DO WE GLORIFY OUR FAILURES?

New Zealand Listener, Volume 3, Issue 55, 12 July 1940, Page 20

DO WE GLORIFY OUR FAILURES?

(Written for "The Listener" by

K. E.

GOULTER

tionary Force’s withdrawal from Flanders, I. met an American, and, like many of his countrymen, he had plenty to say. "You British are a-mighty queer lot;’ he announced. "Anyone would think you'd won’a victory over there T ® day after the British Expedi-

last week. You’re that pepped up. Come to think of it ‘though, you always do glorify your defeats. Old Grenville and the fifty-three, and all that sort of thing." . Do we give more prominence to "glorious defeat" than to legitimate victory? I went to history for the answer, and believe me, as our American friend would say, it was conclusive. Gallant Defeats and Retreats There have ‘been more poems, songs, and books written about British defeats, gallant defeats, it is true, but defeats just the same, than about our victorious campaigns. For example: for every Englishman who can tell of the extent and excellence of the Allied advance in 1918, and the breaking of the great military machine of Germany, there are ten who can describe, enthusiastically, the gallant retreat from Mons, which, when all’s said and done, was a real retreat-and a particularly bloody one at that. Then there was the Gallipoli campaign. The epics of V Beach, Suvla Bay, Anzac Cove, and Lone Pine Hill will never be forgotten as long as the English tongue is spoken. But it wasn’t a victory. Officially Gallipoli was a mistake and a failure; more poignantly a failure because all that reckless gallantry was in vain. Why did the exploits of the "boy ace," Albert Ball, during the last war, appeal to his fellow countrymen more than those of other airmen, whose scores of ’planes destroyed were greater? Because single-handed he attacked formations of German ’planes, often as many as twelve in number, To Captain Ball

the R.A.F. to-day owes its tradition of attack at all costs, and against all odds, Captain Scott’s Example Would Captain Scott be as well remembered and honoured to-day if his journey to the South Pole had been as safe, as lacking in incident, and as successful as Roald Amundsen’s? I believe not. It was Scott’s failure-his struggle against overwhelming odds, blizzard, hunger, cold, and his lonely death, which "stirred the heart of every Englishman," as he said it would. Cherry-Garrard in "The Worst Journey in the World," says of Scott's last expedition: "I see now plainly that we achieved a first-class tragedy, which as a tragedy will never be forgotten. . . ." Hitler Should Beware Perhaps this peculiarly British attitude toward failure is one of those psychological factors, overlooked by Hitler, which may very well lead to his downfall. Hitler pictured a rout to Dunkirk; he saw an orderly retreat. Instead of broken morale, he saw indomitable courage, and the evacuated troops welcomed home in a way that in Germany is reserved for victory only. He knew, he must know, that his own people, Goebbels-fed, couldn’t stand up-mor-ally, that is-to such a reverse. Reverses must be kept from them, casualty lists held back. If Hitler remembers his European history, he will feel alarm; for Napoleon, in whose footprints he hopes to tread, said of the British soldiers of another day: "Had I led an English army I should have conquered the universe, for I could have gone all over the world without demoralising my troops. . . I might have lost the battle of Waterloo without losing a vote in Parliament, or a soldier from my ranks. I should have won the game."