The humane theory of the small calibre steel bullet is that when it strikes, unless it hits a vital spot, it does not mangle, but simply puts a man out of action, and that two more men take him to the rear, thus putting three out of action. But the theory does not work; for now that the magazine gun has multiplied every man in the trenches ten or twenty fold, no erect man of the attacking force can be spared to care for wounded comrades; consequently the man who falls is left where he is; no one can pay the slightest attention to him when every minute is infinitely precious and every stalking man is needed for the final instant. On the other hand, many of the wounds thus made are so slight that, if promptly cared for after the battle, the wounded men are able in a few days to be back with their regiments. The little bullet darts through the soft part of leg or arm or body like a sewing-machine needle, and if a vital spot is not struck, and if no bones are shattered, the flesh closes up with beautiful repair; and if antisepticized the recovery is surprisingly quick. The prompt reappearance of these many slightly wounded men on the firing line is equivalent to a perpetual reënforcement; thus the campaign is prolonged indefinitely. The humane sentiment is neutral as to the victory of either side in wars between civilized armies, and prays only that the slaughter and destruction may cease as soon as possible. If in the early weeks of the South African struggle each man hit had been wholly disabled, if not killed outright, it is inconceivable that the British people would have permitted the war to go on. If in the Philippines each native struck by an American bullet had been unable to recover and soon appear in arms again, that unhappy struggle would have ended long ago. Consequently, there is much to be considered before making a wholesale condemnation of the “dum-dum.” War cannot be anything but the most infernal thing on earth, and the sooner a campaign is over the better. We have to remind ourselves of the language of one of the generals in the Civil War to his officers: “Gentlemen, war means fight, and fight means kill; therefore the more you kill in any battle the sooner the misery of the war will end.” CHAPTER II. British and American Recruits [Illustration: Horse Guard on duty at headquarters, London.] The British soldier as he appears in the streets of London is the finest thing to look at in the military world. Although to the unused American eye most of these beings seem to be a little theatric in appearance, they are all that could be desired in uniform, build, and military bearing. In a nation of big men they have been chosen primarily for their height and their chest measurement, and they can scarcely be criticised for the somewhat exaggerated jauntiness which betrays a consciousness of their superior looks.