There was speculation in April 2010 that the disbandment of the 1st Battalion The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles) was in some way connected with an incident in the Battalion in the early 1960’s. This surfaced in a review written by Brigadier Allan Mallinson in the Times Literary Supplement[i] of A Concise History (of the regiment) by Trevor Royle[ii]. Royle alluded to it briefly in his book. Such a possibility had not occurred to any of the officers who were serving with the regiment at the time of the disbandment and it caused considerable surprise that it should surface, apparently from nowhere, 40 years later. This short paper aims to set out the events which occurred in the period 1962 to 1968, the last six years of the Battalion’s existence.
1st Cameronians, Neuve Chapelle Day Parade, Elizabeth Barracks Minden, 1961
In mid-April 1962 there was a fight in the Coliseum Bar in Minden. It was a rough place frequented by soldiers from throughout the Minden garrison and by bargees (not all German) who plied their trade on the River Weser and the Mittelland Canal which intersect near Minden. The fight spilled outside and an affray took place. No one was seriously injured. As a result 18 soldiers from the Battalion were rounded up and incarcerated. Of these, 15 were dealt with summarily by the Commanding Officer, two were court marshalled, and one was released without charge. The events got some limited publicity in the Scottish press over the Easter weekend (19-22 April).
For some time another issue had been brewing in London. The press were gunning for the Secretary of State for War, John Profumo. They knew of his affair with Christine Keeler[iii]. In those rather more circumspect days this was not sufficient to hang him out to dry, so the press bided their time. Such events as the Minden bar fight were not that unusual in Germany and nor were courts marshal. National Service was still in being and no garrison was without its badhats. A court marshal took place in another part of Germany, in a town called Hilden[iv]. It concerned the brutal treatment of an NCO by a group of men from his own unit. Although the court marshal was announced in the usual way none of the press had picked it up. Profumo, when asked about that in parliament on 8 June, unwisely said, “The press had missed a trick”. This was enough for them to seek revenge; this was their opportunity to get Profumo.
The sequence of events now is not entirely clear. There are stories of corrupted telex (ticker-tape) messages (Milden for Hilden?) and of a court marshal for mutiny in a town called Menden. All that matters is that the press searched their collective memories and very quickly came up with Minden and the April brawl. This was enough. They descended en masse. The fact that the events were long in the past, and the Battalion was not even in Minden when they arrived, mattered little[v]. The press had the stick with which to beat Profumo, and they used it. It took another year before he was forced to resign but the damage was done.
Lieutenant Colonel A. R. Kettles (right), meeting Secretary of State for War, John Profumo, during the latter’s tour of BOAR, August 1962.
The arrival in BAOR of correspondents from the newspapers, radio and television coincided with the Whitsun holiday weekend, 9-11 June. One of the terms picked up by the press in Minden was the word giftzwerg which was translated as ‘poisoned dwarf’. It was used by a Minden citizen in a television interview in which he also said, “We have them too”. From that moment on the name stuck. But it would be quite wrong to see relations between the Battalion and the burghers in a bad light. In a long letter to The Times[vi] the then Colonel of the Regiment, General Sir Horatius Murray, said, inter alia, ‘During my [recent] visit I called on the Bürgermeister [Mayor] of Minden and he expressed his surprise at the attack on the Cameronians by the British press. He said that the people of Minden appreciated very much the help the battalion had given to the town [during recent serious flooding], and he would be only too pleased to show his appreciation for it in any way that lay within his power.’ (Earlier in the same letter General Murray had referred to the fact that no fewer than 8,000 local civilians had turned out to support the battalion football team in one of its matches – the team which went on to win the BAOR Cup.)
When the Battalion was posted to BAOR it was for a normal tour of three years. Within months of the summer brouhaha they were told that their tour had been extended by another year; they were to remain in Minden for a fourth year. (Four year tours were to become the norm in BAOR.) With the opportunity to move the Battalion quietly elsewhere it would seem that the authorities considered that this was neither necessary nor desirable. The remaining period passed relatively quietly. But it was not without incident. In late 1962 there took place a sickening assault by two Riflemen on a totally innocent local civilian. The result was that they were tried by a General Court Marshal for assault occasioning grievous bodily harm, and both sentenced to lengthy terms in prison (12 and 10 years respectively) and dismissed the army. It was a shameful, shocking and unforgivable act so why rake it up it now? For the very good reason that it received almost no publicity and there was absolutely no outcry; the events of the previous summer were never referred to, far less cross-referenced. They were history.
It is worth noting that the Commanding Officer from 1961 to 1964, Lieutenant Colonel Reggie Kettles OBE MC, not only completed a successful tour in command but was later promoted.
The Pipes and Drums leading the guard from Buckingham Palace towards St James’s Palace, November 1965.
When, in spring 1964, the Battalion was posted away from Minden they were posted not to some obscure role in a backwater like Colchester or Salisbury Plain but for two years on public duties in Edinburgh. This was the most prestigious and high-profile role that any Scottish regiment could have. While there in 1964 and 1965 they also provided the Queen’s Guard at Balmoral. And later in 1965 the 1st Battalion, simultaneously, provided guards on public duties in London. These comprised the guards at Buckingham Palace, St James’s Palace, the Tower of London and the Bank of England. It is thought to have been a unique distinction, that a battalion provide the public duties simultaneously in both capitals.
After two years in Edinburgh the Battalion was sent (May 1966) for a nine month unaccompanied tour to the hotspot of Aden. Their role called for the highest standards of morale and discipline. They fulfilled it to the highest expectations. At its close a letter was written by the GOC Middle East Command, Major General Sir John Willoughby, to the Chief of the General Staff. A copy is below. In forwarding the letter to the then Colonel of the Regiment, Lieutenant General Sir George Collingwood, the CGS said: ‘I saw your Battalion in Aden in January, and everywhere I went there was nothing but praise for the way all the men had behaved and acted. I should therefore like to add my most grateful thanks and congratulations for the splendid work that they did.’[vii] It was with this to hand and praise still ringing in their ears that the Battalion returned to Edinburgh.
A four-man patrol moving through the streets of Aden. The fourth man is directly behind No. 3.
On 8 May 1967 the CGS held a briefing in London for all Colonels of Infantry Regiments. This was to tell them of forthcoming cuts to the Army. The same day he sent each of them a copy of his script together with a letter.[viii] In it he asked for recommendations. In a further briefing paper specific to the Lowland Brigade various scenarios are explored[ix]. Discussing methods of effecting a reduction and under the heading of Large Regiment it says (para 4a): (if that route were to be chosen) ‘In the event of reductions the 4th battalion would be disbanded and then the 3rd and so on’. Interestingly, on the subject of disbandment (but not from a large regiment), it says (para 7): ‘Clearly no Colonel of a Regiment will “volunteer” for disbandment, so if this method is selected the Army Board would have to make the decision and everyone abide by it loyally’.[x]
It was decided that it would be right then to consult as widely as possible and in an effort to assess the mood of the Battalion the Commanding Officer took soundings down to the rank of corporal. The question put: in the event that we are chosen for the chop (which no one believed a likely possibility following the Willoughby letter and CGS’s support of it) should we amalgamate or disband and, if the former, with whom? The overwhelming view at all levels was that disbandment was preferable to amalgamation[xi]. This was almost certainly not for any snobbish reasons but for purely pragmatic ones. It would be unacceptable to give up our original name or our status as Rifles; nor would we allow dilution of our traditions and customs, the centuries old product of our founding fathers and of our heritage. The word unique is banded about freely, and quite rightly applies to each and every infantry regiment, but The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles) had more reasons to think of themselves in this light than any other regiment. It must be said also that there was an element of ‘it can’t happen to us’.
And so it was that the Council of Lowland Brigade Colonels made their recommendation. The deadline for this was 15 June. The Colonel of the King’s Own Scottish Borderers (Lieutenant General Sir William Turner) was of the view that a large regiment would be a good idea but the unanimous recommendation did not contain this suggestion[xii]. Interestingly his suggestion was for a large Scottish (as opposed to Lowland) regiment but this was not an option open to them then. In the event no amalgamations were proposed. One could say that as the Cameronians had ‘opted’ to disband it let the other three off the hook. What the other regiments decided is academic and it is not known if soundings were taken in them to the same extent as they had been in the Cameronians.
Watercolour of the 1st Battalion’s Disbandment Service, by Tom Carr, 1968
The basis on which the Army Board decided to proceed were described in a parliamentary answer by James Boyden MP, Under Secretary of State for Defence on 15 July 1968. “… The Chief of the General Staff is reported to have said … last in, first out”. It is clear from that as well as an examination of all of the reductions effected that this was the principle followed.
In Volume IV of the Regimental History it says:
The optimism which members of the battalion felt about their future was soon to prove groundless. On 18 July 1967 the long awaited announcement was made in the House of Commons by the Secretary of State for Defence, Mr Dennis Healey, about cuts in the Army. During the phase of his speech specifying detailed decisions, he announced: ‘Lowland Brigade. The brigade will reduce by one battalion, which is to be the 1st Battalion The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles). The Council of Colonels did not recommend an amalgamation with another battalion in the event of reduction’.
This is not strictly correct. The announcement came in the morning by way of a (written) Supplementary Statement on Defence Policy 1967 (Cmmd Paper 3357 18/7/67). In Chapter IV paragraph 7 it says:
As a result of the cuts in commitments outside Europe, we plan by April 1971 to reduce the Army by 17 major units (or their equivalent) – four armoured units; the equivalent of four artillery units; the equivalent of one engineer unit; and eight infantry battalions. Details are given at Annex II of this Statement.
Annex II lists the eight infantry battalions nominated (starting with the Lowland Brigade) and the quote above. The same wording is used for the Yorkshire Brigade where again the junior regiment, the 1st Battalion The York and Lancaster Regiment was nominated. (It went into suspended animation and was eventually deleted from the Army List.) In three cases (Fusiliers, Light Infantry and North Irish Brigades) the choice was to opt for a large regiment and in each case this was agreed and in each case the junior regiment disappeared at the same time. Other brigades remained unscathed at this time though further cuts were to follow soon.
One might ask why the Lowland Brigade and not the Highland Brigade was cut first. As all of the Highland regiments were junior to all of the Lowland ones, on the basis of last in and first out, one might see some logic in opting to cull from the former first. The major problem with that was that the junior regiment in the Highland Brigade was the Argyll & Sutherland Highlanders and they were in the middle of a high profile and very active tour in Aden[xiii]. It would have been unthinkable to axe them at this juncture. Their turn would come in 1970.
Disbandment: The regimental flag is carried to the communion table by Lieutenant R. A. U. Grant and 2/Lieutenant D. J. P. Corkerton.
