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 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
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 AT THE WAR 
 
 BY 
 
 LORD NORTHCLIFFE 
 
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 PUBLISHED FOR THE JOINT WAR COMMITTEE 
 
 OF THE BRITISH RED CROSS SOCIETY, AND 
 
 THE ORDER OF ST. JOHN OF JERUSALEM IN 
 
 ENGLAND, BY 
 
 HODDER AND STOUGHTON 
 
 LONDON NEW YORK TORONTO 
 
 MCMXVI
 
 TO MY MOTHER
 
 FOR THE RED CROSS 
 
 THIS assembly of some of my letters, telegrams, 
 cablegrams, and other writings about the war, and 
 kindred matters, has been made at the request of 
 the British Red Cross Society and Order of St. John. 
 
 The generosity of the publishers will permit any 
 profit that may arise to pass to the Joint Committee 
 of those Societies. 
 
 NORTHCLIFFE.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 OUR SOLDIER BOYS ARRIVE 3 
 
 THE ARMY BEHIND THE ARMY 11 
 
 THE WOMEN ARE SPLENDID 29 
 
 A CIVILIAN'S IMPRESSIONS OF THE WAR 35 
 
 WARPLANES 51 
 
 SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 69 
 
 JOFFRE 67 
 
 OADORNA 73 
 
 UNDER THE SLT STARS 79 
 
 THE WAE DOCTORS 89 
 
 RED CROSS VISITS : 
 
 (l) THE PEOPLE AT 83 PALL MALL AND ELSEWHERfc . . . 107 
 
 (n) HOW SOME OF THE MONEY IS SPENT 123 
 
 (in) THE SEARCH FOB THE MISSING 133 
 
 LIFE IN REIMS . . . 153 
 
 BEFORE VERDUN 161 
 
 THE NEW LITTLE BELGIAN ARMY 177 
 
 WITH THE ITALIANS 189 
 
 (l) IN OORIZIA . . . . , 189 
 
 (n) HOW GORIZIA WAS TAKEN 193 
 
 (m) THE CARSO BATTLES 197 
 
 (IV) ON THE CADORE FRONT 205 
 
 (V) FIGHTING IN THE DOLOMITES 211 
 
 (VI) THE GATE TO ITALY BARRED 217
 
 viii CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 NEUTRAL GLIMPSES: 
 
 (l) THE GERMANS IN SWITZERLAND 225 
 
 (ll) OUR RELEASED PRISONERS 235 
 
 (in) FOOD FOR OUR MEN IN GERMANY 243 
 
 (IV) GENEVA 249 
 
 (V) THE GERMANS IN SPAIN 255 
 
 (VI) A SPANISH TOUR 269 
 
 INDEX 279
 
 OUR SOLDIER BOYS ARRIVE
 
 OUR SOLDIER BOYS ARRIVE 
 
 SOMEWHERE IN FRANCE 
 
 I HAVE not seen any description of the arrival of 
 our dear soldier boys, many of whom have never 
 before left England, in the country which is the 
 destination, for good or for ill, of the majority of 
 those who leave England on the Great Adventure. 
 Quite by chance I have on two occasions witnessed 
 the landing abroad of a great number of them. 
 
 At three o'clock one morning, in a certain French 
 town, I was awakened by the sound of an English 
 bugle call. Throwing open the window I looked out, 
 and there, in the glare of tall arc lights, had assembled, 
 as if by magic, a great company of English soldiers 
 who had just landed. I could hear the roll being 
 called. In a few minutes the transport in which 
 they had come had steamed away, and the thousand 
 or so young Britons had passed from the harbour 
 and were on their way to their fate. The great 
 lamps were extinguished, they were gone, and the 
 whole thing seemed like a dream. It was a scene 
 queer and mysterious, and was not witnessed by 
 any but a few dock workers and myself. 
 
 I had forgotten the incident until, the other day at 
 Boulogne, I saw, by day, the arrival of another trans- 
 port's load. I determined to watch our boys and 
 their demeanour on reaching a strange country 
 that was to be for them so full of romance and
 
 4 AT THE WAR 
 
 adventure. Bright, fresh lads, their English faces 
 looked so red beside those of our darker Allies. 
 
