Chapter 17 The more things change
A DOCUMENT OF considerable importance with regard to the future care and training of boy soldiers was issued in April 1955. This was the Report of the Committee on the Organisation and Administration of Boys' Units in the Army, which came to be known as the Miller Report after the officer who headed the inquiry, Lieutenant-General Sir Euan A. Miller. It was as frank and candid as that written by School Inspector Moseley following his visit to the Royal Military Asylum in 1846 (see Appendix A). The main difference between the two reports was that the Miller Committee found living conditions of positive luxury as compared with those with which Moseley had been confronted more than a hundred years earlier.
The Miller Committee was given the following terms of reference:
To investigate the organization (including staffing) and administration of those units of the Army which have been set up to train enlisted boys and to report whether such units best meet, under present day conditions, the Army's requirements for enlisted boys, bearing in mind that the object is to provide long service regular NCOs for the Army. [1]
There were eleven major centres for training underage soldiers at that time. These included four apprentices' schools and six squadrons, companies or regiments for the RAC, RA, RE, R. Signals, RASC and RAOC. The eleventh unit was a Boys' Infantry Battalion at Plymouth. This last unit was a significant addition to the total number of training depots for young soldiers because, in its enthusiasm to provide itself with skilled tradesmen over the previous 25 years, the army had neglected the infantry. There had been no interruption of the enlistment of young musicians for military bands, but the inference of the neglect was that the infantry could make do with adult recruits. The need to train junior soldiers for positions of leadership in this branch of the Service was shown by the postwar creation of the Boys' Infantry Battalion.
Among the recommendations of the Miller Committee were a more strin- gent selection system to raise the standard of entry; improved facilities; a unit strength of about 800 (meaning that some units would need to be expanded and others decreased); acceptance of the principle that boys' units be 'conducted more as schools than military units'; and a more selective appointment of the officer, warrant officer and NCO staff. The extent to which these recommendations were accepted and implemented will be discussed, but it is first worth quoting the following passage from the Committee's report.
In addition, we have had the benefit of paying an interesting visit to the Duke of York's Royal Military School at Dover, where we were able to discuss with the Commandant and his staff many relevant and comparable problems. [2]
What this meant, in effect, was that although the Committee was primarily concerned with corps and regimental units it did not neglect the military schools. To some extent the Duke of York's served as a model and prompted the Miller Committee to recommend that the units be 'conducted more as schools than military units'. This was because the previous year (1954) had marked the culmination of a fiercely debated campaign to bring about reforms in the military schools system. (The authors of the Miller Report saw fit to refer to the excellent accommodation provided at the Duke ofY ork's for its pupils.) Let us first deal with these reforms, for they, too, are part of the changing pattern of boy soldier service as perceived in this history.
General Sir Archibald Nye, one-time Chief of the Imperial General Staff, was also a leading member of the Board of Governors of the school and it was he who led the campaign for reform. Nye had been a pupil of the school at the time it moved from Chelsea to its present premises at Dover. He had unhappy memories of his years there and once in a position to make changes he did so - but not without strong opposition from the well-organised and active Old Boys' Association of the school. Until the early 1950S the curriculum and interior economy of the institution had been distinctly military in character and Nye was determined to change this emphasis to bring the operation of the Duke of York's more into line with the English public schools (private schools in North America) and to alter its curriculum to conform to the education standards of the state.
To the extent that military affairs are aired in public, Nye took the issue beyond the doors of the boardroom after his views had been accepted, but when his opposition was still refusing to accept afait accompli. Writing to the Royal United Services Institution Journal in July 1954, in reply to an article published in the May 1954 issue, he expressed his own views.
I have recently read an article in the [RUSI] Journal [May 1954] written by a Lieutenant-Colonel R. Evans of the Duke of York's Royal Military School from which it is evident that this officer, who purports to write with some authority, is unaware of the background of events in recent years ... which affected a fundamental re-organization of the School.
I was at the School from 1905 to 1914 and it seems relevant to record my impressions of the School during that time because the action which was taken in recent years springs directly from my experiences.