Let us now turn to the suggestion that for some reason The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles) were chosen for disbandment as a result of their reputation for what can best be described as irremediable bad behaviour and ill discipline most recently and prominently demonstrated in Minden five years earlier which culminated in the nickname ‘the poisoned dwarfs’. It has been difficult to trace where this rumour started. One reference to it in print is in a book The Atlantis of the Sands by Sir Ranulph Fiennes (1992). In it (page 40) he says:
Qaboos [bin Said], the Sultan [of Oman]’s only son[xiv], had grown up in Salalah, then been educated privately in England. After training at Sandhurst[xv] he became an officer in the Cameronian Regiment. Following street fights leading to the murder of German citizens in the garrison town of Minden, the regiment was disbanded.
Could there be a better example of Chinese whispers and the NAAFI rumour mill working flat out? We have gone from an affray with no one seriously injured to fights (plural) and murders (also plural). We have gone from cause (1962) to effect (1967) without pause. The above also implies that the events in Minden followed after Sultan Qaboos’ secondment, which is not the case.
In a letter to Sir John Baynes (author of the official history Volume IV) dated 30.4.94 Fiennes then wrote:
Dear Sir John
Thank you for your letter of 22.4.94 …
I am extremely sorry that I was taken in by the false stories about the Cameronians and regurgitated them (in two lines) on p40 of the Oman book. Thanks to your letter I now realise that the stories had no basis in fact. I cannot apologise enough and assure you that, in future, I will be sure to correct any re-issue of the Oman book giving the correct events as recorded in the typescript you sent me. I am fully aware that the UK press are capable of inventing stories out of thin air and am more than sorry for proving totally gullible to this one.
With my sincere apologies to you and to the proud regiment of the Cameronians as a whole.
To the list of reasons given earlier (extended tour in Minden, Public Duties, Aden etc) one might add that it would seem strange in the extreme that the future Sultan, having been so carefully groomed at RMA Sandhurst, would have been sent to Minden and to a regiment allegedly notorious for its bad behaviour and ill discipline. In fact he arrived in Minden in early September 1962, barely weeks after the whole poisoned dwarfs episode had so spectacularly hit the UK press.[xvii]
Anxious to try to track down the basis of the original story this writer spoke to Sir Ranulph Fiennes (telecon 31 March 2010). He said that it was “… common currency in BAOR in the late ‘60’s”. Which brings us back to the original rumours because it is quite clear that they were rumours and bar room tittle-tattle and no more than that. To suggest that they are true is to imagine that there was somehow a link between an event of 1962 which, for reasons known only to the press, was blown up out of all proportion, and the decision that the regiment should be nominated for disbandment in 1967. There is no evidence to support this whatsoever. Indeed the evidence in the Defence Statement Annex is quite clear: it was the junior regiment in each brigade which was to go irrespective of any other considerations, and there were no exceptions to this. The policy was as outlined in the parliamentary answer a year later: it was last in; first out. The choice of disbandment as opposed to amalgamation was the overwhelming choice of the battalion and therefore accepted and respected by the Lowland Brigade Colonels and the Army Board.
Given that the reduction in each brigade, including the Lowland Brigade, should be by the most junior regiment of that brigade and that the choice of the regiment was to disband rather than to amalgamate it is hard to see how and why any rumours to the contrary could stand up. Conspiracies are always more alluring than bald facts. Given the bald facts of this case it is to be hoped that conspiracies and rumours will be allowed to take their place where they belong. They have no place in the history of The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles).
PRG
Windsor, April 2010
Footnote: Brigadier Mallinson has since made amends for his 2010 remarks. In a review of my book, A Peer Among Princes, in The Spectator on 7 September 2019, he wrote:
‘… But this review is in part to set the record straight, following an error of mine in 2010 while reviewing a short history of that descendant regiment, the legendary Cameronians. I repeated the view, widely held in the army by those who remembered the fearful cuts to the Scottish infantry in the late 1960’s, that one of the reasons the Cameronians disbanded rather than opt for amalgamation – the only infantry regiment ever to do so – was perhaps because while stationed in Minden, West Germany, there was a mass fight in a local bar between soldiers of the regiment and German youths. In the subsequent investigation, the word giftzwerge – poison dwarf – was used by one of the locals and taken up in the press, the Cameronians being tough if generally diminutive men of Glasgow and Lanarkshire.
Philip Grant, the author of this engaging study, and one of the officers who in 1967 voted for disbandment, wrote to me to refute the calumny, and I promised that when the opportunity came I would set the record straight. I am pleased to have been given such an agreeable opportunity to do so.
[viii] (20/Gen/7196(CGS – Personal and Confidential)).
[ix] The brigade structure was introduced in 1962 with the express purpose of making any further reductions easier.
[x] Copies of both briefing papers and the covering letter are in the regimental archives.
[xi] The summary figures are available in the archives as are all of the written answers of all of the officers.
[xii] Correspondence between the four Colonels of Lowland Regiments, dated 6, 7 and 10 June, is in the regimental archives.
[xiii] They deployed there from Plymouth on 20 June. Their reoccupation of the Crater district was on 3 July.
[xiv] Qaboos bin Said was Sultan following a British backed bloodless coup in 1970. His father died in exile in London. Sultan Qaboos died in January 2020.
[xv] Marne Company, Intake 29 – September 1960 to August 1962.
[xvii] The reason the Cameronians were chosen for his secondment was because of the high regard in which the regiment was held by the then Sultan, Qaboos’s father. It had served with distinction in his support in Oman in 1956. The Commanding Officer of the 1st Battalion in 1962, Lt Col Reggie Kettles OBE MC, had served as a company commander in the Oman operations in 1956.
We are indebted to Major Philip Grant for allowing us to share with you the following article which explores the fascinating story of the 1881 pairing of the 26th and 90th Regiments to create The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles). The article was originally published as a supplement to the 2007 edition of The Covenanter, and we are very grateful to Philip for allowing us to share this recently updated version.
The Formation ofThe Cameronians (Scottish Rifles), 26th and 90th
On 26 June 1882 the 26th Regiment, The Cameronians, paraded at Shorncliffe Barracks, near Folkestone in Kent[1], dressed in a new and, to them, a strange uniform. Gone were their scarlet coats with yellow facings. Gone too were their navy blue trousers and their gleaming brass buttons. In their place were government tartan trews[2] and dark green doublets with black buttons. They were parading to march off their colours for the last time. What was happening to this regiment after 213 years of service?
More than 4,000 miles away the 90th Regiment, The Perthshire Light Infantry, paraded at Cawnpore, not far from Lucknow in Uttar Pradesh, India[3]. They too were dressed in dark green doublets and the same tartan trews, and black buttons. These replaced their red coats with buff facings, and their navy blue trousers, though they had long rejoiced in the nickname the Perthshire Greybreeks[4]. They too were about to parade to march off their colours for the last time.
90th (Perthshire) Light Infantry, Fort William, Calcutta, c.1881. The last time the 90th paraded in scarlet. Copyright SLC.The 2nd Scottish Rifles parading in rifle green for the first time, Cawnpore c.1882. Copyright SLC.
Thus was a new regiment born. Two quite separate entities with widely different histories – and miles apart – were brought together to form the 1st and 2nd Battalions The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles). Now they wore the same uniform and the same new cap-badge. But why, how, and for what purpose was all of this taking place?
A short history of the Regiment says:
‘The original Cameronians were zealous Covenanters. Their devotion to the National Covenant (1638) and the Solemn League and Covenant (1643) meant thatthey would even do battle to defend their freedom to worship as they chose. Their heartland was in southwest Scotland, in Galloway, Ayrshire, and in Clydesdale in particular.
‘When their Ministers were ejected from their parishes the Covenanters followed them to the hills and worshiped at open-air services which came to be called conventicles. As the threat from government forces increased the Covenanters began to carry weapons to their conventicles and to post armedpickets to keep a lookout.’
Religious strife all but ended with the Glorious Revolution; this paved the way for the Covenanters to become part of the regular army.
‘The Regiment was formed in one day, 14 May 1689, ‘without beat of drum’. They mustered on the holm, on the banks of the Douglas Water in South Lanarkshire. Their first Commanding Officer was William Cleland whilst their Colonel was the 19-year-old Earl of Angus, son of the Marquis of Douglas. …
‘The Regiment took its name from Richard Cameron, ‘The Lion of The Covenant’. Originally a field preacher he was killed, a bounty on his head, at the battle of Airds Moss in 1680. …
‘Within weeks of their formation The Cameronians saw action as regular soldiers at the Battle of Dunkeld. There they showed their mettle with a staunch defence against a hugely superior number of rebel Highland troops, though it cost the life of the 28-year-old Cleland. From 1750 they, like all of the regiments of the line, were given a number and were thereafter known as the 26th Regiment of Foot, The Cameronians. …
‘As the 18th century drew to a close Britain faced the threat of war with the French. To counter this the government authorised the raising of a number of new regiments. Amongst them were the 90th (Perthshire Light Infantry)
‘The man who raised the 90th was a Perthshire laird, Thomas Graham of Balgowan. He was born in 1746 and in 1774 he married the Hon. Mary Cathcart. So great was her beauty, and legendary charm, that the famous and fashionable artist Thomas Gainsborough painted her portrait no fewer than four times.
‘Sadly her health was delicate and a constant concern. She and her husband spent much of their time travelling, not least to find weather more congenial to her health. They were sailing in the Mediterranean in 1792 when she died.
‘While her coffin was being brought home by Graham through revolutionary France it was desecrated by an unruly mob of half-drunken men, who searched the corpse for gold in her teeth or rings on her hands. This incident profoundly shocked Graham and filled him with an unrelenting hatred of the French. Whilst he was in Britain burying his beloved wife, France declared war on Great Britain. He therefore set off to check first whether, in his mid-forties, he still had the mettle to be a soldier, and then to raise a regiment against them.
‘The 90th Perthshire Volunteers were raised in 1794 and by the following year had seen action in France. They acquitted themselves so well throughout the Napoleonic Wars that … they were re-designated as Light Infantry[5]. The 90th Perthshire Light Infantry served in the Crimean War 1854-1856 and Private Alexander became the first man in the regiment to win the recently instituted Victoria Cross[6].
‘In 1857 they were in India where at the relief of Lucknow, one of the most famous operations in the Indian Mutiny, the regiment won a further six Victoria Crosses there. After service in 1879 in South Africa during the Zulu War they were sent again to India.’
It is worth pausing here perhaps to look at this question: what is a Rifle Regiment; why all the fuss?
‘By the end of the eighteenth century several European armies included infantry specialised in the rolls of skirmishing and reconnaissance and the British followed the formation of the 5th Battalion of the 60th Royal Americans with the creation in 1800 of an Experimental Corps of Riflemen, its members hand-picked from other regiments, dressed in green and armed with the Baker rifle. Within four months of its first parade the new unit led an assault landing at Ferrol [Corunna, Spain] and two months later it ceased to be `experimental` and was gazetted under the new title of The Rifle Corps. Its first Colonel…was one of a handful of officers whose thinking shaped the Light Infantry of the Army.’