 So few hours had elapsed since they had left 
 England that many of them still wore the flowers 
 their sweethearts had given them on leaving. 
 They looked about earnestly and curiously ; their 
 officers, a little nervous I thought, were marshalling 
 them for the roll-call, somewhat anxious as to 
 what the busy townspeople, hurrying to their 
 midday dejeuner would think ; the French present 
 took very little notice, for they had witnessed 
 this scene every day for months. Women went 
 among the soldiers selling oranges and cigarettes, 
 and there was a little chaffing between the French 
 girls and the " Tommies," in which the girls did most 
 of the badinage. Soon they passed, as I had seen 
 the others do at night, on their way to a rest camp, 
 whence they will spread all over Northern France, 
 so that eventually one finds them in the most unex- 
 pected places. 
 
 I have seen them working great barges, running 
 trains and steamboats, digging trenches, building 
 bridges, making roads and railways, erecting huts, and 
 always neat and spruce. 
 
 The faces of our soldiers, unlike those of the 
 Germans, are full of individuality. Our boys have 
 their own ways of doing things, and while they 
 are the finest troops in the world for trench fighting, 
 being immovable (and ferocious !) as German prisoners 
 have told me on more than one occasion, they have 
 their own peculiarities in regard to their food and 
 their living. 
 
 One of the good qualities that particularly dis- 
 tinguish the British soldier from any other is his 
 insistence upon smartness. Our " Tommy " has his 
 own walk and his own way of wearing his clothes,
 
 TOMMY'S MENU 5 
 
 so distinctive that one can distinguish him on the 
 skyline in a country where English, French, and 
 
 Belgians are working together. 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 One day last week I had the interesting experience 
 of seeing the depots of part of the English Army, 
 part of the French Army, and part of the Belgian 
 Army. The contrast was interesting. " Tommy " is 
 certainly an epicure, and he is right, for nothing we 
 can give and nothing we can do can be too 
 good for our boys. For his enjoyment we export 
 supplies which, stacked in boxes, form veritable 
 walls of dates, jam, pickled walnuts, chutney, 
 and pepper, not to mention bacon, bully beef, butter, 
 and cheese. The French soldier is a better 
 cook than " Tommy," and he manages with 
 much less meat, but has a great deal more bread, 
 much more soup (which he makes from bread, leeks, 
 and meat), an occasional chicken, when he can 
 get it, coffee, and a little red wine. 
 
 The Italian has a most varied diet, as I have 
 described in a later telegram in this collection. 
 
 The Belgian soldier insists on immense quantities 
 of potatoes, with soup, cheese, bread and butter, 
 and meat. 
 
 Our Army is perfectly fed according to the demands 
 of its own men. 
 
 There never has been an army so well cared for. 
 Take the Y.M.C.A. huts alone. They are to be 
 found everywhere in the most unlikely places, and 
 are not, as some people seem to think, centres for 
 the dissemination of cant and tracts, but bright and 
 attractive clubs, where, at the minimum price, 
 soldiers can, if they wish, add to the good things 
 provided by grateful John Bull. Not only are 
 there Y.M.C.A. huts, but there are also those of the 
 Church and Salvation Armies, and private efforts 
 in addition.
 
 6 AT THE WAR 
 
 As for hospital care, the Royal Army Medical 
 Corps, the British^Red Cross Society, the Canadian 
 and Australian Red Cross, and the Order of 
 St. John of Jerusalem, with independent bodies, 
 such as the Society of Friends and the American 
 Ambulance, have produced organizations at whose 
 perfection I stand and marvel. 
 