The outstanding impression is that the School was organized on predominantly military lines. The people who really mattered were the Commandant, the Adjutant, the Regimental Sergeant-Major, the Bandmaster, the Drum-Major, the PT Instructor and the Company Sergeant-Majors of the various companies. Considerable time was devoted to drill, band and drum practice, physical training and such like military subjects; and the military atmosphere pervaded the School. [3]
He went on to discuss the officers and NCOs of his day: a Colonel Norris, a 'short fat man with a fine fighting record in West Africa, foul-mouthed both to his staff and to his wife and utterly unsuited for the job'; a Colonel Nugent of the Irish Guards with the 'severe limitations' typical of the guardsmen of the era; and subordinate staff drawn from the old regular army and having the good and bad qualities of those days.
The General confessed that he had only once in his career departed from his self-imposed inflexible rule of not actively seeking appointments. This was when he suggested that he might become a specially-appointed Commissioner to the Duke of York's, to bring about much-needed change. He was successful and overnight the school was transformed. Off came the khaki uniforms, the studded boots, the chevrons of boy soldier rank and insignia of military organisation, and on went the grey flannel trousers and blue school blazers. The Commandant was replaced by a headmaster, the Adjutant by a bursar, and the Company Sergeant-Majors by housemasters. Boys still paraded at the weekends, in newly-issued blue uniforms and dashing blue berets bearing the school regimental cap badge, so some aspects of the former regimen remained, but the miltary influence was greatly subdued in favour of a public school atmosphere.
Fred Barry, who was at the school from 1948 until 1956 and who later enlisted in the Royal Military Police, noted the change, especially in the freedom given formerly to (sergeant) prefects to administer corporal punishment, but curtailed by the reforms.
When I joined the school, prefects were allowed to administer the cane, but this changed during my time. Prefects could still punish boys in other ways. [4]
When the Miller Committee visited the premises in 1955, it saw acres of playing fields, neat red-brick buildings with contrasting white windows, curving roads resting gently on the eye, and trimmed grass verges. Here was what could be done with planning and effort and the Committee thought that similar facilities should be provided for all boys' units.
That the changes recommended by the Committee were brought about is evident from the correspondence of men who served as boys during the following years. Some changes came more slowly than others, but the adult staff began to treat their young charges with more concern, improved facilities were provided, and greater emphasis was placed on organised sports and outdoor activities. Adventure training, for example, was unheard of befvore 1955, but is now considered an important part of junior soldier training.
If the adult staff could be influenced by the change in policy to show a more humane regard for young soldiers, there was still the continuing problem of how to tame the boy NCOs. Inadequately coached, they could become martinets who terrorised their fellows. How boys adjusted themselves to some sort of pecking order in the larger units is a recurring theme in the letters of more recent ex-boy soldiers. WO II Richard A. James, now serving with the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards, began his service at the age of 15 in 1959. Of the terror caused by some of the boy NCOs, he wrote:
It wasn't discipline, it was fear, not of the regular sergeants, but of the boy NCOs. For the first 3 months I had a sealed letter in my locker, asking my mother for £20 to purchase my discharge and twice I walked along the road to the post bunk to post it. Each time, at the last moment, pride forced me to turn round. How could I go back home and say I couldn't take the discipline after telling everyone how good the new life was going to be?
Inspections were endless and any infringement of the rules was punished by extra work. The thing I couldn't understand was the mental cruelty that went on. Boys in the army 3 months longer than you treated you like a second-class citizen. [5]
James moved with others to Chepstow in a major reorganisation of the apprentice schools in 1961. The bullying there, he said, was worse than at Harrogate (his former station) and that's when he decided to make a stand.
This was not received as a popular idea, but after three months I was promoted to sergeant and was able to exercise more power. I believe you can be strict without demeaning those under your command.
