave Prussian battalions a superiority over others of three to one.

The Prussians recognized three kinds of fire, at a halt, in advancing, and in retreat. We know the mechanics of fire at a halt, the first rank kneeling. Of fire in advancing Guibert says: "What I call marching fire, and which anybody who thinks about it must find as ill advised as I do, is a fire I have seen used by some troops. The soldiers, in two ranks, fire in marching, but they march of course at a snail's pace. This is what Prussian troops call fire in advancing. It consists in combined and alternating volleys from platoons, companies, half battalions or battalions. The parts of the line which have fired advance at the double, the others at the half step."

In other methods of fire, as we have said, the Prussian battalion was in three ranks; the first kneeling. The line delivered salvos, only at command.

However, the theory of executing fire by salvo in three ranks did not bother Frederick's old soldiers. We will see presently how they executed it on the field of battle.

Be that as it may, Europe was impressed with these methods and tended to adopt them. D'Argenson provided for them in the French army and introduced fire at command. Two regulations prescribing this appeared, in 1753 and 1755. But in the war which followed, Marshal de Broglie, who undoubtedly had experience and as much common sense as M. D'Argenson, prescribed fire at will. All infantry in his army was practiced in it during the winter of 1761-1762.

Two new regulations succeeded the preceding, in 1764 and 1776. The last prescribed fire in three ranks at command, all ranks upright. 48

Thus we come to the wars of the Revolution, with regulations calling for fire at command, which was not executed in battle.

Since these wars, our armies have always fought as skirmishers. In speaking of our campaigns, fire at command is never mentioned. It was the same under the Empire, in spite of numerous essays from the Boulogne school and elsewhere. At the Boulogne school, fire at command by ranks was first tried by order of Napoleon. This fire, to be particularly employed against cavalry—in theory it is superb—does not seem to have been employed Napoleon says so himself, and the regulations of 1832, in which some influence of soldiers of the Empire should be found, orders fire in two ranks or at will, by bodies of men, to the exclusion of all others.

According to our military authority, on the authority of our old officers, fire at command did not suit our infantry; yet it lived in the regulations. General Fririon (1822) and de Gouvion-Saint-Cyr (1829) attacked this method. Nothing was done. It remained in the regulations of 1832, but without being ordered in any particular circumstances. It appeared there for show purposes, perhaps.

On the creation of the chasseurs d'OrlÉans, fire by rank was revived. But neither in our African campaigns nor in our last two wars in the Crimea and Italy can a single example of fire at command be found. In practice it was believed to be impracticable. It was known to be entirely ineffective and fell into disrepute.

But to-day, with the breech-loading rifle, there is a tendency to believe it practicable and to take it up with new interest. Is this more reasonable than in the past? Let us see.

Undoubtedly at the Potsdam maneuvers the Prussian infantry used only salvos executed admirably. An unbelievable discipline kept the soldier in place and in line. Barbaric punishments were incorporated in the military code. Blows, the whip, executions, punished the slightest derelictions. Even N.C.O.'s were subjected to blows with the flat of the sword. Yet all this was not enough on the field of battle; a complete rank of non-commissioned officer file closers was also needed to hold the men to their duty.

M. Carion-Nisas said, "These file-closers hook their halberds together and form a line that cannot be broken." In spite of all this, after two or three volleys, so says General Renard, whom we believe more than charitable, there is no power of discipline which can prevent regular fire from breaking into fire at will.

But let us look further, into Frederick's battles. Let us take the battle of Mollwitz, in which success was specifically laid to fire at command, half lost, then won by the Prussian salvos.

"The Austrian infantry had opened fire on the lines of the Prussians, whose cavalry had been routed. It was necessary to shake them to insure victory. The Austrians still used wooden ramrods. Their fire came slowly, while the Prussian fire was thunderous, five or six shots to the rifle per minute. The Imperial troops, surprised and disconcerted by this massed fire, tried to hurry. In their hurry many broke their fragile ramrods. Confusion spread through the ranks, and the battle was lost."

But, if we study actual conditions of the period, we see that things did not happen in such an orderly sequence.

Firing started, and it is said that it was long and deadly. The Prussians iron ramrods gave them the advantage 'over an enemy whose ramrods were wooden, harder to manipulate and easily broken. However, when the order to advance was given to the Prussians, whole battalions stood fast; it was impossible to budge them. The soldiers tried to escape the fire and got behind each other, so that they were thirty to forty deep.

Here are men who exhibit under fire an admirable, calm, an immovable steadiness. Each instant they hear the dead heavy sound of a bullet striking. They see, they feel, around them, above them, between their legs, their comrades fall and writhe, for the fire is deadly. They have the power in their hands to return blow for blow, to send back to the enemy the death that hisses and strikes about them. They do not take a false step; their hands do not close instinctively on the trigger. They wait, imperturbably, the order of their chiefs—and what chiefs! These are the men who at the command "forward," lack bowels, who huddle like sheep one behind the other. Are we to believe this?