 Much of it has been made possible by public 
 generosity at home, much of it by Government 
 foresight and wisdom, much of it by great self-sacrifice 
 on the part of workers. I have seen him who is 
 said to be the world's greatest surgeon acting as his 
 own dresser in a hospital for privates. I saw the 
 King's own doctor the other day helping in one 
 of the great hospitals at Wimereux. One often 
 hears it said that had the military part of the war 
 been conducted with the vigour and prevision that 
 have prevailed in the Army Service Corps, the 
 R.A.M.C., and the British Red Cross Society ; had 
 the munitions, big howitzers, and machine guns 
 been thought of as quickly as the hospitals and 
 the transport, the Germans would have long ago 
 been driven over the Rhine. 
 
 One sometimes feels that while everything has 
 been done for " Tommy," not enough has been done 
 for the young officers. Their case will require more 
 attention before the war is over. Their pay and 
 allowances are grossly insufficient. Going to and 
 from the front they often have to stop at expensive 
 hotels, and in war time everything, of course, is 
 necessarily high in price. I was delighted to come across 
 something new at Boulogne in the shape of an 
 officers' club founded by Lady Dudley, which 
 is exactly what is required for the happiness 
 and comfort of officers, to whom, after the 
 mud, toil, and danger of the trenches, the place must
 
 OFFICERS' CLUBS 7 
 
 seem a veritable haven. The idea should be extended 
 to other bases and centres. 1 The officer has no Y.M.C. A. 
 hut, and is often lonely in his comings and goings 
 in a strange land. Lady Dudley's kindly thought 
 and industry in this matter and her provision of much 
 English comfort for the club remind me that a 
 great many of the enthusiastic ladies who volunteered 
 their help at the beginning of the war have found 
 the work harder than they thought, and in some 
 cases much too onerous for health. 
 
 Yet there are many British, Canadian, and Aus- 
 tralian women doing all sorts of voluntary work 
 behind the front which should, if only as an example, 
 be better known than it is. Does one ever think 
 of the fatigue of nurses, of the terrific strain many 
 of them endure at times when fighting is active ? 
 Many of these overworked ladies do not get the 
 rest that is needed. Lady Gifford manages the 
 beautiful home given by Princess Louise in the 
 woods of Hardelot, now yellow with wild daffodils. 
 She tells me that sometimes the sisters cannot get 
 the sound of the guns out of their ears for days, 
 and I can imagine that Hardelot, with its beautiful 
 sands and its golf course, is a paradise after life in 
 a hospital near the fighting line. On a large part 
 of the coast of France from north of Wimereux to 
 Etaples is a long series of palatial hospitals for our 
 soldier boys. I suppose the most northerly on 
 that section is the Australian Hospital, of which 
 the matron and nurses are all from the southern 
 continent. It stands out on the breezy cliffs. 
 Near by is Lady Hadfield's hospital and a 
 vast assemblage of perfectly managed R.A.M.C. 
 hospitals, including even a hospital for the nurses 
 themselves, for they, poor things, often need one. 
 
 I have had little talks with some hundreds of 
 our soldiers during the war, and in regard to care 
 1 This has been done.
 
 8 AT THE WAR 
 
 and comfort and nursing, diet and clothes, the 
 provision for reading and smoking, I have never 
 heard a single complaint. The health of all is 
 wonderful. The meeting of Scotsman and Southerner, 
 Londoner and Provincial, Irishman and Englishman 
 is bringing about an interchange of thought that 
 will materially alter British politics as soon as the 
 boys return home. There are the Canadians, too, 
 with their independent thinking and initiative. 
 Now that the Australians and New Zealanders 
 have come there will be a veritable formation, 
 in France, of an indissoluble bond of Empire which, 
 I do not doubt, will have vast influence on the 
 future of the world's history.
 
 THE ARMY BEHIND THE ARMY
 
 THE ARMY BEHIND THE ARMY 
 
 EFFICIENCY AND YOUTH 
 
 SOMEWHERE IN FRANCE 
 
 TAKE this powerful pair of field-glasses in your hand. 
 They were captured yesterday in a German dug-out 
 and bear the famous mark of Zeiss, of Jena. Adjust 
 them carefully and look well over to where dark 
 clouds of shells are bursting so rapidly that they form 
 what looks like a dense mass of London fog, with 
 continuous brief and vivid flashes of explosions. 
 That is Pozieres. That is how Fricourt looked and 
 how Longueval is looking on the day this is penned. 
 From behind where we sit ensconced in an old German 
 trench there come night and day the bang and the 
 far-travelling scream of British shells. It does not 
 seem possible that anyone can emerge alive from 
 those bombarded villages. 
 