'It's all different now and maybe rightly so,' James concluded. One wonders if it is. Recruits of the late 1950S are now the army's old sweats with children of their own. These children, in turn, have become the boy soldiers of today and the army, we find, is more selective than it ever was. WO I David Wiggins of the 1st Wessex Regiment enlisted in the Infantry Junior Leaders Battalion in 1959 at the age of 15. Of the type of boy recruited during his time, he wrote:
It is interesting to note that many of my companions came from cities and large towns. Many had brushed with the police and most, according to them, had experienced some sort of sexual activity and numerous fights (punchups). I must admit that in hindsight these boys were far more mature for their age than I, a boy from the out-back of Berkshire, known to them as a Swede. These boys were the ones who came to the fore more readily than most. I have heard of many who made the grade later on in their service. My point is that the Army in 1959 was prepared to accept junior soldiers with what could be called a grey background; it is doubtful if they would in 1982.
I was one of two English boys after I was transferred to B Company, the rest being Welsh. (B Company provided recruits for the Welsh Brigade, the Light Infantry Brigade, the Mercian Brigade, and the Regiments of Y orkshire and the Fusiliers.) The Welsh boys were completely different in their outlook, extremely humorous and ready to accept me at once. Many of them I still see today; I always have a thick head the next day. [6]
On the other side of the coin there was the adult staff, the officers and instructors. WO I Tom Taylor was instructor at the Apprentice School at Arborfield. In providing a picture of apprentice training during the 1950s, he confirmed what Wiggins had to say about the type of recruit.
Boys, or junior leaders as they became known after about 1956 or so, differed greatly from adult recruits or adult soldiers. I was appointed to the post of CSM REME Enlisted Boys Company in 1954. In those days many of these young fellows were problem kids who were pushed into the service to get them out of the way, or to save somebody the task of sorting out their problems. They didn't have police records (they wouldn't have been enlisted), but were probably a bit wild and too much for mum and dad to handle.
We certainly didn't treat them as children; neither did we wrap them in cotton wool, but we did keep a very careful eye on them in view ofthe fact that during a term we were virtually their parents. I was affectionately known as 'Dad', but behind my back, of course.
The staff of these junior establishments were normally selected fairly carefully, with the accent on athletic ability, good service record, patience and, above all, they had to be volunteers. The latter did sometimes cause a problem as on at least one occasion a rather peculiar type slipped through the net and had to be removed in very short order; very unusual occurrence.
It was rarely necessary to work on the question of regimental pride. After their first term as recruits this always appeared, at least in my experience, to come so naturally to the boys that at times it was a little overpowering.
In the question of being 'little devils' , I can only say they were normally healthy boys. Always game for mischief, but usually of a harmless nature. An unlocked kitchen door was considered fair game and a barrack room feast of sausages could only lead to a shortage of breakfast next day.
The system underwent changes after my retirement in 1961, as many probably as took place to improve the system before this time. The upheaval caused by the suicide of an RE enlisted boy in, I think, '56 or '57 I well remember. He had been subjected to some rather rough discipline, dealt out by his fellows. One thing that horrified me ... was the amount of control left in the hands of boy NCOs. This led to some bullying and quite a bit of unhappiness, but in those days it was considered a fairly hard school. I discovered afterwards, during a seminar at the School of Education at Beaconsfield, that the life was nowhere near as hard as that considered normal at some of the well-known public schools.
We quickly changed the system and kept a very careful watch to ensure that barrack room courts and the like were not held. The boys had a very rigid code as far as personal hygiene was concerned and would, if allowed, deal with these things themselves in a somewhat unkind way with cold scrubbings, etc.
I must say that at the period in question, the 1950s, I did not agree with the system whereby a boy of 15 years was expected to contract to serve with the colours until the age of 25. I was sure that a lot of the young men regretted their decision or, in so many cases, that of their parents to sign away a large chunk of their lives. Many had absolutely no idea of what they were letting themselves in for. On the plus side, a young man determined to make a career of the Army entered his adult service with a 1st Class certificate of education, a good regimental background, many military skills, and full of old soldier's tricks ofthe trade. [7]
By 1960 junior soldiers, as they are now known, were permitted to leave barracks in civilian clothes, subject to official approval. David Wiggins explained the procedure:
At the start of each term, every company had a civilian clothes inspection when your proposed attire for the next three months was checked. Items of clothing approved were entered on to your civilian clothes pass. Then, presenting yourself to the guard room for walking out, you produced your clothes pass ... to ensure that your dress conformed to the listed items. I can remember many being sent back to change their socks. [8]
What about the 1960s and 1970s? With the corning of the controversial raising of the school-leaving age to 16, the army was forced to increase the minimum age for enlistment to junior soldier training to 16 years. The adult staff found itself committed to spending an increasing part of the day with its young charges-a far cry from the time of John Holland when boy soldiers lived with the men in tents, cooked their own food, and cleaned their eating utensils in sand and salt water by the seashore.