Later the Rifle Brigade (as it became) was grouped with the 43rd and 52nd (later the Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire Light Infantry [see also below]) as well as the 60th (or King’s Royal Rifle Corps) in what was known as the Light Brigade[8].
These hand-picked soldiers equipped with a superior weapon – a rifle as opposed to a musket – and moving in double-quick time – established a new and a special force. They also added a new element to the battlefield: in depth reconnaissance.
As the rifle regiments were not part of the line there was no call for them to have colours to which they would in time of crisis be trained to rally. Thus was born the tradition of the elite, the special service troops of their day.
1st Battalion The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles) laying up the colours of the 26th Cameronians Regiment, Glasgow Cathedral, July 9th 1885.
But this regiment has even older antecedents (though much younger than many of the regiments of the line, including the 26th). The Royal Green Jackets website says:
‘On 8th July 1755 a column of British redcoats under General Braddock, advancing to take Fort Duquesne on theOhio River were ambushed by the French and their Red Indian [native American] Allies firing from concealed positions. The dying General’s last words ‘we shall learn better how to do it next time`, sum up the reaction at home to this defeat, for within a few months a special Act of Parliament had provide for the raising of the 60th Royal American Regiment of four battalions of American colonists. Among the distinguished foreign officers given commissions was Henri Bouquet, a Swiss citizen, whose ideas on tactics, training and man-management (including the unofficial introduction of the rifle and ‘battle-dress`) were to become universal in the Army only after another 150 years.
‘The new regiment fought at Louisburg in 1758 and Quebec in 1759 in the campaign which finally wrested Canada from France; at Quebec it won from Wolfe the motto ‘Celer et Audax’ (Swift and Bold). These were conventional battles on the European model, but the challenge of Pontiac`s Red Indian rebellion in 1763 was of a very different character and threatened the British control of North America. The new regiment at first lost several outlying garrisons but finally proved its mastery of forest warfare under Bouquet’s leadership at the decisive victory of Bushey Run.’
Thus we have the green jackets: forest skirmishers with a lighter and a more accurate weapon, dressed in camouflage and moving ahead of and separate from the infantry of the line. It was they who presaged the end of pitched battles and eventually the demise of fixed formations: the serried ranks of redcoats. Naturally they thought themselves superior in ever way to the heavyweight movers and thinkers of the line regiments.
It is no surprise then that they considered themselves an elite – even if nobody else did – nor that some of their officers earned the sobriquet of ‘rich, rude rifles’.
Such was the experience of the Army as a whole in the Crimean War that it was clear that major reforms were necessary. The performance of the Prussian army in the Franco-Prussian War (1870-1871) reinforced the view that major reforms were not just necessary but overdue. They are usually referred to as the Cardwell Reforms[9] and it should be noted that though they are usually associated with regimental reorganisations they encompassed a great deal more including the abolition of the purchase of commissions and many changes to terms of enlistment for soldiers, as well as the abolition of corporal punishment.
The eventual outcome (post 1881) was that all infantry regiments were given two battalions, the idea being that one of these would serve at home whilst the other served abroad, usually in India. Recruits for both would be trained at a Regimental Depot in the heart of the regimental recruiting area, and from there drafts of trained men would be sent to both battalions. But these reforms took time and it is only through unravelling the various stages that they went through that we are able to see how the 26th and 90th came to be joined.
The first changes took place in 1874 when all regiments were grouped together in combined depots with the regiments there being paired. There were normally two pairs, four regiments, to each depot. The home regiment of the pair was then responsible for providing drafts of trained men for the overseas one.
A new depot was established at Hamilton in Lanarkshire to serve not just four regular regiments but also two battalions of militia and five of the Lanarkshire Rifle Volunteers[10]. The 26th (Cameronians) were paired there with the 74th Highlanders and the 73rd Highlanders were paired with the 90th (Perthshire Light Infantry).
The Zulu War of 1879 then starkly pointed up the inadequacies of this pairing system and there was a new mood to push through even greater reforms so that, instead of having paired regiments, full-blown amalgamations would take place, with the outcome that each new regiment had two halves ie two battalions. Only then would the necessary flexibility be obtained.
‘In 1876 the Stanley Committee, set up to report on ‘the general working of the present depot system’ recommended the formation of territorial regiments. Five years later the government decided to carry out its recommendations. A committee presided over by the Adjutant General[12] worked out a scheme for constituting and naming the territorial regiments[13], involving in some cases a readjustment of the ‘linking’.
‘Under this scheme the 26th was divorced from the 74th and joined with the 90th Light Infantry to form The Scotch Rifles Cameronians.’
Lieutenant Colonel David Murray in A Tribute to The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles) has written[14]:
‘Among the more surprising amalgamations of the 1881 reorganisation of the infantry was that of the 26th Cameronian Regiment with the 90th Perthshire Light Infantry. Another surprise had been the creation of two localised regiments of ‘Rifles’, the Royal Irish Rifles and the Scotch Rifles (Cameronians) changed smartly to the Cameronians (Scottish Rifles) a couple of months later.
‘The 26th were no doubt pleased that their ancient name was to be retained, but the 90th Perthshire Light Infantry was not at all amused at being forcibly connected with a steady, not to say dull, old line regiment with whom it had no previous connection[15]. Indeed, the 90th claimed to have been raised and trained as Light Infantry several years before the concept had been introduced into the British Army, although the title had not been formally granted until 1815. …
‘Field Marshal Lord Wolseley, who served in the 90th, makes no mention of their origin in his memoirs, claiming memorably that ‘[The officers of my regiment] … thought themselves socially superior to the other regiments of the Line, which were always spoken of as ‘Grabbies’. Many were well connected, and some were well off. … It was in every respect a home for gentlemen, and in that respect much above the great bulk of line regiments.’[16]’
‘Appendix A to General Order 41 of 1 May 1881 set out the Ellice Committee’s first proposals. It shows that the 26th and the 90th were both thrown into the Scotch broth pot and no doubt took pot luck, the 26th emerging with the 74th as The Scotch Rifles’ while the 90th were to be paired with the 73rd as The Clydesdale Regiment’ (Light Infantry). While the proposed pairings for the Highland regiments appear to have been based on the compatibility of their facing colours (42nd with 79th, both blue; 71st and 78th, buff; 72nd and 91st, yellow; and 92nd and 93rd, also yellow) those envisaged for the remaining Scottish regiments have no common link the facings of the 26th being yellow, the 74th white; the 73rd green, and the 90th buff.
‘However, the expected row ensued; these first leaked pairings were dropped; and those regiments which were part of the Scottish scene until 1958 eventuallyappeared.’
All of this is a bit breathless. Nor indeed does the Regimental History really help with enough or better detail. It is worthwhile therefore to go back and to dig a bit deeper.
Study of papers lodged in the National Archives throws up a lot more detail and as a result is worth quoting. In a Memorandum of 1880[17] we find:
Army Organisation – Infantry Only – Normal
‘Part I. The double or linked battalion system was introduced for the purpose of facilitating foreign reliefs. … This [system] presupposes that of the two linkedbattalions, one is abroad whilst the other is at home. In practice, however, this has never been invariably the case. …
‘Part II. A Synthesis. … Therefore the battalions were linked but the desired object of the one battalion serving abroad, whilst its fellow is at home has not been attained. The Committee, in linking the battalions, appear to have found that it was impossible … to have regard to the historical relationships of the various battalions, which formed one of the features of the linking, and yet to link them, or that their future respective periods of service at home and abroad would admit of the one returning home at the time the other had completed its tour of home service. Failure in this matter is one of the causes of the alleged failure of the existing system.’
These were some of the considerations which led eventually to the Report of the Committee on the Formation of Territorial Regiments[18] as proposed by Colonel Stanley’s Committee and dated December 1880.[19]
Here we read:
‘…
‘3. There are several reasons for considering a re-adjustment of the present coupling of regiments as desirable. In some cases traditional sentiment, in others local considerations, in others again questions of clothing and uniform point to the fact that certain alterations in the existing linking would be attended with advantages. [Here reference is made to two couplings only, the first being to that of the 43rd and 52nd based on their long and close ties stemming from the Peninsular War 70 years earlier. See also above.] … while on the other hand, the 26th Cameronians, a lowland and originally a Covenanter Regiment, is linked to the strongly Highland 74th. As the 26th was originally raised for the purposes of opposing the Highlanders, it is manifest that its regimental traditions, and the feeling which these traditions always engender, must clash seriously with those of the 74th.’
Before passing on to the all-important Appendices to this report it is worth pausing to note that although the committee interviewed a number of officers from various regiments none was interviewed from the 26th (or 90th) and the word of an officer of the 74th was taken as being enough. He was not wrong.
Appendix I (of the above committee report) has a table showing the composition and uniform of the proposed territorial regiments. It notes the old and the new uniforms and facings colours.
Appendix II is headed:
‘Table Showing Territorial Regiments in Alphabetical Order’
It then lists them under the geographical locations of their depots:
This is the first mention we find of these new Rifle Regiments and what immediately strikes today’s reader is the surprise that the honour is accorded first to the 26th and without any reference to the 90th. We must return to this but it is worth completing first our study of this report and its final part:
‘Appendix III
Table Showing Proposed New Linking’
Here for the first time we see:
‘Rifle Regiment
The Scotch Rifles, 26th and 90th, Hamilton’
Note: this was in Appendix III of the same Report which mooted Scotch Rifles for the first time, but with a different conjunction, the 90th having now replaced the 74th for this favour.
So we have reached home base and arrived at the point we would have expected, but not from the route or direction we had expected; not by any means. It is no exaggeration to say that the discovery of this document stands on its head what has come to be the received wisdom and the accepted folklore, both in the Regiment and shared by Lieutenant Colonel Murray and others, about the naming of the regiment and the pairing of its components.
One must pause momentarily to dismiss any thought that chicanery of any kind entered into this. It is fanciful to suppose that Appendix II is just window dressing. It seems beyond doubt that what we read is what was actually planned, no matter how inconvenient the truth.
The present writer helped to perpetuate the myth as recently as an article in the Covenanter of 2005. No doubt was cast on his views: indeed the general opinion amongst his (albeit limited) readership seemed to be that he had got it about right. He wrote:
‘Historically there was always a tradition of very senior officers being produced by or associated with the Regiment, though in truth, up to 1881, this was based almost entirely on the 90th. They had the distinction of producing no fewer than two Commanders-in-Chief of the army and two Field Marshals – Sir Garnet Wolseley was both. Their founder was himself one of the most distinguished. He was Lieutenant General Sir Thomas Graham of Balgowan, who later became Lord Lynedoch and was the Duke of Wellington’s ablest commander[22]. Others were General Sir Rowland (later Lord) Hill, like Graham, ennobled for his leadership in the Napoleonic wars (Commander-in-Chief 1828-1842) and Field Marshal Sir Evelyn Wood VC (Acting Commander-in-Chief in 1890).