Let us get to the truth of the matter. Frederick's veterans, in spite of their discipline and drill, are unable to follow the methods taught and ordered. They are no more able to execute fire at command than they are to execute the ordered advance of the Potsdam maneuver field. They use fire at will. They fire fast from instinct—stronger than their discipline—which bids them send two shots for one. Their fire becomes indeed, a thunderous roll, not of salvos, but of rapid fire at will. Who fires most, hits most, so the soldier figures. So indeed did Frederick, for he encouraged fire in this same battle of Mollwitz; he thereafter doubled the number of cartridges given the soldier, giving him sixty instead of thirty.

Furthermore, if fire at command had been possible, who knows what Frederick's soldiers would have been capable of? They would have cut down battalions like standing grain. Allowed to aim quietly, no man interfering with another, each seeing clearly—then at the signal all firing together. Could anything hold against them? At the first volley the enemy would have broken and fled, under the penalty of annihilation in case they stayed. However, if we look at the final result at Mollwitz, we see that the number of killed is about the same on the side that used fire at command as on the side that did not. The Prussians lost 960 dead, the Austrians 966.

But they say that if fire was not more deadly, it was because sight-setting was then unknown. What if it was? There was no adjustment of fire perhaps, but there were firing regulations; aiming was known. Aiming is old. We do not say it was practiced; but it was known, and often mentioned. Cromwell often said, "Put your confidence in God, my children, and fire at their shoe-laces."

Do we set our sights better to-day? It is doubtful. If the able soldiers of Cromwell, of Frederick, of the Republic and of Napoleon could not set their sights—can we?

Thus this fire at command, which was only possible rarely and to commence action, was entirely ineffective.

Hardy spirits, seeing the slight effect of long range firing in battle, counselled waiting till the enemy was at twenty paces and driving him back with a volley. You do not have to sight carefully at twenty paces. What would be the result?

"At the battle of Castiglione," says Marshal Saxe, "the Imperial troops let the French approach to twenty paces, hoping to destroy them by a volley. At that distance they fired coolly and with all precautions, but they were broken before the smoke cleared. At the battle of Belgrade (1717) I saw two battalions who at thirty paces, aimed and fired at a mass of Turks. The Turks cut them up, only two or three escaping. The Turkish loss in dead was only thirty-two."

No matter what the Marshal says, we doubt that these men were cool. For men who could hold their fire up to such a near approach of the enemy, and fire into masses, would have killed the front rank, thrown the others into confusion, and would never have been cut up as they were. To make these men await, without firing, an enemy at twenty or thirty paces, needed great moral pressure. Controlled by discipline they waited, but as one waits for the roof to fall, for a bomb to explode, full of anxiety and suppressed emotion. When the order is given to raise the arms and fire the crisis is reached. The roof falls, the bomb explodes, one flinches and the bullets are fired into the air. If anybody is killed it is an accident.

This is what happened before the use of skirmishers. Salvos were tried. In action they became fire at will. Directed against troops advancing without firing they were ineffective. They did not halt the dash of the assault, and the troops who had so counted on them fled demoralized. But when skirmishers were used, salvos became impossible. Armies who held to old methods learned this to their cost.

In the first days of the Revolution our troops, undrilled and not strictly disciplined, could not fight in line. To advance on the enemy, a part of the battalion was detached as skirmishers. The remainder marched into battle and was engaged without keeping ranks. The combat was sustained by groups fighting without formal order. The art was to support by reserves the troops advanced as skirmishers. The skirmishers always began the action, when indeed they did not complete it.

To oppose fire by rank to skirmishers was fools' play.

Skirmishers necessarily opposed each other. Once this method was adopted, they were supported, reinforced by troops in formation. In the midst of general firing fire at command became impossible and was replaced by fire at will.

Dumouriez, at the battle of Jemmapes, threw out whole battalions as skirmishers, and supporting them by light cavalry, did wonders with them. They surrounded the Austrian redoubts and rained on the cannoneers a hail of bullets so violent that they abandoned their pieces.

The Austrians, astounded by this novel combat method, vainly reinforced their light troops by detachments of heavy infantry. Their skirmishers could not resist our numbers and impetuosity, and presently their line, beaten by a storm of bullets, was forced back. The noise of battle, the firing, increased; the defeated troops, hearing commands no longer, threw down their arms and fled in disorder.

So fire in line, heavy as it may be, cannot prevail against the power of numerous detachments of skirmishers. A rain of bullets directed aimlessly is impotent against isolated men profiting by the slightest cover to escape the fire of their adversaries, while the deployed battalions offer to their rifles a huge and relatively harmless target. The dense line, apparently so strong, withers under the deadly effect of the fire of isolated groups, so feeble in appearance. (General Renard.)