 From north to south is an irregular chain of watch- 
 ful observation balloons. High and glittering in the 
 sunshine are planes, directed as often as not by boys 
 who in happier times would be in the boats or the 
 playing fields. Their heroism during the last few 
 weeks has never been equalled, except in this war. 
 
 The battles of the Somme are not, of course, so 
 easily witnessed as those which can be seen from the 
 heights around Verdun, but they are a great deal more 
 visible and understandable than the depressing artil- 
 lery duels in the plains and swamps of Flanders. 
 
 B 2
 
 12 AT THE WAR 
 
 Neither photographs nor maps give much real im- 
 pression of the great panorama, which is, indeed, only 
 possible for an onlooker to understand when accom- 
 panied by one who has witnessed the steady conquest 
 of the German trenches from the beginning of the 
 movement which was made on July 1. What is 
 easy to realize, and so cheering to our soldiers, is 
 that we give the Germans full measure and more in 
 the matter of guns and shells. A couple of hours in 
 any place where the battles can be properly observed 
 is enough for the nerves of the average civilian, for to 
 see battles properly one must be well in reach of the 
 enemy, and so when we have had our fill we make our 
 way along a communication trench to where a small 
 and unobtrusive motor has been hidden. 
 
 Presently we come to the roads where one sees one 
 of the triumphs of the war, the transport which brings 
 the ammunition for the guns and the food for the 
 men, a transport which has had to meet all kinds of 
 unexpected difficulties. The last is water, for our 
 troops are approaching a part of France which is as 
 chalky and dry as our South Downs. 
 
 Some researches with a view to placing on record 
 the work of the British Red Cross Society and Order 
 of St. John in their relations to the wonderful Army 
 Medical Service in France have brought the writer 
 into touch with almost the most splendid achievement 
 of the war, the building up of the great organization 
 that lies between the Somme and the British Isles. 
 
 In common with other writers I have been able to 
 visit the various theatres of war from time to time, 
 and have not hesitated to criticize things that were 
 obviously wrong. 
 
 I shall here set down the miraculously changed 
 conditions, from the point of view of efficiency and 
 economy, in which we enter upon the third year 
 of war. 
 
 Communication being as urgent as transport, the
 
 OUR TELEPHONES 13 
 
 Royal Engineers have seen to it that the large area 
 of Northern and North- West France in which our 
 Armies are operating has been linked up by a tele- 
 phonic system unique. It is no mere collection of 
 temporary wires strung from tree to tree. The poles 
 and wires are in every way as good as those of the 
 Post Office at home. The installation might indeed 
 be thought to be extravagant, but cheap telephoning 
 is notoriously bad telephoning. A breakdown of 
 communications which might be caused by the fierce 
 wind and electric storms which have happened so 
 frequently in the war would spell a great inconvenience 
 or even worse. An indistinct telephone is useless. 
 And so, marching with the Army, and linking up a 
 thousand essential points, is a telephone service that 
 cannot be bettered. To-day it would be quite pos- 
 sible for the Commander-in-Chief, if he so desired, to 
 call up London from beyond Fricourt, for our wires 
 are already in places where we saw them burying 
 the blackened corpses of dead Germans, and where 
 the sound of great guns makes it sometimes necessary 
 to shout in order to make ourselves heard in a conver- 
 sation. 
 