‘Another distinction which the 90th had: three VC’s were to command the Regiment.
‘Lest it seem that the military virtues were a bit one-sided, or that the 90th were marrying a bit beneath themselves, the sheen and shimmer of the 90th should be seen against the deep lustre of the 26th. Not only had they 200 years of distinguished service to the Crown – everywhere from Marlborough’s Blenheim to Napier’s campaign in Abyssinia – they had also earned themselves an impressive record in the soldierly skill of rifle shooting. In the Army in India they came third in 1873 and first the following year. Back on home service they competed in the Army Championships at Bisley coming third in 1876 and first in 1877. Indeed the Regimental History (Volume I) goes so far as to suggest: ‘Perhaps its [recent?] success in marksmanship … was responsible for this decision [to name the new regiment The Scottish Rifles and to make the 26th the 1st Battalion]’.
‘Maybe that is not such a long shot. It is said that Queen Victoria personally decreed that the 90th be chosen for promotion to become a rifle regiment following their excellent service as LightInfantry.’
What we see now, however, is that it is the 26th who were granted the distinction, the promotion, to the elevated status of Rifles. The designation of Scotch Rifles predates the uncoupling of the 26th with the 74th. It was an after-thought that the 90th be joined with them. We will return to this later.
In the light of this we must examine again the basis for the original decision. Above one sees the first mention of the idea that the 26th were selected for their marksmanship. There is another reason too why they might have been selected. Of all of the regiments of the line, the 26th was the senior which had only one battalion. All of the other 25, including the 1st (later Royal Scots) and the 21st (Royal Scots Fusiliers) named as being Scotland-based, had two or more battalions already and so were in no need of linking or pairing, far less did they have to be turned into two-battalion regiments. (The 25th – later King’s Own Scottish Borderers – were from 1782 to 1887 considered an English county regiment before their recruiting area was moved to the Scottish Borders. From 1860 to 1948 they also had two battalions.)
If indeed the decision was taken (by whom and for what purpose is less important) to have Scotch Rifles, why would the planners look further than the senior single battalion? If they were also the pre-eminent rifle shots the case was closed.
For the decision regarding the final name we must wait a bit longer, and there too a story attaches itself. But in passing, it should be noted that whatever else came out of all of the discussions, the name of the Perthshire Light Infantry Volunteers (and all of its variants) was the one which was lost, together with any lingering links to its historical heartland in Perthshire. The new 2nd Battalion were content to call themselves the 2nd Scottish Rifles, indeed it was only the 1st Battalion which clung to their old name of Cameronians. Other battalions such as the 5th were always 5th Scottish Rifles.
We should now turn to another source for some background and for that we are indebted to Her Majesty The Queen for her gracious permission to quote from papers in the Royal Archives[23]. The first one of interest is a letter from General Sir Charles Ellice, the Adjutant General,[24] to Queen Victoria’s Private Secretary, Sir Henry Ponsonby, in which he writes:
‘15.2. [18]81
My dear Ponsonby
[And here he gives various options for pairing Highland regiments but note: it seems that the interest now was not in the colours of their tunic facings – see above – but on which tartan they would each agree to wear.]
…
72]
78] 72 have asked to wear the Mackenzie (78) tartan.
42]
93] New link. Both Regts agree to wear the same tartan so can raise no objection.
79]
92] Not settled but as the 79th[will?] not wear their clan (Cameron) tartan …
71]
74] 74 ask to adopt 71st tartan
73]
91] 73 not having tartan trews gladly accept gt [government] tartan.
What seems quite obvious from this (and borne out later, see below) is that the last was the most straightforward and presented no complications to anyone. The comment about their sentiments – ‘delighted’ – is telling.
However we are not out of the wood yet – and there is plenty of that. The next extract from the Royal Archives is a memorandum by Ellice dated 28 February 1881 (just two weeks after his letter above to Ponsonby). This has yet another set of combinations and permutations, with one exception, and that is the first he lists:
‘MINUTE PAPER
1. The following scheme of proposed relinking is submitted, together with a short statement of the reasons in favour of its adoption.
Proposed Re-thinking
26th}
90th} The Cameronian Rifles
42nd}
79th} The Black Watch & Cameron Royal Highland Regiment (Queen’s Own)
71st}
74th} The Highland Light Infantry Regiment
72nd}
78th} The Seaforth Regiment (Highlanders}
73rd}
91st} The Argyll Regiment (Princess Louise’s Highlanders
92nd}
93rd} The Gordon & Sutherland Highland Regiment
‘2. The formation of a Scotch regiment of Rifles is recommended by Sir Charles Ellice’s Committee on the formation of the Territorial regiment in clauses 19 & 20. Both the 26th (Cameronians) and the 90th (Perthshire Volunteers) have signified their willingness to be linked together & to become Rifles. The 26th are however especially anxious not to lose their title of Cameronians to which the regiment is much attached.
‘It would appear therefore that to link the 26th & 90th together with the title of Cameronian Rifles would carry out the recommendation of the Committeewithout being in any way repugnant to the feelings of the regiments affected. It would further have the advantage of doing away with the inconvenience attendant on the present linking of the lowland Cameronians to the Highland 74th.’
‘3.’ […etc And he goes on to explore various other arguments about all of the other pairings.] [26]
This is reproduced at Figure 2.
Figure 2
The point to note here is that once again the 26th / 90th arrangement seems the easiest settled, not least because of the feelings in the regiments. It is interesting to note that the 90th would appear to be satisfied, even then, with the proposed new title. To be Rifles was presumably enough, and of that too, more later.
The next important correspondence in the Royal Archives is a letter from Sir Henry Ponsonby to General Sir Charles Ellice:
‘November 6 1881
‘My dear Ellice
‘The word “Scots” was adopted by the 2 Dragoons [Greys] and the 3rd[Scots] Guards and the late 21st Regiment [Royal Scots Fusiliers] in the last century as an abbreviated form of expression and they should not be disturbed in the enjoyment of it.
‘But there is no reason why a new title is to be created in this form.
‘The word “Scotch” which apparently contrasted fairly with “Irish” is not considered convenient. The Queen desires that the name given to the Cameronians should be that usually adopted by the people of the North and consequently used by the 7th Middlesex Volunteers. [What this refers to cannot be guessed.]
Her Majesty therefore wishes that the Cameronians should be called “The Scottish Rifles”
And so the whole matter was eventually settled. There was still some way to go to get a final version of the other pairings. These were first proposed in a memorandum sent by Sir Charles Ellice with a letter dated 23 February 1881 and it is worth quoting here as it gives the pairings as eventually adopted ie those which survived until 1958. Note however that the locations for their depots were not always the final choice
‘Scheme for the coupling of Scotch Regiments
26}
90} Scotch Rifles (Cameronians) – Hamilton
42}
73} Black Watch – Perth
71}
74} Highland Light Infantry – Hamilton
72}
78} Seaforth Highlanders – Inverness
79}
2 Bns Cameron Highlanders – Aberdeen
91}
93} Argyll & Sutherland – Stirling
92}
75}[sic] Gordon Highlanders – Fort George
‘2.….
‘3. The kilting of the 73rd, 75th, and 91st Regiments.
…[etc] and later
‘If this coupling be adopted for Scotch Regts, that of the English becomes an easy matter’[28]
This last, a most telling comment! Plus ça change…
The details concerning other regiments need not detain us here. What is to be noted is that in the course of 1881 the necessary decisions had been made and the course was clear for the new regiment, The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles).
Lieutenant Colonel Murray makes an interesting comment when he says (apropos the choice of the 90th to accept union with the 26th):
‘As always there were those who claimed that this apparent mismatch was the result of stupidity, ignorance, or simply a mistake.’
He then goes into some detail about the 99th who had been re-raised as the Lanarkshire Regiment but who eventually found themselves tied to the 62nd (Wiltshire) Regiment. He makes various suggestions of what might have been. He goes on:
‘Unfortunately for those who believed in the conspiracy theory the truth is more prosaic.’
He continues with the passage quoted earlier. But this writer is of the opinion that the truth is far from prosaic and indeed there was, in his opinion, almost certainly an amount of ‘fixing’ going on behind the scenes. It seems much more likely that strings were being pulled and committee-men squared by reasoned persuasion. Considering two key figures this seems not just possible but highly likely.
As noted above, the 90th Light Infantry boasted two ex-officers who were the outstanding soldiers of their time and whose careers were inextricably intertwined. This was no accident: the older chose and nurtured the younger. They eventually became Field Marshal Sir Garnet (later Viscount) Wolseley and Field Marshal Sir Evelyn Wood VC. The former was Commander in Chief 1895-1900 and, when he had to retire through ill health, he was succeeded temporarily by the latter who was then the Adjutant General.
Field Marshal Wolseley (centre) with General Wood VC (on his right) with the officers of 2nd Scottish Rifles, Isle of Wight, 1896. Copyright SLC.
For much of their careers they were, along with the rest of ‘Wolseley’s Circle’ accused of conniving and colluding. It is well known that Wolseley was at the heart of the Army reforms. It is perhaps naïve to think that Wood was not in some way implicated as well. One might go further: Wood has been described as, amongst other things, a towering snob. He also had the ear of Queen Victoria.
The Regimental History says, and it is often quoted, that Queen Victoria herself decided that there should be Scotch (as well as Irish) Rifles but the source of this has not been traced even in the Royal Archives. We have already seen that it was Queen Victoria’s choice that ‘Scottish Rifles’ be used instead of ‘Scotch Rifles’. But that is a long way from proving (or otherwise) the assertion that she personally decided on the formation of the two new rifle regiments. It seems fanciful to suppose that she woke one morning and, looking out on the Great Park at Windsor (or even on the hills of her beloved Deeside at Balmoral), said to herself, “I know: let’s have some Scotch Rifles!” Does it not seem more likely that an interested party made a comment sufficient for the Queen to see the wisdom (suitably admired by all) of such a choice?
Garnet Wolseley was the outstanding soldier of his day. His fame was such that the phrase ‘All Sir Garnet’ entered the language as a description close to that of ‘all shipshape and Bristol fashion’ or ‘just so; just as it should be’. He earned immortality as the model for Sir WS Gilbert’s ‘Modern Major General’ in the operetta The Pirates of Penzance. He first came to prominence in the public (as opposed to the purely military) domain when he returned triumphant after his campaign in the Ashanti War. On his return, in March 1874, he was summoned by Queen Victoria to Windsor. A biography of him says[29]:
‘The Queen reviewed the general’s little army. … After inspection [they] formed a hollow square. Sir Garnet dismounted and came forward to be invested by Her Majesty with the Grand Cross of the Order of St Michael and St George and of a Knight Commander of the Bath.