The Prussians suffered in the same way at Jena. Their lines tried fire at command against our skirmishers. You might as well fire on a handful of fleas.

They tell us of the English salvos at Sainte-EuphÉmie, in Calabria, and later in Spain. In these particular cases they could be used, because our troops charged without first sending out skirmishers.

The battle of Sainte-EuphÉmie only lasted half an hour; it was badly conceived and executed, "And if," says General Duhesme, "the advancing battalions had been preceded by detachments of skirmishers who had already made holes in enemy ranks, and, on close approach, the heads of columns had been launched in a charge, the English line would not have conserved that coolness which made their fire so effective and accurate. Certainly it would not have waited so long to loose its fire, if it had been vigorously harassed by skirmishers."

An English author, treating of the history of weapons, speaks of the rolling fire, well directed, of the English troops. He makes no mention of salvos. Perhaps we were mistaken, and in our accounts have taken the fire of a battalion for the formal battalion fire at command of our regulations.

The same tendency appears more clearly in the work on infantry of the Marquis de Chambray, who knew the English army well. He says that the English in Spain used almost entirely fire in two ranks. They employed battalion fire only when attacked by our troops without skirmishers, firing on the flanks of our columns. And he says "The fire by battalion, by half battalion and by platoon is limited to the target range. The fire actually most used in war is that in two ranks, the only one used by the French." Later he adds "Experience proves fire in two ranks the only one to be used against the enemy." Before him Marshal Saxe wrote "Avoid dangerous maneuvers, such as fire by platoon, which have often caused shameful defeats." These statements are as true now as then.

Fire at command, by platoon, by battalion, etc., is used in case the enemy having repulsed skirmishers and arrived at a reasonable range either charges or opens fire for effect himself. If the latter, fire is reciprocal and lasts until one or the other gives way or charges. If the enemy charges, what happens? He advances preceded by skirmishers who deliver a hail of bullets. You wish to open fire, but the voices of your officers are lost. The noise of artillery, of small arms, the confusion of battle, the shrieks of the wounded, distract the soldiers' attention. Before you have delivered your command the line is ablaze. Then try to stop your soldiers. While there is a cartridge left, they will fire. The enemy may find a fold of ground that protects him; he may adopt in place of his deployed order columns with wide intervals between, or otherwise change his dispositions. The changing incidents of battle are hidden by smoke and the troops in front, from the view of the officers behind. The soldiers will continue to fire and the officers can do nothing about it.

All this has been said already, has been gone into, and fire at command has been abandoned. Why take it up again? It comes to us probably from the Prussians. Indeed the reports of their general staff on their last campaign, of 1866, say that it was very effectively employed, and cite many examples.

But a Prussian officer who went through the campaign in the ranks and saw things close up, says, "In examining the battles of 1866 for characteristics, one is struck by a feature common to all, the extraordinary extension of front at the expense of depth. Either the front is spun out into a single long thin line, or it is broken into various parts that fight by themselves. Above all the tendency is evident to envelop the enemy by extending the wings. There is no longer any question of keeping the original order of battle. Different units are confused, by battle, or even before battle. Detachments and large units of any corps are composed of diverse and heterogeneous elements. The battle is fought almost exclusively by columns of companies, rarely of half-battalions. The tactics of these columns consists in throwing out strong detachments of skirmishers. Gradually the supports are engaged and deployed. The line is broken, scattered, like a horde of irregular cavalry. The second line which has held close order tries to get up to the first promptly, first to engage in the fight, also because they suffer losses from the high shots directed at the first line. It suffers losses that are heavy as it is compact and supports them with impatience as it does not yet feel the fever of battle. The most of the second line then forces entry into the first, and, as there is more room on the wings, it gravitates to the wings. Very often even the reserve is drawn in, entirely, or so largely that it cannot fulfill its mission. In fact, the fighting of the first two lines is a series of combats between company commands and the enemy each command faces. Superior officers cannot follow on horseback all the units, which push ahead over all sorts of ground. They have to dismount and attach themselves to the first unit of their command met. Unable to manipulate their whole command, in order to do something, they command the smaller unit. It is not always better commanded at that. Even generals find themselves in this situation."

Here is something we understand better. It is certainly what occurs.

As for the instances cited in the general staff reports, they deal with companies or half-battalions at most. Not withstanding the complacency with which they are cited, they must have been rare, and the exception should not be taken as establishing a rule.

6. Fire at Will—Its Efficacy

Thus fire at command, to-day as in the past, is impractical and consequently not actually used in battle. The only means employed are fire at will and the fire of skirmishers. Let us look into their efficacy.

Competent authorities have compiled statistics on this point.

Guibert thinks that not over two thousand men are killed or wounded by each million cartridges used in battle.