Yet another change was the institution of a more careful selection system by which entrants were graded as apprentices, junior leaders or junior soldiers. Robert Kennelly, an RAOC junior soldier at the age of 15 (1962 intake), considered himself and his companions at Blackdown at the very bottom of the boy soldier heap. Apprentices and junior leaders were regarded as superior entrants, even among the young recruits themselves. Nevertheless, upon arriving at Dettingen Barracks to begin training, Kennelly's intake was reminded that they would be the future NCOs and WOs of the army.
Absence without leave was common in his time, he said.
Boys got homesick or missed their girl friends so they just took off. They usually went home. The Army then sent the police for them and that was enough for them to report back to camp on their own. That was not only better than having an escort, but cheaper. Prisoners had to pay the escort's train fare and living allowance from their own pockets. I know; it happened tome. [9]
This is yet another indication that times were changing, when young soldiers were being put on trust to return to camp. Discipline, though still firm, was more relaxed. WO II Alan Carroll (RAOC, 1963 intake) reported:
Discipline ... became stricter when we joined our permanent platoons and came under the command of boy NCOs and WOs who ran every aspect of platoon life. It was a hard, active regime, but not brutal. The odd kick, cuff or punch, both by boy and regular NCOs was accepted with a sort of perverse pride that 'we could take it'. We were treated with a mixture of mild aloofness and amused contempt by the regular soldier to whom we were known by the universally-accepted term of 'a fucking rat'. [10]
The underage recruits still indulged in horseplay which, psychologically, varied little from that practised by pre-1939 Dukies who used to roll their victims off company block roofs clamped inside a dustbin or condemned 'prisoners' to the electric chair (an upturned laundry basket in which another boy was concealed) and shocked him with the aid of a darning needle thrust through the wicker into his behind. Sergeant Geoffrey Carter Om Leaders Battalion RA, 1967 intake) described a variation of the electric chair treatment.
At the Junior Leaders Regiment there was no bullying, but I witnessed so-called horseplay. One such act was to hold a recruit's face against the wall, remove his shirt, and let him watch you plug in an electric iron. He was then told that once it was hot it would be placed on his back. By this time the recruit was terrified. The iron was then unplugged and held a few inches from his back to let him feel the heat. Then, at the last moment, a cold mess tin was slapped on his back. [11]
The 1970s saw the rise of the troubles in Northern Ireland and the army found that not a few Irish youths, enlisted for junior soldier training, later put this to use in the service ofthe IRA. Philip McCullough (RAOC, 1962 intake), who later joined the 16th Para Workshop unit, was one such entrant. In 1966, by then on his adult service, he stole two pounds of plastic explosive in Northern Ireland and demolished a post office letter box, for which he served an 18-month prison term. (He recently turned up in Adelaide, Australia, as a guest of the Australian-Irish Friendship Society, but was quickly returned to Northern Ireland by Australian immigration as an undesirable.)
By 1972, when Sergeant Rhett Corcoran of the 3rd Anglian Regiment enlisted, the changes advocated by the Miller Report were clearly well established. Absence without leave came to be regarded more as truancy (a sure indication of the more relaxed atmosphere), members of the staff spent more time in the company of the boys, and more attention was being paid by the authorities to the training of boy NCOs to ensure that they did not abuse their authority. Boys who were unable to take to the life or were found to be in some other way unsuitable were free to leave the service. This was perhaps a reflection of the times, of rising unemployment and, as a consequence, greater selectivity on the part of the military authorities. Wrote Corcoran:
The first few weeks were bloody hard and the numbers fell off considerably. Of course, boy service is based on the school term system. Our first leave was at Christmas. During your leave your parents received a report exactly as they would when you were at school, except that your report was not based on PT, drill, sport, education and weapon training. [12]
The changes that have taken place in the training of young soldiers since the end of the Second World War are imperceptible when viewed from year to year and can only be seen clearly in retrospect. Similarly, the most recent changes, and those now taking place, will not be seen in clear perspective for another twenty years. Nevertheless, it is certain that changes in the service and treatment of boy soldiers since the end of the Second World War have been profound. The net effect has been to make a military career attractive for boy soldiers as never before. A survey of the recruiting statistics for the period 1968-1978 indicates clearly the results of the post-war conditions of service. Furthermore, a number of interesting observations can be made from the figures given in the following table.