‘That evening Sir Garnet was received in the Houses of Parliament where the benches and galleries were crowded with the nation’s leaders. … The general was given a grant of £25,000* approved unanimously in the House of Commons, and promoted to the rank of Major General ‘for distinguished service in the field’.
‘Pressure was put on him to accept a baronetcy [which he declined]. … If it had not been for the fall of the Gladstone government he was sure he would have been offered a peerage[30].’
He was 39 years old. He had already been knighted (KCMG), as a Colonel, four years earlier.
One of the officers on parade that day was the 36 year-old Evelyn Wood VC. In his memoirs he wrote[31]:
‘Soon after our return from the West Coast [of Africa] we were honoured by a command to Windsor, officers of the rank of Lieutenant Colonel and upwards only being invited to dine at the Royal table and to remain the night at the Castle.
‘… I received three month’s leave for the recovery of my health, at the end of which I had hoped to join the Headquarters of my battalion at Dover, but the Lieutenant Colonel then in command did not wish to have a full Colonel with him, who would very often, in Field operations, have command of the brigade, and persuaded my brother-officer and junior, Major Rogers[32], to come from the Depot to Headquarters.’
Officers of the 90th at Dover, 1874. Lieut-Col. Palmer centre, with Major M. Rogers VC on his right, and Colonel E. Wood VC on his left. Copyright SLC.
I should think not! But this small extract from his memoirs is worth quoting. It is vintage Wood.
He had joined the Navy first and was serving on-shore in an army role in the Crimea when he first came to prominence. Aged just 17, a Midshipman, he was recommended for a VC for his actions at the storming of the Redan in 1855[33]. Within months he had resigned the Navy and been awarded a commission without purchase in the 13th Light Dragoons. Having transferred to the 17th Light Dragoons he won his VC the following year when serving on detachment with the 3rd Light Cavalry. He then raised and commanded the 2nd Central India Horse. By 1862 he had transferred to the 73rd Regiment (later 2nd Battalion The Black Watch) and then from them to the 17th Foot. After various staff appointments he purchased a majority in the 90th. This was his last move. His last regimental service was in command of the 90th.
Space here is too short to do justice to his extraordinary career. This is a summary of a few of its highlights:
1920: He died at Harlow, Essex. His memorial is in St Paul’s Cathedral, London.
The Ashanti campaign was the occasion on which Wood joined the Wolseley circle. Wood’s description of his recruitment is:
‘Sir Garnet’s original intention had been to take two battalions each about 1300 strong, made up of picked men from the most efficient battalions in the Army at home, each of which was to furnish a company under its officers, and I was to have command of one of these.’
Those who criticised Wolseley’s modus operandi did so on the basis that it smacked of favouritism. Those in the circle would have pointed out that it was merit, ability and reputation which mattered. All that matters here is that Wood joined this charmed band and was to remain a part of it for the rest if his career – which saw them both at the top of the tree twenty years later.
So in 1874 we see them both returning triumphant from West Africa to be received as heroes. But it is where they were seven years later which is of interest and import. Wolseley, as we have seen, attracted attention early on as a successful commander in the field. There was another side to him however. His biographer says:
‘On May 1st 1871 Sir Garnet was appointed Assistant Adjutant General at the insistence of Cardwell, who was to regard him as his chief military advisor. To Wolseley it was the opportunity of a lifetime. Ever since his experiences in the Crimea he had been appalled by the shortcomings of the military system. With each succeeding campaign a gnawing impatience for reform grew in him.
‘… Strangely different in so many ways the politician and the soldier developed an intimate friendship and worked efficiently as a team – Cardwell with the blue-prints and Wolseley giving them practical shape.
‘… After the purchase struggle [the abolition of the purchase of commissions which had been fiercely opposed in many, including royal, circles] Wolseley busied himself with working out the details involved in the problem of regimental reorganisation, another of Cardwell’s sweeping reforms.
‘… As a reward for his services in resuscitating the army from the suffocating effects of prejudice and tradition Cardwell arranged for Wolseley to command the military expedition to be sent against the ferocious Ashanti in West Africa.
‘… The General [Wolseley] was limited to the selection of 36 staff and special service officers. In making his choice from among the many volunteers he looked for thinking soldiers who had more than their fair share of courage.
‘… This was the Ashanti Ring. It was a splendid staff of able, and in some instances, brilliant men. … He believed the surest way to succeed was to surround himself with the very best officers he could obtain.’
No doubt Wood thought himself eminently suited on every count.
Of this time (1871) Wolseley himself wrote, on being posted to London[38]:
‘… Horse Guards, [was] then the Headquarters of the Army[39]. That wonderful institution, which had forgotten nothing and had learnt nothing[i] since Waterloo, was sadly behind the times in every way.
‘… In common with a number of our educated officers in 1871, I knew what was wrong in the Army and I did not hesitate to expose it. I preached reform in and out of season. … I was impatient and in a hurry: my nature would not brook the sapping of a regular siege: I wanted to assault the place at once, and I did so.
‘… But my best chance was that I found in office a great Minister at the head of Army matters: a clear-headed, logical-minded lawyer [Cardwell].’
This was his first bite at reform. Thereafter, as we have seen he was rewarded with command in the Ashanti Campaign. For his next posting he expected to be made Adjutant General to Lord Napier in India but instead was called back to the War Office to become Inspector General of Auxiliary Forces. He had no sooner embarked on that than he was once more sent to Africa. By 1878, promoted to Lieutenant General, he was High Commissioner of the newly acquired island colony of Cyprus.
By 1879 the situation in South Africa was slipping out of control and ‘… the Ministry wanted him to clean up the mess in Zululand’[40]. To do so:
‘… They selected a soldier-administrator who boasted of unbroken success and considerable knowledge of South African affairs, Sir Garnet Wolseley. Appointed to the local rank of General he was invested with supreme power as commander of Her Majesty’s forces in South Africa and High Commissioner for South-East Africa.
‘… When Disraeli [Prime Minister] imparted the news to Wolseley he asked how soon he could start. “By the four o’clock train this afternoon if you wish it”, was the characteristic reply.’
Before leaving South Africa (in the spring of 1880) he learned that he had been nominated Quartermaster General[41].
‘In England Wolseley learned that his popularity had reached new heights. …He had proved himself master of the small war. …The press sang his praises and, borrowing Disraeli’s fanciful appellation, dubbed him “our only General”.
‘He returned to the War Office a little older [though still only 47] and somewhat saddened, prepared to act as a flesh-and-blood battering ram to break down the wall of prejudice, inertia and stupidity in order to create a more efficient army.
‘… The introduction of the territorial system produced more friction and hard feelings than any single major reform. To be linked with another battalion, as Cardwell conceived it, was bad enough, but to be permanently welded with a subsequent loss of historic numbers, traditions, and exclusive battle honours won with blood was an intolerable innovation to most soldiers. Even the treasured regimental facings were to be obliterated. … The Quartermaster General respected the regimental spirit that had kept the British soldiery together for two centuries but he now wanted to see this collection of regiments transformed into an army.’
This is where we find Wolseley in 1881, in the thick of reform and at the heart of the War Office where once more he could pull the levers if not of power at least of influence. It did not endear him to the Commander-in-Chief, the Duke of Cambridge, or to the C-in-C’s cousin Queen Victoria. They felt that the Army should remain under the direct and personal control of the sovereign. Times had however already changed and the real power had already shifted to the politicians. The last vestige of regal power had made its irrevocable transition to full constitutional monarchy.
In 1882 Wolseley was promoted to General and became Adjutant General. With intermittent breaks to command campaigns in Egypt and the Sudan he remained there until 1890. So from 1880 to 1890 he held the two key appointments in the War Office. It is hard to exaggerate the influence he had then over the army’s management and organisation. Has any other officer ever held these two pivotal appointments consecutively for longer?
From 1890 to 1895 he was C-in-C Ireland during which time he was promoted Field Marshal. He finally reached the peak of his profession when in 1895 he succeeded the Duke of Cambridge as the Commander-in-Chief. Merit had finally triumphed.
Meanwhile where was Wolseley’s prodigy, Evelyn Wood VC?
The campaign in South Africa saw him up to his neck in action as usual. The fact that he was mentioned in dispatches no fewer than fourteen times speaks for itself. He was ‘nominally’ (his own word) in command of his Regiment, the 90th, though his energies were directed towards commanding a column (or flank). For his actions he was promoted Brigadier General and appointed KCB (1879). By January 1881 he was needed again. Let him take up the story in his own words:[42]
‘On 4 January I received a note from the Military Secretary asking me in the name of the Commander-in-Chief if I would return to South Africa to serve under Sir George Colley [General and High Commissioner, in succession to Wolseley[43]], to whom I was one senior in the Army List, and requesting me to go to London to discuss the question. I agreed to go out on the Adjutant General’s observing, “Your rank, pay and allowances will be the same as at Chatham [where he was District Commander].”
‘In a Letter of Service received on the 6th it was stated that I was going out as a Colonel on the Staff. This I declined by telegraph, recalling the previous day’s conversation, and was again ordered to the War Office. Though the Adjutant General predicted I should regret it I maintained my position. In the result a fresh Letter of Service was handed to me with the rank of Brigadier General which I had held at Chatham and also when I left the Colony 18 months earlier, having command in two campaigns and five fights a strong brigade of all Arms.
‘Lord Kimberley [Colonial Secretary] sent for me and explained his views of the question of the Zulu and Swazi states after the annexation had been annulled, whichhe gave me to understand he already accepted in principle. I took leave of Her Majesty the Queen, who was very gracious to me, on 7th January, and sailed on the 14th, reaching Cape Town on the 7th February.’
There are two points to note here. The first is that it seems inconceivable that when Wood presented himself at the War Office to discuss his future role with AG he did not consult his mentor, Wolseley, sitting next door in the office of QMG. Their careers were too intertwined for him not to; it’s not how Wolseley operated anyway. The second point is his reference to the Queen, and we shall return to that because it is not without importance.
One should also bear in mind the dates. This is exactly the time (January / February 1881) when AG and his committee are putting the final touches to their recommendations to HM through her Private Secretary, Ponsonby.
After a year in South Africa, Wood returned to the command of his District at Chatham. He writes[44]:
‘I had many reasons to be grateful to Her Most Gracious Majesty the Queen who invested me shortly after my arrival with the Grand Cross of St Michael and St George.’
But his time in England was all too short. By August he had been given command of the 4th Brigade and embarked for Alexandria in Egypt.
‘… Her Majesty, coming on board [SS Catalonia] to say goodbye to us. She embraced my wife and was very gracious to me. She had honoured me with a long interview in July, when I was commanded to Windsor, and treated me with a condescension for the memory of which I shall be ever grateful.’