Gassendi assures us that of three thousand shots only one is a hit.

Piobert says that the estimate, based on the result of long wars, is that three to ten thousand cartridges are expended for each man hit.

To-day, with accurate and long range weapons, have things changed much? We do not think so. The number of bullets fired must be compared with the number of men dropped, with a deduction made for the action of artillery, which must be considered.

A German author has advanced the opinion that with the Prussian needle rifle the hits are 60% of the shots fired. But then how explain the disappointment of M. Dreyse, the happy inventor of the needle rifle, when he compared Prussian and Austrian losses. This good old gentleman was disagreeably astonished at seeing that his rifle had not come up to his expectations.

Fire at will, as we shall presently show, is a fire to occupy the men in the ranks but its effect is not great. We could give many examples; we only cite one, but it is conclusive.

"Has it not been remarked," says General Duhesme, "that, before a firing line there is raised a veil of smoke which on one side or the other hides the troops from view, and makes the fire of the best placed troops uncertain and practically without effect? I proved it conclusively at the battle of Caldiero, in one of the successive advances that occurred on my left wing. I saw some battalions, which I had rallied, halted and using an individual fire which they could not keep up for long. I went there. I saw through the smoke cloud nothing but flashes, the glint of bayonets and the tops of grenadier's caps. We were not far from the enemy however, perhaps sixty paces. A ravine separated us, but it could not be seen. I went into the ranks, which were neither closed nor aligned, throwing up with my hand the soldiers' rifles to get them to cease firing and to advance. I was mounted, followed by a dozen orderlies. None of us were wounded, nor did I see an infantryman fall. Well then! Hardly had our line started when the Austrians, heedless of the obstacle that separated us, retreated."

It is probable that had the Austrians started to move first, the French would have given way. It was veterans of the Empire, who certainly were as reliable as our men, who gave this example of lack of coolness.

In ranks, fire at will is the only possible one for our officers and men. But with the excitement, the smoke, the annoying incidents, one is lucky to get even horizontal fire, to say nothing of aimed fire.

In fire at will, without taking count of any trembling, men interfere with each other. Whoever advances or who gives way to the recoil of his weapon deranges the shot of his neighbor. With full pack, the second rank has no loophole; it fires in the air. On the range, spacing men to the extremity of the limits of formation, firing very slowly, men are found who are cool and not too much bothered by the crack of discharge in their ears, who let the smoke pass and seize a loophole of pretty good visibility, who try, in a word, not to lose their shots. And the percentage results show much more regularity than with fire at command.

But in front of the enemy fire at will becomes in an instant haphazard fire. Each man fires as much as possible, that is to say, as badly as possible. There are physical and mental reasons why this is so.

Even at close range, in battle, the cannon can fire well. The gunner, protected in part by his piece, has an instant of coolness in which to lay accurately. That his pulse is racing does not derange his line of sight, if he has will power. The eye trembles little, and the piece once laid, remains so until fired.

The rifleman, like the gunner, only by will-power keeps his ability to aim. But the excitement in the blood, of the nervous system, opposes the immobility of the weapon in his hands. No matter how supported, a part of the weapon always shares the agitation of the man. He is instinctively in haste to fire his shot, which may stop the departure of the bullet destined for him. However lively the fire is, this vague reasoning, unformed as it is in his mind, controls with all the force of the instinct of self preservation. Even the bravest and most reliable soldiers then fire madly.

The greater number fire from the hip.

The theory of the range is that with continual pressure on the trigger the shot surprises the firer. But who practices it under fire?

However, the tendency in France to-day is to seek only accuracy. What good will it do when smoke, fog, darkness, long range, excitement, the lack of coolness, forbid clear sight?

It is hard to say, after the feats of fire at Sebastopol, in Italy, that accurate weapons have given us no more valuable service than a simple rifle. Just the same, to one who has seen, facts are facts. But—see how history is written. It has been set down that the Russians were beaten at Inkermann by the range and accuracy of weapons of the French troops. But the battle was fought in thickets and wooded country, in a dense fog. And when the weather cleared, our soldiers, our chasseurs were out of ammunition and borrowed from the Russian cartridge boxes, amply provided with cartridges for round, small calibered bullets. In either case there could have been no accurate fire. The facts are that the Russians were beaten by superior morale; that unaimed fire, at random, there perhaps more than elsewhere, had the only material effect.

When one fires and can only fire at random, who fires most hits most. Or perhaps it is better said that who fires least expects to be hit most.

Frederick was impressed with this, for he did not believe in the Potsdam maneuvers. The wily Fritz looked on fire as a means to quiet and occupy the undependable soldiers and it proved his ability that he could put into practice that which might have been a mistake on the part of any other general officer. He knew very well how to count on the effect of his fire, how many thousand cartridges it took to kill or wound an enemy. At first his soldiers had only thirty cartridges. He found the number insufficient, and after Mollwitz gave them sixty.