Recruiting Statistics 1968-1978 Year Total New
RecruitsYoung Soldiers (YS)
& Juniors Jnrs)YS, Jnrs &
Adults Under 181968 17,125 7,991 9,684 1969 20,709 9,449 11,469 1970 21,872 9,890 11,860 1971 29,354 13,722 15,983 1972 27,434 14,346 16,464 1973 15,245 6,596 8,125 1974 21,023 10,890 12,636 1975 25,682 13,684 15,795 1976 23,154 12,911 14,708 1977 19,423 9,620 12,044 1978 22,169 12,929 15,009 Totals 242,190 122,028 143,778
The first thing that becomes apparent when considering these recruiting statistics is that very few recruits over the age of 18 years were accepted for service during the period 1968-1978. In fact the average yearly intake of recruits aged 18 years and over was 1317. This figure represents slightly over eight per cent of the total recruits for the ten-year period.
A young soldier is defined as one less than seventeen and a half years of age on enlistment and this, therefore, by the definition given at the beginning of this work, qualifies a Young Soldier as a boy soldier. Further, the difference between the last two columns represents the annual intake of recruits who were aged 17.5 to 18 years of age. Strictly speaking, by the original definition, this group too was composed of boy soldiers on enlistment. The number in this category for the ten-year period is 21,750 which is higher than the over-18 recruits by some 8000. For the purpose of the calculations which follow, however, recruits in this category are ignored. The statistics are striking enough without them.
Considering, then, the first two columns of recruits, the annual intake of boy soldiers is well over half the total figure for each year. In 1978, for example, boy recruits represent 58 per cent ofthe total recruits for that year. Similarly, the total boy recruits for the period 1968-1978 is calculated at 78 per cent of the total.
On enlistment recruits sign to serve a 22-year engagement, committing themselves initially for periods of 3, 6 or 9 years' colour service with the possibility oflonger service if both they and the military authorities are willing. Colour service for all recruits is measured from the age of 18 or the recruit's age on entry, whichever is later. Based on the sampling of respondents who answered the questionaire prepared for this study, the average service as full-time soldiers (usually termed 'colour service') spent by boy soldiers once they began their man service at age 18, was ten years.
Ignoring the effect of attrition for such reasons as medical discharge, unsuitability and mortality, it is now possible to make those observations to which we earlier referred concerning the practise of boy soldier recruitment in the British Army; but first we should take note of the total strength of the present-day Army. Including trainees, NCOs and officers, the size of the Army ranges from 150,000 to 160,000. If we reduce this figure, however, by the number of the officer and senior NCO core, which has been given as 30,000, we are left with a total strength of about 130,000. Of this figure some 75,000 are ex-boys (although they may no longer be young) and up to 14,000 (possibly more) will still be under-age soldiers; this last figure being the combined young soldier, junior soldier and apprentice soldier elements. From this it follows that the total strength of the 130,000 includes 89,000 serving boy soldiers and ex-boy soldiers combined. This is a large component and one is curious to know why, for it represents 68 per cent of the army's total strength - excluding the commissioned officers and senior NCOs, of course.
During a tour of a cross-section of junior entry units in 1980, I was able to interview many officers and NCOs of unit training staffs. Brigadier J. R. Smith, OBE, Chief Education Officer of the United Kingdom Land Forces (UKLF), in reply to a question as to why this large junior army exists (by which is meant the combined total of under-age soldiers) said, 'To recruit; for the good of the army and, thirdly, for the future NCOs.' Cost, he said, was an important consideration, and the malleability of young recruits in preparing them for a military life was another. Yet cost and malleability are not the only criteria. There is a preference for young recruits over adults for the benefits obtained when it comes to thoroughly grounding a soldier in the required technical skills.