 Every officer or head of department of importance 
 in the British zone has a telephone at his hand, so 
 that he may give and receive orders, not absolutely 
 secret, by the quickest and most popular means of 
 communication. Where necessary, the English tele- 
 phones are linked up with the trunk lines of the 
 French Government, for which purposes interpreters 
 are placed in the exchanges. The speed of communi- 
 cation is remarkable. It varies, of course, with the 
 amount of business, but I have seen a man call up 
 Paris, London, and the seaport bases in France all 
 within an hour. Supplementing the telephonic sys- 
 tem is a telegraphic link, and there is also the wireless. 
 The Army Signal Corps is to be congratulated on a 
 fine achievement. Over and above these there are
 
 i 4 AT THE WAR 
 
 the motor despatch riders, some of whose experiences 
 during the war have been as thrilling as those of our 
 air boys. The noisy nuisance of our peace time roads 
 at home has been a prime factor in the prompt waging 
 of war. Motor-cycles and portable telephones appear 
 in the most out-of-the-way spots. Far beyond Fri- 
 court I met these cyclists making their way in and 
 out and around the shell holes. 
 
 A few days later when, visiting one of the workshops 
 at the base, I saw the wrecks of similar machines 
 twisted and smashed out of all recognition by shrapnel, 
 each speaking of an adventure, and perhaps a tragedy. 
 The fact that these derelicts were being examined 
 for possible repair is a portent of the rigid economy 
 with which, on the French side of the Channel at any 
 rate, and perhaps on both, the war is now being 
 conducted. 
 
 I am not, of course, permitted to give names of 
 places, or numbers, or the names of the heads of de- 
 partments, but I shall be allowed to state that the 
 always growing immensity of the Armies, and the 
 workshops behind the Army, is little understood at 
 home, or even by those who have made frequent visits 
 to the war zone. 
 
 Mrs. Humphry Ward lately and delightfully lifted 
 the veil a little, but what is required to bring home 
 to the people of the Empire, who are so lavishly 
 outpouring their blood and treasure, and also to the 
 Allies and neutrals, is a continuous demonstration by 
 skilled writers, artists, lecturers, kinematograph oper- 
 ators, and photographers. Now that we have real 
 war news from the able scribes who are allowed to 
 tell us freely and frankly what is happening, readers 
 with imagination are awakening to the truth that we 
 have a whole South African campaign and a complete 
 Crimea every month. But of the war behind the 
 war, the battles behind the battles, employing skilled 
 workers considerably exceeding the number of the
 
 THE AIR BOYS 15 
 
 total original British Expeditionary Force, we have 
 but faint glimmerings. You can understand the 
 need of this vast establishment if you realize that 
 every part of an instrument of war has to be accom- 
 panied to France by its own attendants, its own sup- 
 plies, and its own transport. 
 
 The war plane of 1916 flies upwards and away with 
 the speed and grace of a dragon-fly. She has been 
 made perfect and beautiful for her flight by skilled 
 expert mechanics. When she returns after, let us 
 hope, her conquest, the boys who have escorted her 
 in the air (one of these I met was at school last year) 
 hand her over again to those attendants to see if she 
 has any rent in her gown or other mishap which may 
 be speedily mended. When, therefore, you see an 
 aeroplane you must realize that each machine has its 
 staff. Speed and efficiency being prime essentials of 
 victory, her caretakers must be skilled and young. 
 As for her supplies, there must be at hand a great 
 quantity of spare parts ready to be applied instantane- 
 ously, and there must be men, in case of need, who 
 can either alter or even make such parts. There 
 must be those who understand her camera and its 
 repair, her wireless and its working, men who have 
 already learnt the mysteries of the newest bombs, 
 rockets, and machine-guns. I take the aeroplane as 
 an instance because of its prominence in the public 
 eye. 
 
 What applies to an aeroplane applies in other 
 degrees to every kind of gun, to every form of motor 
 or horse transport, ambulances, field kitchens, filters, 
 and to a thousand articles which at first sight do not 
 necessarily seem to be part of war making. 
 
 The Army behind the Army is full of originality 
 It has already improved, on the spot, much machinery 
 which we had thought to have attained perfection. 
 This is a war of machinery as well as of bravery, and 
 among Germany's many blunders was her forgetful-
 
 16 AT THE WAR 
 
 ness of the British power of quick improvization and 
 organization in unexpected circumstances, which is a 
 secret of our success in building up the Empire in 
 strange lands. 
 