To-day as in Frederick's day, it is rapid random fire, the only one practicable, which has given prestige to the Prussians. This idea of rapid fire was lost after Frederick, but the Prussians have recovered it to-day by exercising common sense. However our veterans of the Empire had preserved this idea, which comes from instinct. They enlarged their vents, scornful of flare backs, to avoid having to open the chamber and prime. The bullet having a good deal of clearance when the cartridge was torn and put in the gun, with a blow of the butt on the ground they had their arms charged and primed.

But to-day as then, in spite of skill acquired in individual fire, men stop aiming and fire badly as soon as they are grouped into platoons to fire.

Prussian officers, who are practical men, know that adjustment of sights is impracticable in the heat of action, and that in fire by volleys troops tend to use the full sight. So in the war of 1866 they ordered their men to fire very low, almost without sighting, in order to profit by ricochets.

7. Fire by Rank Is a Fire to Occupy the Men in Ranks

But if fire at will is not effective, what is its use? As we have already said its use is to occupy the men in the ranks.

In ordinary fire the act of breathing alone, by the movement it communicates to the body greatly annoys men in firing. How then can it be claimed that on the field of battle, in rank, men can fire even moderately well when they fire only to soothe themselves and forget danger?

Napoleon said "The instinct of man is not to let himself be killed without defending himself." And indeed man in combat is a being in whom the instinct of self preservation dominates at times all other sentiments. The object of discipline is to dominate this instinct by a greater terror of shame or of punishment. But it is never able entirely to attain this object; there is a point beyond which it is not effectual. This point reached, the soldier must fire or he will go either forward or back. Fire is then, let us say, a safety vent for excitement.

In serious affairs it is then difficult, if not impossible, to control fire. Here is an example given by Marshal Saxe:

"Charles XII, King of Sweden, wished to introduce into his infantry the method of charging with the bayonet. He spoke of it often, and it was known in the army that this was his idea. Finally at the battle of —— against the Russians, when the fighting started he went to his regiment of infantry, made it a fine speech, dismounted before the colors, and himself led the regiment to the charge. When he was thirty paces from the enemy the whole regiment fired, in spite of his orders and his presence. Otherwise, it did very well and broke the enemy. The king was so annoyed that all he did was pass through the ranks, remount his horse, and go away without saying a word."

So that, if the soldier is not made to fire, he will fire anyway to distract himself and forget danger. The fire of Frederick's Prussians had no other purpose. Marshal Saxe saw this. "The speed with which the Prussians load their rifles," he tells us, "is advantageous in that it occupies the soldier and forbids reflection while he is in the presence of the enemy. It is an error to believe that the five last victories gained by the nation in its last war were due to fire. It has been noted that in most of these actions there were more Prussians killed by rifle fire than there were of their enemies."

It would be sad to think the soldier in line a firing machine. Firing has been and always will be his principal object, to fire as many shots in as short a time as possible. But the victor is not always the one who kills the most; he is fortunate who best knows how to overcome the morale of his enemy.

The coolness of men cannot be counted on. And as it is necessary above all to keep up their morale one ought to try above all to occupy and soothe them. This can best be done by frequent discharges. There will be little effect, and it would be absurd to expect them to be calm enough to fire slowly, adjust their ranges and above all sight carefully.

8. The Deadly Fire Is the Fire of Skirmishers

In group firing, when the men are grouped into platoons or battalions, all weapons have the same value, and if it is assumed to-day that fire must decide engagements, the method of fighting must be adopted which gives most effect to the weapon. This is the employment of skirmishers.

It is this class of fire, indeed, which is deadliest in war. We could give many examples but we shall be content with the two following instances, taken from General Duhesme.

"A French officer who served with the Austrians in one of the recent wars," says General Duhesme, "told me that from the fire of a French battalion one hundred paces from them, his company lost only three or four men, while in the same time they had had more than thirty killed or wounded by the fire of a group of skirmishers in a little wood on their flank three hundred paces away."

"At the passage of the Minico, in 1801, the 2nd battalion of the 91st received the fire of a battalion of Bussi's regiment without losing a man; the skirmishers of that same organization killed more than thirty men in a few minutes while protecting the retreat of their organization."

The fire of skirmishers is then the most deadly used in war, because the few men who remain cool enough to aim are not otherwise annoyed while employed as skirmishers. They will perform better as they are better hidden, and better trained in firing.

The accuracy of fire giving advantages only in isolated fire, we may consider that accurate weapons will tend to make fighting by skirmishers more frequent and more decisive.

For the rest, experience authorizes the statement that the use of skirmishers is compulsory in war. To-day all troops seriously engaged become in an instant groups of skirmishers and the only possible precise fire is from hidden snipers.