By Christmas 1882 he was back in Cairo and, appointed Sirdar (or Commander-in Chief), was charged with raising an Egyptian army. In August the following year he took two month’s leave and returned to Britain.
‘Her Majesty the Queen was graciously pleased to command me to stay at Balmoral[45] and took much interest in the Egyptian Army.’
The point of all of this is not just to trace Wood’s extraordinary career – fascinating as it is – but to look at the way in which he enjoyed easy and regular access to the Queen. Considering that even now he was but a 50 year-old Major General (albeit weighed down with myriad decorations and honours, starting with his VC), his access and his easy relations with her were highly unusual. From where did that stem, and what were the implications?
There are several strands to this story. Bearing in mind Wood’s character it might not be wise to assume that he is a totally disinterested party. Putting it mildly one might assume that he perhaps put to good use what connections he had with the Queen. He probably felt that, having been born into a family of courtiers, he already had the right to put one foot on the steps of the throne. He wrote:
‘My father, John (later Sir John, Bart) Page Wood, Clerk in Holy Orders, … was educated at Winchester and Cambridge. He took his degree early in 1820 and was immediately appointed Chaplain and Private Secretary to Queen Caroline[46].’
In South Africa in 1879 he met the Prince Imperial[47] who was serving there. A few weeks later and the young prince was dead. Later that year Wood was back in London.
‘When Her Imperial Majesty the Empress Eugénie [mother of the Prince Imperial] read in the newspapers the account of the Fishmongers’ banquet on the 30th September[48], and the allusion to her noble son beautifully expressed in Shakespeare’slanguage*, she sent for me and after several prolonged interviews I was commanded to Windsor where Her Majesty [Queen Victoria] was graciously pleased to honour me with the charge of the Empress on a journey she was undertaking to the spot where her gallant son perished. The Queen enjoined on me the greatest care for the safety of her Sister [they were not in fact related in any way], and I replied that I could only accept full responsibility if H.I.M. the Empress would follow my instructions as if she were a soldier in my command. This was arranged and on the 25th March the Empress sailed from Southampton for Cape Town and Durban.
‘Her Imperial Majesty [the Empress] had sent me a cheque for £ 5,000· desiring me to purchase everything required and to defray all charges.’
For the next three months Wood conducted her on an 800-mile tour of South Africa, including the site of her son’s death, often driving the horses himself. In total he was away for six months, all of it taken as unpaid leave. No doubt he thought it worthwhile none-the-less.
‘After giving a personal report of the journey to Her Majesty [Queen Victoria], for which purpose Lady Wood and I received a command to Osborne[49], I resumed my work at Chatham.’
Medal presented to General Evelyn Wood by Empress Eugénie to commemorate their journey to South Africa in 1880. A similar medal was presented to Mrs Wood. Copyright SLC.
This is the summer of 1880. This is exactly when the committees are meeting in the War Office and all of the reorganisations are being planned. His final comment, at the end of his autobiography:
‘In the evening of the 22nd January [1901] Her Imperial Majesty the Queen [Victoria] died, and beside my personal grief, I realised I had lost a Patroness who since the Zulu war [1878-79] had treated me with the most gracious kindness’
Amongst other things Queen Victoria was godmother to the Woods’ daughter, Victoria, and he tells us that on the death of his wife ten years earlier:
‘Nothing could be more touching than the gracious solicitude of Her Majesty theQueen, who offered to come to Aldershot to see Lady Wood before she died. … Her Majesty sent me a beautifully expressed letter of compassion …’
Nothing at all has been traced to suggest that Wood used his influence and proximity to Queen Victoria to further the cause of the 90th, but there must remain a suspicion that if anyone was to whisper in her ear that Wood’s regiment should be advanced from Light Infantry to Rifles, he was at least as well placed as anyone to do so.
And so what, in the end, are we to conclude about the whole business of the fusion of the 26th and the 90th?
It is beyond doubt now that it was the 26th who were first selected to become the Scottish Rifles. This may have been based on their renowned competence as rifle shots or on their seniority, or both.
The 90th had no other obvious regiment to be linked to. They considered themselves not just the original Light Infantry but a cut above other regiments of the line as well. They were fiercely proud of their reputation for producing senior officers, and had the distinction of earning 10 VC’s[50]. They were the natural choice, as they saw it, to be the new Rifles.
Two prominent sons of the regiment were well placed to influence these decisions: one, a reformer, highly placed in the War Office and one, hugely ambitious, with the ear of the Queen. Not only that, they were intimates and had been part of the same elite circle for years.
The decision taken that the 26th and 90th be married it seems that the obvious course be that, apart from new dress and new drill, there should be as few changes as possible. The 1st Battalion would continue with their original name of Cameronians, proud to continue their long tradition as staunch Lowlanders. The 2nd Battalion would happily take that of the Scottish Rifles, to them a logical promotion for a regiment which long saw itself as a cut above the average. The fact that both halves, 26th and 90th, were both ‘delighted’ at their union reflects that they had almost certainly, either actually or tacitly, come to an accommodation from which both, as well as several more generations of the Regiment, were to benefit.
It goes a long way to explaining why it took until the 1920’s for the two halves of the Regiment – the Cameronians and the Scottish Rifles – to see that they had more in common than they had apart. For much of this period there had been more than mere rivalry between them. Volume III of the History says:
‘Prior to World War I, The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles) were not highly organised on a Regimental basis. The two Regular Battalions adopted a somewhat parochial attitude. Members of the 1st Battalion liked to be called ‘Cameronians’, those of the 2nd Battalion ‘Scottish Rifles’. There were minor differences in dress, and long serving personnel – both Officers and men – tended to remain with one Battalion throughout their careers. Transfer from the 1st to the 2nd Battalion, or vice versa, was a matter for regret, if not actual resentment.’[51]
World War I was the catalyst. It took only some strong and enlightened leadership then to finish the job[52].
From the 1920’s and for the next several generations, including of course World War II, the Regiment added to its reputation in many different theatres of war and other operations. The unique character brought about by the 1881 fusion and developed since then was the reason why, come further defence cuts, it was obvious that there could be no question of another amalgamation: disbandment, no matter how regrettable, was the only option. That is why the story ends in 1968.
All regiments consider themselves unique: some are just a little more unique than others.
Acknowledgements
I am indebted to many people. Most notably Her Majesty The Queen has graciously given permission for me to quote from and to reproduce papers in the Royal Archive. Mrs Julie Crocker, Assistant Archivist, could not have been more helpful.
I am particularly grateful to Lieutenant Colonel David Murray (late Queen’s Own Cameron Highlanders) on two counts. First, he has taken an extraordinarily close interest in The Cameronians since boyhood and has written knowledgeably about them on several occasions. He also read a draft of this article and was generous with his time and knowledge, preventing me from numerous small errors.
The staff of the National Archive, Kew, Surrey were helpful and encouraging and saved me an enormous amount of time.
I am much indebted to Colonel Hugh Mackay OBE and Major Michael Sixsmith who have both read early versions of the text and made knowledgeable and helpful suggestions for its improvement.
Whilst acknowledging all of the above with gratitude all of the opinions expressed are mine and mine alone, as are any errors or omissions.
I would be pleased to hear from any reader who can add to this story or shed light on any other aspects of what has become for me an absorbing story.
First published with the 2007 Covenanter. Revised 2020.
The copyright of all of the authors and publishers named is acknowledged. Every effort has been made to trace the copyright holders. Even where this has not been achieved their contribution is noted with gratitude.
* That equates to at least £1.2m in 2007 based on an index of retail prices.
[1] It was here in 1803 that Sir John Moore first started to train permanent light infantry regiments. He is described as ‘The Father of The Rifles’ – see www.army.mod.uk etc. It is one of these curious coincidences that Moore (born in Glasgow) was not only a friend of the 8th Duke of Hamilton (Earl of Angus) but was also for six years MP for Lanark. He was also a close friend of Thomas Graham, later Sir Thomas and later still Lord Lynedoch. Moore died at Corunna at Graham’s feet.
[3] The date is not recorded in the official history. There is no reason to suggest it would have been the same date on which the 26th paraded though it could easily have been.
[4] On formation they had originally worn white / grey trousers but whatever their original colour they were soon battle-worn and usually grey.
[5] There is some evidence that they were always trained as light infantry and so their re-naming was as much as anything a rationisation.
[6] They went on to earn nine more: see The Bravest of the Brave by Philip R Grant published with the 2005 Covenanter.
[8] Not to be confused with the Light Cavalry Brigade whose charge in 1854 during the Crimean War became a legend.
[9] Edward Cardwell (1813-1886) was Secretary of State for War from1868 to 1874.
[10] The 3rd Lanarkshire Volunteers have the unique record of establishing a football team (1872) which played in the Scottish first division and won the league in 1904 and the Scottish Cup in 1895 and 1905. The club was declared bankrupt in 1967 and disappeared.
[11] By Professor SHF Johnston (Gale & Polden 1957)
[14] Published in the Dispatch, the journal of the Scottish Military History Society. It is quoted here with the permission of the author.
[15] This is not strictly true. They had shared a depot at Hamilton since 1874.
[16] An extract from The Story of a Soldier’s Life, Constable, London 1903. The origin of the word Grabbie is not known. It may be derived from the name for the crew of an Eastern coasting vessel (a grab or ghurab): a lascar.
[18] Note: this should not be read in the same way as the word ‘territorial’ as used at the time of the formation of the Territorial Army in 1908 and up to the present time.
[20] Note: they are in this order and not in the order mentioned above by Murray.
[21] Here is not the place to explore why Ireland was entitled to Royal Rifles while Scotland was not.
[22] One might say ‘one of his ablest commanders’. Either way, he was at one time nominated to succeed the Iron Duke had he fallen. See Philip Grant’s A Peer Among Princes, The Life of Thomas Graham, Victor of Barrosa, Hero of the Peninsular War, published by Pen and Sword, 2019.
[23] These are held in the Round Tower at Windsor Castle.
[24] Chairman of the War Office committee which took its name from him.
[30] He also received honorary degrees from both Oxford and Cambridge Universities and was granted the Freedom of the City of London. The scale of this adulation is almost incomprehensible today. Even in Victorian times it was extraordinary.
[31] From Midshipman to Field Marshal (Methuen & Co, London 1906)
[32] This was Major Montresor Rogers VC who later succeeded Wood in command of the 90th and was their last Commanding Officer, and the first of the new 2nd Battalion.
[33] Although the award was not instituted until 1856, earlier outstanding deeds from the Russian and Crimean War were considered as qualifying.
[34] The practice of purchasing commissions was abolished this year and his must have been one of the last.
[35] He studied at the Middle Temple in 1870 and was called to the Bar there in 1874.
[36] It has been said that prior to the formation of the General Staff in 1906 much of its function was carried out by the QMG (Maj Gen EKG Sixsmith in his biography of Haig). Unlike in later years, it was not the case then that QMG’s function was one purely of managing materials and logistics.