 The Army behind the Army is being squeezed for 
 men for the front. In some places it can legitimately 
 bear more squeezing, and it is getting it. On the 
 other hand, owing to their own burning desire or by 
 the pressure of the authorities men who, in the end, 
 would have killed more Germans by the use of their 
 own particular skill in the workshop have left the anvil, 
 the tools, the lathe, or the foundry for the firing line. 
 
 Our L. of C. in France (Lines of Communication) 
 has developed to what must be one of the largest 
 organizations in the world. It represents 6 per cent, 
 of the whole of our forces in France. It has to deal 
 with more spheres of human industry than I should be 
 allowed to mention. Its personnel, let me repeat, is being 
 revised continually by medical examinations that elim- 
 inate fit men for the trenches. The task is a delicate one. 
 An organization absolutely essential to victory has 
 at length, and after infinite labour, by promotion of 
 the skilled and rejection of the incompetent, been set 
 on its feet. We must make changes with caution. 
 
 At various times I have observed personally the 
 great organizations of the Clyde, the Tyne, of Belfast, 
 of Woolwich, Chicago, in and about Paris, at St. 
 Etienne, at the Creusot works, in Hamburg, in 
 Essen, and at Hoechst on the Rhine, and I say without 
 hesitation that, making allowances for war time, our 
 lines of communication organization, superimposed 
 as it is upon the overworked French railways and roads 
 and in a country where there is no native labour to 
 be had, is as near perfection as ever it can be. 
 
 And I say more that, difficult as economy 
 and war are to mate, I have on the occasion of this 
 visit and in contrast to the days of 1914 seen nothing 
 wasted. In the early months of the war there was
 
 WASTE NOT WANT NOT 17 
 
 waste at home and abroad arising from lack of control 
 of our national habit of spending money with both 
 hands. I remember a certain French village I visited 
 where every tiny mite was filling its mouth with 
 English bread and jam. To-day there is enough food 
 and a greater variety of foods than before, but there 
 is no waste that is visible even to an inquisitive critic. 
 
 Coming to the front, not only in the high commands 
 and among regimental officers and along the L. of C., 
 is a pleasing proportion of Scotch folk who, while 
 generous in the giving of ambulances, are not accus- 
 tomed to waste anything in war or at any other time. 
 To-day, almost before the reek and fume of battle 
 are over, almost before our own and the enemy dead 
 are all buried, the Salvage Corps appears on the 
 bloody and shell-churned scene to collect and pile 
 unused cartridge and machine-gun belts, unexploded 
 bombs, old shell cases, damaged rifles, haversacks, 
 steel helmets, and even old rags, which go to the base, 
 and are sold at 50 a ton. It is only old bottles, which 
 with old newspaper, letters, meat tins, and broken 
 boxes are a feature of the battlefields, that do not 
 appear to be worthy of salvage. 
 
 Regarding the utilization of waste products there 
 is as much ingenuity and industry along the Lines of 
 Communication as would satisfy the directorate of the 
 most highly over-organized German fabrik. At more 
 than one place I saw over 1,000 French and Belgian girls 
 cleansing and repairing clothing that had come back 
 from the front. They work and talk and sing with 
 alacrity, and I witnessed the process of the patching 
 and reconstructing of what looked like an impossible 
 waterproof coat, all in the course of a few moments. 
 Such labour saves the British nation hundreds of 
 thousands of pounds, and is considered well rewarded 
 at a wage of half-a-crown a day. 
 
 Elsewhere I saw men using the most modern 
 Northampton machinery for soling and heeling any
 
 i8 AT THE WAR 
 
 pair of old boots that would stand the operation, and 
 such footgear as was useless was not wasted, for by 
 an ingenious contrivance invented on the spot by a 
 young Dublin bootmaker the upper parts of these 
 boots were being converted into bootlaces by the 
 thousand. 
 
 In the Army machine shops the waste grease 
 is saved and the oil which escapes from every such 
 establishment is ingeniously trapped and sold to 
 local soapmakers at the equivalent of its present very 
 high value. 
 