However, the military education which we have received, the spirit of the times, clouds with doubt our mind regarding this method of fighting by skirmishers. We accept it regretfully. Our personal experience being incomplete, insufficient, we content ourselves with the supposition that gives us satisfaction. The war of skirmishers, no matter how thoroughly it has been proven out, is accepted by constraint, because we are forced by circumstance to engage our troops by degrees, in spite of ourselves, often unconsciously. But, be it understood, to-day a successive engagement is necessary in war.

However, let us not have illusions as to the efficacy of the fire of skirmishers. In spite of the use of accurate and long range weapons, in spite of all training that can be given the soldier, this fire never has more than a relative effect, which should not be exaggerated.

The fire of skirmishers is generally against skirmishers. A body of troops indeed does not let itself be fired on by skirmishers without returning a similar fire. And it is absurd to expect skirmishers to direct their fire on a body protected by skirmishers. To demand of troops firing individually, almost abandoned to themselves, that they do not answer the shots directed at them, by near skirmishers, but aim at a distant body, which is not harming them, is to ask an impossible unselfishness.

As skirmishers men are very scattered. To watch the adjustment of ranges is difficult. Men are practically left alone. Those who remain cool may try to adjust their range, but it is first necessary to see where your shots fall, then, if the terrain permits this and it will rarely do so, to distinguish them from shots fired at the same time by your neighbors. Also these men will be more disturbed, will fire faster and less accurately, as the fight is more bitter, the enemy stauncher; and perturbation is more contagious than coolness.

The target is a line of skirmishers, a target offering so little breadth and above all depth, that outside of point blank fire, an exact knowledge of the range is necessary to secure effect. This is impossible, for the range varies at each instant with the movements of the skirmishers. 49

Thus, with skirmishers against skirmishers, there are scattered shots at scattered targets. Our fire of skirmishers, marching, on the target range, proves this, although each man knows exactly the range and has time and the coolness to set his sights. It is impossible for skirmishers in movement to set sights beyond four hundred meters, and this is pretty extreme, even though the weapon is actually accurate beyond this.

Also, a shot is born. There are men, above all in officer instructors at firing schools, who from poor shots become excellent shots after years of practice. But it is impossible to give all the soldiers such an education without an enormous consumption of ammunition and without abandoning all other work. And then there would be no results with half of them.

To sum up, we find that fire is effective only at point blank. Even in our last wars there have been very few circumstances in which men who were favored with coolness and under able leadership have furnished exceptions. With these exceptions noted, we can say that accurate and long range weapons have not given any real effect at a range greater than point blank.

There has been put forward, as proof of the efficacy of accurate weapons the terrible and decisive results obtained by the British in India, with the Enfield rifle. But these results have been obtained because the British faced comparatively poorly armed enemies. They had then the security, the confidence, the ensuing coolness necessary for the use of accurate weapons. These conditions are completely changed when one faces an enemy equally well armed, who consequently, gives as good as he gets.

9. Absolute Impossibility of Fire at Command

Let us return to fire at command, which there is a tendency to-day to have troops execute in line.

Can regular and efficient fire be hoped for from troops in line? Ought it to be hoped for?

No, for man cannot be made over, and neither can the line.

Even on the range or on the maneuver field what does this fire amount to?

In fire at command, on the range, all the men in the two ranks come to the firing position simultaneously, everybody is perfectly quiet. Men in the front rank consequently are not deranged by their neighbors. Men in the second rank are in the same situation. The first rank being set and motionless they can aim through the openings without more annoyance than those in the first rank.

Fire being executed at command, simultaneously, no weapon is deranged at the moment of firing by the movements of the men. All conditions are entirely favorable to this kind of fire. Also as the fire is ordered with skill and coolness by an officer who has perfectly aligned his men (a thing rare even on the drill ground) it gives percentage results greater than that of fire at will executed with the minutest precautions, results that are sometimes astonishing.

But fire at command, from the extreme coolness that it demands of all, of the officer certainly more than of the soldier, is impracticable before the enemy except under exceptional circumstances of picked officers, picked men, ground, distance, safety, etc. Even in maneuvers its execution is farcical. There is not an organization in which the soldiers do not hurry the command to fire in that the officers are so afraid that their men will anticipate the command that they give it as rapidly as possible, while the pieces are hardly in firing position, often while they are still in motion.

The prescription that the command to fire be not given until about three seconds after coming to the firing position may give good results in the face of range targets. But it is not wise to believe that men will wait thus for long in the face of the enemy.

It is useless to speak of the use of the sight-leaf before the enemy, in fire attempted by the same officers and men who are so utterly lacking, even on the maneuver ground. We have seen a firing instructor, an officer of coolness and assurance, who on the range had fired trial shots every day for a month, after this month of daily practice fire four trial shots at a six hundred meter range with the sight leaf at point blank.

