The experience of San Martin in Spain had taught him that success is not possible in a long war without a solid military organization. He had seen the Spanish armies, ever routed in spite of their heroism, when remoulded under English discipline triumph over the first soldiers of Europe. He knew that Spain, once free from war in the Peninsula, would send her best troops and her best generals to America. Coolly he studied the situation, and came to the conclusion that the war was but commencing, that the armies of the revolution had no consistence, that there was no plan of operations and no preparation for future emergencies. He said nothing of this publicly, but quietly set to work to found a new military school. Under his command the first squadron of the mounted grenadiers became the school of a generation of heroes. He did as Cromwell did in his day; he made one regiment the model for an army. Under strict discipline, which did not repress individual energy, he formed soldier and officer alike, one by one, instilling into them a passion for duty and that cool courage which is the secret of success.
His first work was to instruct the officers, who under his guidance became the monitors of the future school. To the companions of his voyage he added men who had already seen service in the war, preferring those who had risen from the ranks, but took none of higher rank than lieutenant. To them he added cadets, chosen from respectable families of the city of Buenos Ayres. He was their master both in tactics and in the use of arms, and taught them both to study and to manoeuvre with heads erect. Their nerves he tried by nocturnal surprises, those who failed being dismissed, as he wished "to have only lions in the regiment."
He also established a sort of vigilance committee among them, and in extreme cases gave permission to fight duels. On the first Sunday in each month he presided at a meeting of this committee. In an adjoining room each officer wrote on a blank ticket an account of any misconduct he