 Since the early days of chaos and muddle we have 
 conveyed across the seas machine shops and mechanics 
 which must exceed by twice or thrice the total of 
 those in a humming town like Coventry. Such 
 factories have had to be manned, and manned with 
 labour able to meet the sudden emergencies of war. 
 The labour has all had to come from home. Clerks, 
 engineers, fitters, mechanics, quickly settled down 
 to the monotonous regularity of military life and 
 the communal existence of the barracks, huts, and 
 tents in which they live. True it is that every con- 
 sideration possible has been shown for their happiness, 
 comfort, and amusement. They have their own 
 excellent canteens, reading rooms, and places of 
 entertainment. They are not forgotten by the 
 Y.M.C.A. or by the Salvation Army and Church 
 Army, whose work cannot be too highly spoken 
 of. They are individually looked after by their 
 own heads of departments with solicitude and kind- 
 ness. The gramophone, the joy of the dug-outs, 
 the hospitals, and the billets, is a never-ending 
 source of entertainment. 
 
 The workers are by no means unable to amuse 
 themselves. They are well provided with kinemato- 
 graphs and frequent boxing tournaments. Gardening, 
 too, is one of their hobbies, and from the casualty 
 clearing stations at the front to the workers' huts
 
 THE BRITISH WORKMAN IN FRANCE 19 
 
 at the bases are to be counted thousands of English- 
 made gardens. The French, who know as little 
 of us as we do of them, were not a little surprised 
 to find that wherever he sojourns the British workman 
 insists on making himself a garden. At a great 
 veterinary hospital at one of the bases the men living 
 a considerable distance from a town and away 
 from other pastimes have planted for themselves 
 gardens that would be a credit to any prosperous 
 London suburb in peace time. 
 
 The energy, enterprise, and spirit of the base 
 commandants and hundreds of other officers along 
 the lines of communications, their tact in their 
 relations with our French friends, and their capacity 
 for overcoming obstacles have response in the en- 
 thusiasm of their workers. 
 
 Huge bakeries, the gigantic storehouses (one is 
 the largest in the world), factories, and repair shops 
 are filled with workers who are a visible contradiction 
 of the allegations as to the alleged slackness of the 
 British workman. The jealousy that exists in peace 
 times between most Army and civilian establishments 
 does not seem to be known. Great soldiers introduced 
 me with pride to young men who had no idea two years 
 ago that they would enter upon a quasi-military life 
 but have adapted themselves with wonderful facility 
 to entirely changed conditions. Many have brought 
 with them invaluable knowledge gained in the manage- 
 ment of great businesses at home and elsewhere. 
 
 It is true, of course, that the workmen in our 
 great French factories understand the war better 
 than their brothers at home. They are nearer to 
 the war. They live in the country invaded by the 
 Hun. They see their French fellow-workmen keyed 
 up to the highest pitch in the intense desire to rid 
 fair France of her despoiler. Daily they see rein- 
 forcements going to the front and the wounded 
 returning home. There is a war atmosphere even
 
 20 AT THE WAR 
 
 in towns like Havre and Rouen. The war is always 
 present. One day I saw a great number of captured 
 German cannons and other booty of which we hear 
 and see so little at home coming down from the 
 front. 
 
 The authorities in England seem to hide our German 
 prisoners. In France they work, and in public, 
 and are content with their lot, as I know by personal 
 enquiry of many of them. Save for the letters 
 " P.G." (prisonnier de guerre) at the back of their 
 coats it would be difficult to realise that comfortable- 
 looking, middle-aged Landsturm Hans, with his long 
 pipe, and young Fritz, with his cigarette, were pri- 
 soners at all. If it be true that there be congestion in 
 the docks at home caused by lack of labour, the 
 sooner German prisoners are put to work and help 
 to shorten the war the better. 
 