Let us not pay too much attention to those who in military matters base everything on the weapon and unhesitating assume that the man serving it will adopt the usage provided and ordered in their regulations. The fighting man is flesh and blood. He is both body and soul; and strong as the soul may often be it cannot so dominate the body that there is no revolt of the flesh, no mental disturbance, in the face of destruction. Let us learn to distrust mathematics and material dynamics as applied to battle principles. We shall learn to beware of the illusions drawn from the range and the maneuver field.

There experience is with the calm, settled, unfatigued, attentive, obedient soldier, with an intelligent and tractable man instrument in short. And not with the nervous, easily swayed, moved, troubled, distrait, excited, restless being, not even under self-control, who is the fighting man from general to private. There are strong men, exceptions, but they are rare.

These illusions nevertheless, stubborn and persistent, always repair the next day the most damaging injuries inflicted on them by reality. Their least dangerous effect is to lead to prescribing the impracticable, as if ordering the impracticable were not really an attack on discipline, and did not result in disconcerting officers and men by the unexpected and by surprise at the contrast between battle and the theories of peace-time training.

Battle of course always furnishes surprises. But it furnishes less in proportion as good sense and the recognition of the truth have had their effect on the training of the fighting man.

Man in the mass, in a disciplined body organized for combat, is invincible before an undisciplined body. But against a similarly disciplined body he reverts to the primitive man who flees before a force that is proved stronger, or that he feels stronger. The heart of the soldier is always the human heart. Discipline holds enemies face to face a little longer, but the instinct of self-preservation maintains its empire and with it the sense of fear.

Fear!

There are chiefs, there are soldiers who know no fear, but they are of rare temper. The mass trembles, for the flesh cannot be suppressed. And this trembling must be taken into account in all organization, discipline, formation, maneuver, movement, methods of action. For in all of these the soldier tends to be upset, to be deceived, to under-rate himself and to exaggerate the offensive spirit of the enemy.

On the field of battle death is in the air, blind and invisible, making his presence known by fearful whistlings that make heads duck. During this strain the recruit hunches up, closes in, seeking aid by an instinctive unformulated reasoning. He figures that the more there are to face a danger the greater each one's chances of escaping. But he soon sees that flesh attracts lead. Then, possessed by terror, inevitably he retreats before the fire, or "he escapes by advancing," in the picturesque and profound words of General Burbaki.

The soldier escapes from his officer, we say. Yes, he escapes! But is it not evident that he escapes because up to this moment nobody has bothered about his character, his temperament, the impressionable and exciteable nature of man? In prescribed methods of fighting he has always been held to impossibilities. The same thing is done to-day. To-morrow, as yesterday, he will escape.

There is of course a time when all the soldiers escape, either forward, or to the rear. But the organization, the combat methods should have no other object than to delay as long as possible this crisis. Yet they hasten it.

All our officers fear, quite justifiably from their experience, that the soldier will too rapidly use his cartridges in the face of the enemy. This serious matter is certainly worthy of attention. How to stop this useless and dangerous waste of ammunition is the question. Our soldiers show little coolness. Once in danger they fire, fire to calm themselves, to pass the time; they cannot be stopped.

There are some people you cannot embarrass. With the best faith in the world they say, "What is this? You are troubled about stopping the fire of your soldiers? That is not difficult. You find that they show little coolness, and shoot despite their officers, in spite even of themselves? All right, require of them and their officers methods of fire that demand extremes of coolness, calm and assurance, even in maneuver. They cannot give a little? Ask a lot and you will get it. There you have a combat method nobody has ever heard of, simple, beautiful, and terrible."

This is indeed a fine theory. It would make the wily Frederick who surely did not believe in these maneuvers, laugh until he cried. 50

This is to escape from a difficulty by a means always recognized as impossible, and more impossible than ever to-day.

Fearing that the soldier will escape from command, can not better means be found to hold him than to require of him and his officer, impracticable fire? This, ordered and not executed by the soldiers, and even by the officers, is an attack on the discipline of the unit. "Never order the impossible," says discipline, "for the impossible becomes then a disobedience."

How many requisites there are to make fire at command possible, conditions among the soldiers, among their officers. Perfect these conditions, they say. All right, perfect their training, their discipline, etc.; but to obtain fire at command it is necessary to perfect their nerves, their physical force, their moral force, to make bronze images of them, to do away with excitement, with the trembling of the flesh. Can any one do this?

Frederick's soldiers were brought, by blows of the baton, to a terrible state of discipline. Yet their fire was fire at will. Discipline had reached its limits.

Man in battle, let us repeat again, is a being to whom the instinct of self-preservation at times dominates everything else. Discipline, whose purpose is to dominate this instinct by a feeling of greater terror, can not wholly achieve it. Discipline goes so far and no farther.