[37] Between 1800 and 1904 (when it was abolished) this post was held by only ten officers (if you include Wood): three of them were from the 90th Perthshire Light Infantry. The others were General Sir Rowland Hill (1828-1842) and Field Marshal Sir Garnet Wolseley (1895-1900). Two of the others were royal dukes; another was the Duke of Wellington. Wood thought that the permanent post should be his but it was given instead to Field Marshal Lord Roberts. Wood’s profound deafness may possibly have been just one of the considerations.
[38] The Story of a Soldier’s Life. Constable, London 1903.
[39] It was in this year, 1871, that the C-in-C was persuaded to move his own office to the same building as that of his political master in Pall Mall. The site has now for long been occupied by the Royal Automobile Club.
[45] The Queen asked him to extend his stay but he was mightily discomfited as he had other social engagements to which he was already committed.
[46] Niece of George III and queen of George IV (though excluded from his coronation). She died in 1821 after a colourful (and scandalous) life.
[47] Napoléon IV, Prince Imperial (Full name: Louis Napoléon Eugène John Joseph, 16 March 1856 – 1 June 1879), Prince Imperial, Fils de France, was the only child of Emperor Napoleon III of France and his Empress consort Eugénie. Having been to the RMA Woolwich he begged to be allowed to go on service to South Africa. His family had sought exile in Britain after the disaster of the Franco-Prussian War.
[48] The Worshipful Company of Fishmongers, one of the ‘great twelve’ of the City livery companies, and one of the richest and grandest. Wood was by now a Liveryman of it.
[49] The Queen’s private house on the Isle of Wight.
[50] In his memoirs Wolseley wrote (of the siege of Lucknow): ‘I have seen many a reckless deed done in action, but I never knew a more dare-devil exhibition of pluck than this. In any other regiment this young ensign would have had the Victoria Cross, but to ask for that decoration was not the custom in the 90th Light Infantry’. Had it been, heaven knows how many they might have won!
[52] A notable exception which helped to break the mould was the appointment in 1923 of Lt Col ‘Uncle’ Ferrers and Capt Dickie O’Connor (later Gen Sir Richard) as CO and Adjutant respectively of the 1st Battalion, both having served previously only with the 2nd. (See The Generals by Philip R Grant, published with The Covenanter of 2005.)
If VE Day on 8 May 1945 was hugely symbolic to all battalions of The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles), then VJ Day – Victory over Japan – on 15 August, was even more important for the 1st Battalion. They were serving in India at the outbreak of the war in 1939 and were to remain in that theatre for the whole of the war, seeing some of the heaviest fighting, bearing some of the heaviest casualties, and earning an enduring name for fortitude in the most desperate conditions. Writing to the Commanding Officer the legendary General Sir William (Bill) Slim (later Field Marshal the Viscount Slim of Burma KG) their commander, said:
‘The retreat from Burma in 1942 was as severe an ordeal as any army could be called upon to endure but the British and Indian units of the Burma Corps, fighting, falling back, and turning to fight again and again, lived up to the great traditions of their services. Unsurpassed among them in stubborn courage and in that unquenchable spirit, which lifts men above fatigue and disaster and is the essence of a Regiment, was the 1st Battalion The Cameronians.
‘Battered, exhausted, hungry, reduced by casualties to a fraction of their strength, they never lost their fighting spirit or their indomitable cheerfulness. Whether they were six hundred or one hundred, they were always the 1st Battalion The Cameronians’.
The 1st Battalion had been sent to India in 1933, first to Lucknow in Uttar Pradesh, then to Landi Kotal on the Kyber Pass, and then (from 1936) to Barrackpore in Bengal, near Calcutta, and lastly to Secunderabad (in the south). They were there in December 1941 when the war with Japan began following unprovoked attacks on Malaya, Singapore and Hong Kong. Towards the end of 1942, after intensive training, the Cameronians were ordered to return to the Northwest Frontier, this time to Quetta, but this was soon rescinded and they embarked instead from Madras bound for Rangoon, the capital of Burma.
1st Cameronians ‘Warrant Officers and Sergeants Mess’ Secunderabad, 1941. Lt-Col W. B. Thomas seated centre, front row.
The Japanese were rampant and the retreat back into India by the British and Indian troops was hard-fought in terrible conditions. Having arrived at full strength, by the time 1st Cameronians marched out of Burma in May 1942 they were reduced to fourteen officer and 120 Other Ranks.
In 1943 it was decided that, with their limited resources, rather than wage full-frontal conflict, the Burma Army would carry out operations behind the Japanese lines. Their object was, by disruptive action, to dislocate the Japanese communications, destroy material, kill as many Japanese as possible and adversely affect his morale. The tactics were to be those of highly organised guerrillas. If the object was to adversely affect the morale of the Japanese it had the opposite effect on the British and Indian troops. Founded by their legendary commander, Major General Orde Wingate, they were officially known as the Long Range Penetration Groups but soon took the name of Chindits, the anglicised name of their symbol: the mythical beasts which stood guard on Buddhist temples.
The Cameronians (like other battalions) were formed into two columns, the 26th commanded by the battalion second in command and the 90th led by the commanding officer. (The numbering was taken from the original numbers of the old Cameronians, the 26th of Foot, and the Perthshire Light Infantry, the old 90th, who were joined in 1881 to form the Cameronians (Scottish Rifles)). The assumption must be that the Commanding Officer had spent much of his previous service in the 2nd Battalion and hence chose to number his column the 90th.
The very nature of this operation has made it extremely difficult to write a connected story and impossible to give details of every action. It was not a campaign of big battles, but one of many isolated skirmishes and ambushes in thick jungle country. Companies and even platoons were often split up into small widely separated groups for considerable periods. The War Diary could only be imperfectly kept and no written record was maintained of events other than moves by the Battalion as a whole. Such detailed records as have been written were compiled from memory after the event.
… The many acts of bravery and initiative performed by individuals and small groups of men remain unrecorded and are lost to history.
This, in itself, speaks volumes about the nature of the fighting. War Diaries are usually the first draft of history. The Regimental History goes on:
Only the very toughest and best trained troops were to be employed and all units were to be rigidly combed to eliminate the unfit. Supply was to be from the air, either landed on strips or dropped [by parachute]. It was proposed to seize and to develop air strips on which men, horses and mules and a few light guns could be flown in. The troops were to be as lightly equipped as possible although it was found impracticable to reduce the average load to below about 65 pounds [about 30 kilos].
In addition, of course, a man would have his own personal weapon.
The force comprised three brigades. 1st Cameronians were in 111 Brigade with another British battalion and two Ghurkha battalions. Each column comprised 400 men split into eight platoons. Each column had its own medical officer, chaplain and an RAF officer to coordinate the air supply. Heavy supplies – mortars, ammunition etc – were carried on mules, as were the wounded.
The Brigade was warned that it would be required to cross the River Chindwin and advance back into Burma in early February 1944. On arrival at Silchar it marched the 100 miles across the Naga Hills to its camping area on the Imphal-Tiddim road. They landed in Burma on the night of 10/11 March on a hastily prepared strip sixty miles east of Mawlu. Its orders were to concentrate at Dayu, a march of another 100 miles.
The monsoon broke earlier than usual at the beginning of May and from then on the usual daily rainfall was about four inches a day. The effect was that the ground was thoroughly sodden, streams were in spate, and leeches, mosquitoes and other tormenting insects were abundant everywhere, day and night.
The general hardships of the campaign, combined with the monsoon weather, resulted in a sharp rise in the sick rate, jaundice, malaria and dysentery being the main causes. The average platoon was [eventually] reduced to twenty-five instead of forty-five, and this made it very difficult to find sufficient men for patrols, ambushes, picking up supplies and defensive duties.
…The mud on the hills was indescribable, many of the slopes very steep and the jungle in places almost impenetrable. Moreover the privations of the first three months had left the survivors of the battalion in poor physical condition. Most had lost weight, many were extremely emaciated, and the rough going proved so hard on the feet [which were never dry] that there were very few who were not lame in a few days. Several of the pack animals became unfit for work and had to be destroyed.
… On 1 July [1944] the brigade was warned to advance, with the Cameronians to carry out the initial attack on some high ground held by the enemy in strength.
On receipt of this news the Commanding Officer found himself faced with a very difficult situation. There is a limit to the endurance of even the best troops and in a campaign of this type, in monsoon weather, the pace of physical deterioration is accelerated. Although the spirit may be willing, and troops fit for a defensive role, they may be incapable of further mobile offensive operations. When this time comes it is the duty of their Commander to represent the state of affairs to his superior and, in the judgement of Lieutenant Colonel Henning, the Cameronians had reached that stage. Casualties and sickness had reduced the battalion strength to that of a cadre: there were insufficient trained men to man the supporting weapons [mortars and machine guns] and all ranks were suffering from exhaustion and debility.
It was with great reluctance that the CO reported on 2 July that, in his view, the battalion was unfit for offensive operations. This opinion was accepted by the Brigade Commander.
… On 15 December 1945 members of the 1st Cameronians participated in a unique ceremony when Lieutenant General Senechi Tazachi, commander of the Singapore defences, and other Japanese Generals, Staff Officers and Administrators formally handed over their swords to Lieutenant Colonel Thomas CBE DSO [who had commanded the battalion during the first Burma campaign in 1942 and who returned to command it again]. The Japanese officer values his sword more than his life and many of these weapons had been in the possession of the same military families for generations. To have had to surrender them to their enemies must have been a humiliation, which in the days of their victories in 1942 no Japanese officer could have thought possible.
It was a singular mark of respect for the Battalion that they were chosen for this honour.
Composite image showing Lt-Col W. B. Thomas CBE DSO taking the surrender of a senior Japanese officer, Kluang, December 1945
The sword of Lieutenant General Senechi Tazachi features in the Cameronians (Scottish Rifles) displays at Low Parks Museum, Hamilton.
The Fourteenth Army, led by Slim, became known as The Forgotten Army. We must never forget them, especially on the 75th anniversary of their war. The Commonwealth war memorial at Kohima, the turning point of the Japanese offensive into India in 1944, bears the famous epitaph:
When you go home, tell them of us and say,
For your tomorrow, we gave our today.
[i] The History of The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles), Volume III (1933-1946) by Brigadier CN Barclay CBE DSO, Sifton Praed, London 1947.
Continuing with the theme of service in wartime ‘special forces’, this post will look at some of the Cameronians who served with the Parachute Regiment in the Second World War.
Prior to the Second World War, Britain had no established airborne forces. Use of parachute troops by the German army in the early stages of the War led to No. 2 Commando being turned over to parachute training in June 1940, for possible future operations in an airborne role.
