I do feel strongly that the Infantry arm (with a capital "I") does not receive either the respect or the treatment to which its importance and its exploits entitle it. This may possibly be understandable, though misguided, in peace; it is intolerable in war.
Let us be clear about three facts. First, all battles and all wars are won in the end by the infantryman. Secondly, the infantryman always bears the brunt. His casualties are heavier, he suffers greater extremes of discomfort and fatigue than the other arms. Thirdly, the art of the infantryman is less stereotyped and far harder to acquire in modern war than that of any other arm. The role of the average artilleryman, for instance, is largely routine; the setting of a fuse, the loading of a gun, even the laying of it are processes which, once learnt, are mechanical. The infantryman has to use initiative and intelligence in almost every step he moves, every action he takes on the battle-field. We ought therefore to put our men of best intelligence and endurance into the Infantry.
In all the long history of war on land the front-line fighting man, whose role is to close with the enemy and force him to flee, surrender, or be killed—the only method by which battles are ever won—has two categories only—those who fight mounted—once the Knights-at-arms, then the Cavalry, now the Royal Armoured Corps—and those who fight on their feet—the inevitable, enduring, despised, long-suffering Infantry (with a very capital I). So let us always write Infantry with a specially capital "I" and think of them with the deep admiration they deserve. And let us Infantrymen wear our battle-dress, like our rue, with a difference; and throw a chest in it, for we are the men who win battles and wars.