We cannot deny the existence of extraordinary instances when discipline and devotion have raised man above himself. But these examples are extraordinary, rare. They are admired as exceptions, and the exception proves the rule.

As to perfection, consider the Spartans. If man was ever perfected for war it was he; and yet he has been beaten, and fled.

In spite of training, moral and physical force has limits. The Spartans, who should have stayed to the last man on the battle field, fled.

The British with their phlegmatic coolness and their terrible rolling fire, the Russians, with that inertia that is called their tenacity, have given way before attack. The German has given way, he who on account of his subordination and stability has been called excellent war material.

Again an objection is raised. Perhaps with recruits the method may be impracticable. But with veterans—But with whom is war commenced? Methods are devised precisely for young and inexperienced troops.

They ask, also, if the Prussians used this method of fire successfully in the last war, why should not we do as well? Supposing that the Prussians actually did use it, and this is far from being proved, it does not follow that it is practicable for us. This mania for borrowing German tactics is not new, although it has always been properly protested against. Marshal Luchner said, "No matter how much they torment their men, fortunately they will never make them Prussians." Later de Gouvion-Saint-Cyr said, "The men are drilled in various exercises believed necessary to fit them for war, but there is no question of adopting exercises to suit the French military genius, the French character and temperament. It has not been thought necessary to take this into account; it has been easier to borrow German methods."

To follow preconceived tactics is more the part of the phlegmatic German than it is ours. The Germans obey well enough, but the point is that they try to follow tactics which are contrary to nature. The Frenchman cannot. More spontaneous, more exciteable and impressionable, less calm and obedient, he has in our last wars promptly and completely violated both the letter and the spirit of the regulations. "The German," said a Prussian officer, "has sentiments of duty and obedience. He submits to severe discipline. He is full of devotion, although not animated by a lively mind. Easy by nature, rather heavy than active, intellectually calm, reflective, without dash or divine fire, wishing but not mad to conquer, obeying calmly and conscientiously, but mechanically and without enthusiasm, fighting with a resigned valor, with heroism, he may let himself be sacrificed uselessly, but he sells his life dearly. Without warlike tendencies, not bellicose, unambitious, he is yet excellent war material on account of his subordination and stability. What must be inculcated in him is a will of his own, a personal impulse to send him forward." According to this unflattering portrait, which we believe a little extreme, even if by a compatriot, it is possible that the Germans can be handled in tactics impossible with French. However, did they actually use these tactics? Remember the urgent warning of BlÜcher to his brigade commanders, not to let bayonet attacks break down into fusillades. Note the article in the present Prussian firing regulations, which prescribes trial shots before each fire delivered, "so as to dissipate the kind of excitement that possesses the soldier when his drill has been interrupted for some time."

In conclusion, if fire at command was impossible with the ancient rifle, it is more so to-day, for the simple reason that trembling increases as the destructive power increases. Under Turenne, lines held longer than to-day, because the musket was in use and the battle developed more slowly. To-day when every one has the rapid fire rifle, are things easier? Alas no! Relations between weapons and the man are the same. You give me a musket, I fire at sixty paces, a rifle, at two hundred; a chessepot, at four hundred. But I have perhaps less coolness and steadiness than at the old sixty paces, for with the rapidity of fire the new weapon is more terrible at four hundred paces, for me as well as for the enemy, than was the musket at sixty paces. And is there even more fire accuracy? No. Rifles were used before the French revolution, and yet this perfectly well known weapon was very rarely seen in war, and its efficacy, as shown in those rare cases, was unsatisfactory. Accurate fire with it at combat distances of from two hundred to four hundred meters was illusory, and it was abandoned in favor of the old rifle. Did the foot chasseurs know fire at command? Picked troops, dependable, did they use it? Yet it would have been a fine method of employing their weapons. To-day we have weapons that are accurate at six hundred to seven hundred meters. Does that mean that accurate fire at seven hundred meters is possible? No. If your enemy is armed as we are, fire at seven hundred meters will show the same results that have been shown for four hundred meters. The same losses will be suffered, and the coolness shown will be the same—that is, it will be absent. If one fire three times as fast, three times as many men will fall, and it will be three times as difficult to preserve coolness. Just as formerly it was impossible to execute fire at command, so it is to-day. Formerly no sight-setting was possible; it is no better to-day.

But if this fire is impossible, why attempt it? Let us remain always in the realm of the possible or we shall make sad mistakes. "In our art," said General Daine, "theorists abound; practical men are very rare. Also when the moment of action arrives, principles are often found to be confused, application impossible, and the most erudite officers remain inactive, unable to use the scientific treasures that they have amassed."

Let us then, practical men, seek for possible methods. Let us gather carefully the lessons of their experience, remembering Bacon's saying, "Experience excels science."