As a completely new venture so far as British forces were concerned, there was much to be learned and this often by trial and error. The risks associated with such an undertaking were many, and could ultimately prove deadly:
“By September [1940] some 340-odd other ranks of No. 2 Commando had parachuted, but the wastage rate had been discouraging inasmuch as there had been two fatal accidents, twenty badly injured or declared medically unfit to carry on, whilst thirty of the original volunteers had refused to jump and had been RTU’d [returned to unit].”[i]
In February 1941 the paratroopers of No. 2 Commando had their first taste of action during Operation Colossus; an airborne demolition raid of an aqueduct in southern Italy. The unit was renamed as 1st Parachute Battalion in September 1941, additional battalions being raised from volunteers across the Army to form the Parachute Regiment.
John Dutton Frost, or Johnny as he was affectionately known, is perhaps one of the most famous airborne commanders of the Second World War. His actions as commander of British airborne forces at Arnhem during Operation Market Garden were immortalised on screen in the blockbuster movie A Bridge Too Far in which he is portrayed by Anthony Hopkins.
Second Lieutenant Frost joined 2nd Battalion The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles) in September 1932, while the Battalion were stationed at Glasgow’s Maryhill Barracks.[ii] Frost would serve with the 2nd Battalion in Palestine in 1936, before being seconded to the Iraq Levies in 1938. Frost was still serving in Iraq when the Second World War broke out; it wasn’t until January 1941 that he was able to re-join The Cameronians, being attached to the Infantry Training Centre (ITC) at Hamilton and given command of the Specialist Company.[iii] Captain Frost remained at the ITC until March 1941, when he was posted to the Regiment’s 10th Battalion, then employed on Home Defence duties on the Suffolk coast under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel D. G. Moncrieff-Wright MC.
Frost put his name forward for parachute training when the call went out for volunteers to create the 2nd, 3rd and 4th Parachute Battalion. It was not without serious misgivings that Frost volunteered, being torn over his loyalty to the Regiment, the Battalion and to Colonel Moncrieff-Wright, whom he greatly respected.[iv]
Initially posted as adjutant of the newly formed 2nd Parachute Battalion, Major Frost would go on to command the Battalion’s first combat action – Operation Biting, also known as the Bruneval Raid. The target for Operation Biting was the German radar installation near the coastal village of Bruneval, France. In order that Britain could hope to counter-act the effects of this new technology, a sample of the equipment was required for study and analysis. ‘C’ Company of 2nd Parachute Battalion would conduct the raid; dealing with the German defenders and removing the necessary components from the radar station before being evacuated from the nearby beach by the Royal Navy. The operations success was a huge morale boost for Britain, and helped cement the Parachute Regiment’s reputation as an elite fighting force. The raid also put Frost firmly in the lime-light – reporting to Churchill and his Chiefs of Staff in person for an immediate debriefing on his return from France. Frost was awarded the Military Cross for his command of the operation; he collected his award from Buckingham Palace in the uniform of The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles).
Frost would ultimately go on to command 2nd Parachute Battalion, and lead the unit in its most famous action – possibly one of the most famous actions of the War – Operation Market Garden.
The 2nd Parachute Battalion were the only unit of allied airborne forces to reach the ultimate objective of the operation – the bridge over the Rhine at Arnhem. The paratroopers had expected to hold the bridge against relatively light German resistance for two days while allied reinforcements were brought up by road. Various delays and setbacks however saw Lieutenant-Colonel Frost and his men hold the bridge for nearly four days against repeated counter-attacks by the German 9th Panzer Division. In the face of mounting casualties against overwhelming odds and with no prospect of reinforcement or resupply the survivors of 2nd Parachute Battalion were forced to surrender. Frost, by then twice wounded, and the remnants of his unit would spend the rest of the war as Prisoners of War.[v]
Frost remained in the British Army after the war, ultimately reaching the rank of Major-General. Before his retirement from the Army in 1968, Major-General Frost had been General Officer Commanding 52nd (Lowland) Division District, and as such enjoyed close contact with his old regiment. Major-General Frost was a frequent attendee of regimental dinners and commemoration services. He was also a regular contributor to The Covenanter and wrote several fascinating articles about service life.
In addition to his many military honours (he was made a Companion of the Order of the Bath, awarded the Distinguished Service Order and Bar, and the Military Cross) Frost also had the distinction of having the bridge over the Rhine at Arnhem renamed in his honour as John Frostbrug, or John Frost Bridge, in 1978.
Frost was just one of many senior, ex-regimental officers to attend the disbandment ceremony of the 1st Battalion The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles) at Douglas on 14 May 1968. He would go on to record his thoughts on the disbandment in his autobiography:
“When one joins a regiment, one thinks that it is forever. It seems to be such a highly durable thing – the territorial background, the customs and traditions, the property, the uniforms, the music and the families, and, last but not least, the battle honours and the memorials, including the colours which may be laid up. It comes as a very savage shock to learn that a regiment will be no more.”[vi]
Hugh McIntyre
Major John Frost was not the only Cameronian to air-drop into France in February 1942 as part of Operation Biting. Hugh Duncan McDonald McIntyre was a young soldier from the 9th Battalion The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles) who had also volunteered for parachute training and ultimately found himself in the 2nd Parachute Battalion. Hugh was one of a number of parachute volunteers from Scottish regiments; these men being formed into a ‘Jock’ Company of 2nd Parachute Battalion.
Hugh wrote to his brother, Geordie, on 21 February 1942, in which he let slip that he would soon be going on a raid and begging him to secrecy:
“I am going to tell you something Geordie, I am going on a raid this week and don’t tell anybody, not even mother or father nor your best friend and I shouldn’t be writing this, it’s a great secret. And I’ll be home next Saturday on leave and I will send you a telegram whenever I arrive back so you’ll know everything will be OK. Well Geordie, don’t say a word to anyone or I’ll get the shits for telling. Well Geordie I haven’t much more to say at present so Cheery O. And keep dumb, the walls have ears and it’s true.
The McIntyre family would never receive the telegram from Hugh, telling them ‘everything is OK.’ Instead they would receive the news the families of every service-person must fear most; that their loved one had been killed in action. Hugh was one of two men from 2nd Parachute Battalion killed during Operation Biting. The ‘hit and run’ style nature of the operation meant that the bodies of the two men killed had to be left behind.
News of the raids success was quickly released to the press and splashed across newspapers the length and breadth of the UK and beyond. As Frost would later explain:
“The Bruneval raid [Operation Biting] came at a time when our country’s fortunes were at a low ebb. Singapore had recently fallen and the German battleships had escaped up the Channel from Brest in the very teeth of everything that could be brought against them. Many people were disgruntled after a long catalogue of failures, and the success of our venture, although it was a mere flea-bite, did have the effect of making people feel that we could succeed after all.”[vii]
Hugh Duncan McDonald McInytre is buried in St. Marie Cemetery, Le Havre, France. Buried alongside him is Allan Scott of the Berkshire Regiment; 2nd Parachute Battalion’s other casualty from Operation Biting.
The 12th Battalion’s Parachuting Platoon
12th Cameronians was perhaps one of the finest wartime Battalions never to see combat service as a unit. Raised shortly after the outbreak of War, 12th Cameronians spent many months in a Home Defence role in the north of Scotland, before a fifteen-month spell as a garrison unit on the Faroe Islands. Well trained and well led, it was unfortunate that the 12th Battalion, on its return to the UK in late 1943, was to be disbanded and its officers and men transferred to units already on field service or preparing for the invasion of Normandy. Large numbers of men from 12th Cameronians would soon see service in North Africa and Italy with the Royal Fusiliers and the Essex Regiment.
Five officers and 40 men from 12th Cameronians volunteered for parachute training and were formed into a ‘Jock’ platoon of the 7th (Light Infantry) Parachute Battalion. As part of 6th Airborne Division, 7th Parachute Battalion would land in Normandy on the morning of 6th June 1944; their objective to help secure and defend the bridge over the Caen canal near Bénouville – later known as Pegasus Bridge. Major E. H. Steel-Baume, a regular officer of The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles) and early parachute volunteer, was Second-in-Command of 7th Parachute Battalion during the D-Day drop. Several men from 12th Cameronians were killed or wounded during airborne operations in Normandy, including C.Q.M.S Stanley Savill, a pre-war regular who had served with 1st Cameronians in India, and Lance Corporals George Hand and Robert Twist.
7th Parachute Battalion would see further action in the Ardennes, and in the crossing of the Rhine in the final stages of the War.
Writing in January 1945, Major Ramsay Tullis, one of 12th Cameronians’ officers who went to 7th Parachute Battalion records:
“It is sad to record that two officers, Captain Fotheringham[viii] and Lieutenant Nelson[ix] and eleven O.R.’s [Other Ranks] remain with the battalion out of the original platoon, but, on the other hand, it is most gratifying that this small band of Cameronians should have acquitted themselves in a way of which the regiment may be proud.”[x]
[i] Dunning, James It Had to be Tough: The origins and training of the Commandos in World War II, Frontline Books, London, 2012, p179
[ii] Frost, John Dutton Nearly There: The Memoirs of John Frost of Arnhem Bridge, Leo Cooper, London, 1991, p16
[iii]Those Were the Days! By Koi-Hai (Major R. G. Hogg) published in ‘The Covenanter’, Winter Number 1971, p82
[iv] Major-General Frost would write a heart-felt tribute to his old Commanding Officer in The Covenanter, when the latter’s death was announced in the 1983 issue, in which he said “Though he [Moncrieff-Wright] would never claim to have a place among the very distinguished officers the regiment has produced, I would place him there.” The feeling was mutual; Colonel Moncrieff-Wright had written in his own copy of A Drop Too Many “He [Frost] was in my Battalion and I liked him – he was an excellent officer and I knew he would do well.”
[v] For Frost’s full account of the Operation, and indeed his wartime military service, see A Drop Too Many, Cassell, London, 1980
This new post about Cameronians who served with Special Forces is of great interest. The piece about No 9 Commando is of special interest and Ferrey’s service with them and all of the detail in his personal diaries makes fascinating reading.
Delving on line for a bit more about 9 Commando I found this on the website of the Imperial War Museum: The unit did not wear a cap badge as such but while serving in 2nd Special Service Battalion they wore a black hackle in a khaki Balmoral hat. When the Special Service Battalions were re-organized in March 1941, the unit reverted to its 9 Commando title, retaining the Balmoral and black hackle. The hackle was transferred to the green beret when the latter was adopted in 1942. And The first version of the shoulder title is 9 COMMANDO in white on black, changed in late 1942 to No 9 COMMANDO, still in white on black. A green on black No 9 COMMANDO was subsequently worn for a short time before adopting the standard red on black in early 1943.
There is no doubt in my mind that a Cameronian, perhaps more than one, either with No 9 or on the staff, had a hand in this. The Balmoral bonnet with black hackle was the officers’ day-to-day dress with battle dress (or later with combat kit) for many years and until the 1st Battalion was disbanded.