THE GRENADIER GUARDS ("The Old Eyes")

High in the estimation of every son and daughter of Britain stands that heroic band, the British Grenadiers. Their deeds have brought a fine thrill to every heart, and a stirring song to every voice; and, though there have been times when a pall of necessary silence, covering a "certain liveliness," has been imposed by the fog of a world-war, we have felt calmly assured that behind that fog our British Grenadiers were doing, or dying, in a way that must awaken the old thrill, and inspire a new song.

It has always been one of the greatest aids to success in battle to sum up the daring deeds of the past; the successes against fearful odds; the forlorn hopes bravely led; the breaches filled with our British dead; the stubborn resistance, and sometimes complete annihilation of one part for the success of the whole; the lofty sacrifice of the foremost, so that the hindmost may turn the tide of battle; and the heroic dash to certain death, which has always given birth to victory. And this aid of tradition has been accorded by their own deeds, and by the nation's appreciation, to none more strongly than to the British Grenadiers.

Yet it must be remembered that the Grenadier Guards, though they share the honour and glory of all Grenadiers, were never really Grenadiers proper. They won the name at Waterloo, where they vanquished the French Grenadiers. Sharing the name, they share and perpetuate the memory of the song, which in the first place referred to the Grenadiers who threw the grenades "from the glacis." But, as a good old British song may gain in volume as it rolls down the years, there is no reason why the well-known air in question should not attach to the Grenadier Guards.

Well does the historian say that "their annals indeed may almost be said to be identical with those of the British Army, as in every campaign of importance—every campaign which has had a material bearing on the fortunes of the Commonwealth—their services have been called into requisition. They have shared in our greatest battles. Their serried ranks stood firm at Fontenoy; turned the tide of battle at Quatre Bras; withstood unshaken the assaults of Napoleon's brilliant chivalry at Waterloo, and ascended with stately movement the bristling heights of the Alma."

Mr. J. J. Hart, who was with the Grenadiers in the Boer War, gives a graphic description of the battle near Senekal:

"With the advent of quick-firing guns," says he, "the ancient magnificence of armies in battle array has disappeared for ever…. There is no shining armour; there are no waving plumes; and the blare of the trumpet is unheard. Watch those grey-clad figures as they silently scatter over the plain. They are the colour of the withered grass of the veldt. No two will walk together lest they should be a more conspicuous mark for those deadly guns. See them as they walk with bent heads. You might compare them to poachers or partridge-shooters travelling over a moor, only their advance is more cautious….

"It was noon, and my battalion had halted on the plain. Far away for miles on our right the battle was raging, and, we with our grand fighting history, were left to act the inglorious part of lying on the grass waiting to cut off a possible retreat of the enemy. (Col.) Bunker stamped and swore and chewed his moustache…. Confusion to the General who crushed the flower of the British infantry so; but it was orders, and soldiers must obey. The Boers, however, were more generous to us than the General, and, in the working out of a little plan of their own, they were destined to cover us with wounds if not with glory. While we were lying musing on our fate, and thinking if the news of our being left out of the action should ever reach London, what we might expect at the hands of our enemies the cabdrivers, a force of Boers, of whose presence on a hill about half a mile in front we were blissfully ignorant, were preparing to open fire on us. They began proceedings by killing Bunker's horse with a percussion shell, which dropped right under him, and blew the animal to bits. Our artillery soon limbered up and replied to the shot, keeping up a continuous fire for about an hour, when, as they were unable to silence the gun, we advanced to take it by assault. We moved towards the hill in short rushes, lying down every fifty yards to fire a volley. The Boer shells which exploded between our extended line did little damage, and it looked as if we were going to make an easy capture of the gun. If there were any rifles on the hill they were certainly very careful about reserving their fire. We had got within 500 yards of the base of the hill, and had risen to make another rush when the rattling noise of a thousand rifle bolts together came to our ears. The whole of the front rank went down at the first volley; evidently the marksmen on the hill had taken very careful aim; then there followed a veritable hailstorm of lead, in the face of which no man could advance and live. We remained lying down and firing in the same position for about five hours.

"The shadows of night were falling, and still the firing was kept up without intermission; when a new danger was observed to threaten us. A shell had ignited the long grass in our rear and a light breeze which was blowing soon turned the spark into a conflagration. The Boers, observing this, extended their flanks on our right and left, thus completely cutting off our retreat. Then followed a scene of tumult which is hard to describe. Wounded men who were unable to move … gazed with wild staring eyes at the flames, which, slowly but surely, crept towards them. Our left wing made one desperate rush to charge the Boers, but had to fall before the leaden hail. When the flames drew near many of our men made heroic efforts to remove our wounded through the blinding smoke and flame…. Others pulled their helmets over their faces and rushed through the fire. In all this confusion I noticed one man who showed rare presence of mind. He was badly wounded, and, being unable to get out of reach of the flames, he took some matches from his pocket and burnt the grass near him. He then crawled on to the black ground, and thus secured for himself a comparatively safe position when the fire approached him. The flames were now upon us, and fighting had ceased. Two men picked me up where I lay wounded, and, rushing with me through the flames, threw me down on the other side, and ran…. The fire burned itself out at the foot of the hill, and then all was darkness till the moon, shining out, showed us the blackened bodies of the dead, and men writhing in pain on the burned earth.

"Now the Boers came amongst us, and, passing from one wounded man to another, gave us water from their bottles. Then we heard a crackling of whips and a rumbling of wheels. The Boers left us, and we knew the ambulance wagons were coming."

THEIR COLOURS, BATTLE HONOURS, ETC.

The King's Colours.—1st Battn., Gules (crimson): in the centre the Imperial Crown; in base a grenade fired proper. 2nd Battn., Gules (crimson): in the centre the Royal Cypher reversed and interlaced or, ensigned with the Imperial Crown; in base a grenade fired proper, in the dexter canton the Union. 3rd Battn.: as for 2nd Battn., and for distinction, issuing from the Union in bend dexter, a pile wavy or.

Regimental Colours.—The Union: in the centre a company badge ensigned with the Imperial Crown; in base a grenade fired proper. The thirty company badges are borne in rotation, three at a time, one on the regimental colour of each of the Battns.

Battle Honours.—Blenheim, Ramillies, Oudenarde, Malplaquet, Dettingen, Lincelles, Corunna, Barrosa, Peninsula, Waterloo, Alma, Inkerman, Sevastopol, Egypt 1882, Tel-el-Kebir, Suakin 1885, Khartoum, S. Africa 1899-1902, Modder River.

Uniform.—Scarlet, blue facings.