One training officer expressed it another way. He said, 'Military weaponry is sophisticated. It is easier to train young recruits in the operation and maintenance of high technology systems than adults who, by the age of 18, are more set in their ways.'
In this respect, the British and Australian armed forces (Australia also has a well-developed apprentice training scheme) have an advantage over other armies. Youths, carefully selected and screened for intelligence and technical aptitude, whether for an infantry or technical role, are better able to adjust to the technology they are to use and maintain than the adult recruit.
There is evidence to suggest that ex-boys have an advantage over adult recruits when it comes to promotion. For example, the statistics for promotion to the junior NCO ranks of one regiment were given as follows.
Age on promotion
L/Cpl
Cpl
Ex-Apprentice
21.7
24.9
Ex-Junior Leader
21.0
25.5
Ex-Adult recruit
24.5
27.2
The machines of war, like the machines of production in modern society, become more and more automated; yet, no matter how sophisticated they do become, with memory banks, computer control chips, and other electronic gadgetry, they still need men to operate and maintain them, which brings us back to technical training and military discipline.
The long bows which won the day at Crecy and Agincourt were handled by men hard-trained at the butts, and well-disciplined to obey. A bowman who loosed a premature arrow might have had his legs thwacked by the Captain of Archers, but no serious harm was done. A similar breach of discipline in a modern army could have dire consequences, so the need for training and discipline, far from diminishing since the days of bow and arrow warfare, has increased immeasurably. Indeed, the more complex the equipment the greater the need for teamwork. For this reason it is more necessary than ever to train soldiers from an early age. Raw courage has always been reckoned an important quality in the soldier's psychological make-up, but it is not enough. Training, education and discipline are what make the modern soldier professional. As long as these qualities are needed there will be a demand for boy soldiers.
As a footnote and end piece to this story of boy soldiers, it is worth mentioning the occurrence of the Falkland Islands conflict in which the army played a leading role - not forgetting the Royal Navy, the Merchant Navy, the Royal Air Force and support services. Numerous were the reports of journalists on the scene concerning the extreme youth of those engaged. While there is no record, as yet, of boy soldiers taking an active role as they did in British military conflicts up to the Second World War, we may be certain from the statistics dealt with earlier that a good number, and probably half, were ex-boy soldiers.
In response to an enquiry as to the ex-boy soldier element of the Falkland Expeditionary Force, the Ministry of Defence regretted that it was not possible to provide such information because of the work involved. Perhaps some diligent researcher at a future date will be able to glean this information from the official records. In the meantime, from other sources, it is known that at least one ex-Duke of York's boy was killed in the conflict and that others took part in the fighting. Lance-Corporal Paul Lighfoot of the Royal Signals, who was in the Duke of York's in the mid-seventies, died in the helicopter crash in which 21 men of the SAS lost their lives. Two others, Sergeant Terry Anderson of the 1/7 Gurkhas and Cadet Jeremy MacAnley with the Fleet Auxiliary on the RFA Resource, are known to have taken part.
It is perhaps fitting that this history of boy soldiers should be closed with a reference to the oldest military school unit of the British Army, the Duke of York's Royal Military School (formerly the Royal Military Asylum, it will be recalled) which has provided a steady stream of boy soldier recruits for the army since the institution was established in 18°3, for of them it may be truly said that they are the Sons of the Brave.
Notes
- Miller Report, 1955.
- Miller Report.
- Nye, General Sir A., letTer, July 1954, in Royal United Services Institution Journal.
- Barry, F., corres.
- James, WO II R., corres.
- Wiggins, WO I D., corres.
- Taylor, WO IT., corres.
- Wiggins, ibid.
- Kennelly, R., corres.
- Carol, WO II A., corres.
- Carter, Sgt G., corres.
- Corcoran, Sgt R., corres.
© A. W. Cockerill 2005