GREAT BRITAIN: Ugly Duckling

Most newsworthy feature of Neville Chamberlain’s Cabinet reshuffle last May was the appointment of pudgy Leslie Hore-Belisha as Secretary of State for War. In Stanley Baldwin’s Government this shrewd little Jew, as Minister of Transport, had won unprecedented publicity by his road-safety campaign, his famed orange-topped Belisha Beacons.

The point of Hore-Belisha’s new appointment was obvious—his iob was to get much-needed recruits for the British Army. the ugly duckling of Britain’s fighting services. With the sort of interest shown in a popular cricketer, Britishers—from black-coated civil servants in Whitehall to roisterous cockneys on Hampstead Heath —waited last week for War Secretary Hore-Belisha to reveal his program.

A shortage of army recruits has long been a catch in Britain’s armament plans. Though the air force and navy are fully manned the army last week was 25,000 men shorthanded. Chief reason for this is on the lips of every Tommy—”We don’t get enough bleeding pay.” As Lieutenant Colonel Sir Arnold Wilson M. P. recently pointed out “army pay in every rank is lower than in the navy or in the air force.” The general theory is that a sailor deserves more because he is forced to leave his sweethearts for long periods, an air force man because he is constantly in danger. Coupled with this, sailors and air force men find it easier to make a hit with the girls. So new applicants for the army are not only few but mostly down-and-out, therefore undernourished. Three out of five are rejected as physically unfit.

Since 1934 the Government has struggled ingeniously to make soldiering attractive. In recruiting offices, handsome male mannequins were hired to parade in a range of colorful uniforms; recruits were given the opportunity of choosing a regiment by its regalia. Special blue “walking-out” uniforms were provided. Out-of-workers were warmly invited to spend a free holiday with the Army. Prospective Tommies were escorted through spick & span, comfortably-furnished barracks. A trial enlistment scheme whereby young men could join up for six months was inaugurated. Such chores as scrubbing and peeling potatoes were eliminated from regular military duties. Finally, haircuts and new equipment, formerly paid for by each soldier, were thrown in free.

It was not easy for Britons to see how War Secretary Hore-Belisha could devise still more startling stunts. His plan proved to be merely a scheme for persuading soldiers now completing their initial seven years’ service to sign up for another 14. The inducement: a life pension of 34 shillings ($8.50) a week. To 90,000 who have recently done their seven years and left the army, the War Secretary offered the same terms if they would return to the colors. The average Tommy could not see what the fuss was about. To him the solution was crystal-clear—more pay.