Fierce, Fastidious, Efficient “Little Old Plumes” of Ypres

Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 1046, 9 August 1930, Page 18

Fierce, Fastidious, Efficient “Little Old Plumes” of Ypres

UD-CAKED Tommies in the fighting lines of Prance looked at the spick-and-span little commander of their particular unit, grinned, and

affectionately dubbed him “Old Plumes.” That was in the days when the British Second Army was holding tho line at "Wipers” against the battering ram of the German Army in tho early days of the Great War. “Old Plumes” is nearing the three-quarters of a century mark now, and is one of the most remarkable personalities in the British Army. Field-Marshal Lord Plumer is his official title, and he is now enjoying a little reprieve after an active army life of over half a century. Born in Torquay, England, as Herbert Charles Onslow, he entered the York and Lancaster Regiment at the age of 15, and rose to the highest military honours in the gift of the British Crown. Lord Plumer, who was created a baron for his military services, served in the Sudan and in South Africa, and from 1915 to 1917 he commanded an army corps in France. At the end ot that time he was transferred to the Italian front, and was there named to command the British expeditionary force which joined the Italians in their dramatic defence of -the hilly frontier against the Austrian forces. At the end ot the war his services were again in demand for administrative work, and he was appointed Governor and officer-in-command at Malta

from 1919 to 1924. He went on then to an even more picturesque administrative post, as High Commissioner tor Palestine.

This fierce and efficient little fighting man is known as well tor his dapper ways as for his heroism and adventures. There is no man in the British Army who is more persistently immaculate than Lord Plumer. Throughout the war his Sam Brown vied with his monocle for pinpoints of polished light. Trim, brushed, pressed, and polished, (he efficient little soldier was the delight of his fighting men wherever he appeared. When Lord Plumer posed for Sir William Orpen, the famous portrait painter, the old soldier’s batman was there at the sittings to look his master over critically inch by inch to see that not a crease or a button varied by a hair's breadth from its proper place. When Lord Plumer arrived on the Italian front, the spirit of the Italian Army was near to the breaking-point and there was some talk of a strategic retreat. Lord Plumer was incensed. It is one of his military peculiarities that he never swears, so he had to indicate his wrath without the help of good old English oaths, time-honoured In such situations. However, without the help of invectives, this polished little soldier managed to convey to the Italian commander that, whatever they choose to do, he for one intended to stay where he was with his divisions, and “give the Austrians socks it they try to cross the river.”