The Soul of a Regiment

 

cover art by David Robinson

I've been a big fan of Talbot Mundy all my life, so when a friend of mine recommended his 1912 story "The Soul of a Regiment" AND mentioned that it had been voted by the readers of Adventure as the best story ever appearing in that superb magazine, I was embarrassed to discover this gap in my reading history. (It appeared, by the way, in the February 1912 issue.)

In the 1880s, a new native regiment--the First Egyptian Foot--is formed. An experienced sargeant named Billy Grogram is brought in to train them.

This isn't an easy job, because they are an undisciplined mob, Grogram has to learn their language WHILE trying to train them, and the officers commanding the regiment could care less about it.

But Grogram is a pro. Gradually, he molds them into a coherant military unit. He has trouble at first getting them to march in step, but spends some of his own money for some fifes and a drum. He then teaches a make-shift band the only two songs he knows well enough to whistle--"God Save the Queen" and "The Campbells are Coming."

Eventually, Grogram senses that a soul is forming in the regiment:

And Billy Grogram, who above all was a man of clean ideals, began to feel content. He still described them in his letters home as "blooming mummies made of Nile mud, roasted black for their sins, and good for nothing but the ash-heap." He still damned them on parade, whipped them when the Colonel wasn't looking, and worked at them until he was much too tired to sleep; but he began to love them. And to a big, black, grinning man of them, they loved him. To encourage that wondrous band of his, he set them to playing their two tunes on guest nights outside the officers' mess; and the officers endured it until the Colonel returned from furlough. He sent for Grogram and offered to pay him back all he had spent on instruments, provided the band should keep away in future.

The regiment's soul, like the souls of all regiments, is symbolized by its colors. So when General Gordon marches to Khartoum, the First Egyptian Foot marches with him with pride, holding their flag high while the band plays its barely recognizable versions of its two-song repertoire.

Well, Gordon and his men are all killed at Khartoum. It's said the Billy Grogram went down fighting with his regiment. Then he's forgotten. 

But there are rumors--rumors of a small band of fifers and a drummer. Rumors of a dancing madman whom the natives leave alone because the insane are protected by God. 

And one day, perhaps those who have forgotten Billy Grogram and the First Egyptian Foot will be reminded that a regiment has a soul and the regiment's colors are the symbol of that undying soul.

Some modern critiques of the story point out imperialist and racists attitudes that run through the story. This is fair and proper. But, though the story is indeed a product of its time, its comments on courage, honor and discipline are still universal. Also, I'm not sure I completely buy into one particular criticism I ran across--the idea that the native troops only became effective when a white man was in command. But any group of men training to be soldiers--regardless of skin color--is going to start out as an undisciplined mob. And any such group of men is going to NEED an experienced soldier like Grogram (regardless of his skin color) to whip them into shape. That's not saying that the racial attitudes of 1912 don't seep into the story--I'm just not completely aboard with that one particular criticism.

"The Soul of a Regiment" really is a great story, dripping with bittersweet commentary on how quickly the world forgets those who died, but also dripping with reminders that courage and honor always lives on.

You can read it for yourself HERE.