 The war atmosphere and the patriotic keenness of the 
 skilled mechanics and labour battalions in France have 
 enabled the Commander-in-Chief , Sir Douglas Haig, who 
 has personally visited the bases in hurried journeys 
 from the front, to accomplish what in peace time 
 would be the impossible. Transport alone is a miracle. 
 The railways are so encumbered that it is frequent 
 to see trains nearly a kilometre (five- eighths of a 
 mile) in length. As one travels about in search of 
 information mile-long convoys of motor lorries laden 
 with shells or food loom quickly towards one from out 
 of the dense dust, and it is by this combination of 
 rail and road that the almost impossible task has 
 been achieved of keeping pace with the German 
 strategic railways, which were built for the sole 
 purpose of the quick expedition of men and supplies. 
 
 There are complaints of delays in unloading and 
 " turning " shipping from England. These are the 
 same complaints that have been mentioned in the 
 Press and Parliament for many long months in regard 
 to the delay in handling shipping in England. In
 
 PERFECT MOTOR TRANSPORT 21 
 
 France it is a question of labour and dock accommo- 
 dation. The docks are being enlarged in more ports 
 than one, but yet more labour must be brought 
 from Britain if greater speed is required. 
 
 We at home can help to speed up the machine 
 if we put our backs into the task as is being done 
 in France. Our motor-lorry- and other motor-makers 
 could greatly facilitate the work by standardization 
 of motor parts. I do not know how many types 
 of motor vehicles are being used in France, but I 
 counted more than two score. Each of these 
 requires its own spare parts in order that repairs 
 can be speedily effected, and it must always be borne 
 in mind that delay in war time is fatal. There are 
 in use no fewer than 50,000 different kinds of spare 
 parts, including nuts, bolts, rivets, and screws. By 
 proper co-operation between the various manufacturers 
 these could be reduced to a minimum. 
 
 In order to help economy all spare parts are supplied 
 when possible from the salvage of machines of the 
 same type. All this debris has to be carefully 
 collected, repaired and arranged in depots in such 
 a manner that missing parts can be found instantly. 
 The Germans use, comparatively, few types of motor 
 vehicles and have, therefore, an advantage over us. 
 
 As one of the pioneers of automobilization I should 
 like to offer my tribute to all sections of the motor 
 transport department in France, and especially to 
 the economic manner in which waste has been 
 eliminated. 
 
 Scattered among the Army behind the Army 
 are schools where war is taught by officers who 
 have studied the art at the front. Here in vast 
 camps the spectator might easily imagine that he 
 was at the front itself. Here the pupils fresh from 
 England are drilled in every form of fighting. 
 
 There is something uncanny in the approach of 
 a company to a communicating trench, in its vanishing
 
 22 AT THE WAR 
 
 under the earth, and its reappearance some hundreds 
 of yards away, where clambering " over the top," 
 to use the most poignant expression of the war, 
 the soldier pupils dash forward in a vociferous 
 bayonet charge. At these great reinforcement camps 
 are gas mask attacks, where pupils are passed through 
 underground chambers, filled with real gas, that they 
 may become familiarized with one of the worst curses 
 of warfare. The gas itself is a subtle and at first 
 not a very fearsome enemy, but the victim is apt 
 to be overcome before he is aware of it. 
 
 And at these miniature battlefields, all of them 
 larger than the field of Waterloo, are demonstration 
 lecturers who teach bombing, first with toy bombs 
 that explode harmlessly with a slight puff, and then 
 with the real Mills bombs which have a noisy and 
 destructive effect altogether disproportionate to their 
 size and innocent appearance. The various types 
 of machine-guns are fired at ingenious targets all 
 the day long. There are actual dug-outs in which 
 pupils are interned with entrances closed while gas 
 is profusely projected around them so that they may 
 learn how to deal with the new weapon by spraying 
 it and flapping it away when the entrance is uncovered 
 at a given signal. Crater fighting is taught with an 
 actual reproduction of a crater, by a lusty sergeant 
 who has seen much of the actual thing, and tells 
 the men what to do with their bombs and with 
 Germans. Such schools are known to exist through- 
 out Germany, but no Prussian thoroughness can 
 better these British war-training schools in France. 
 For those who are not so quick in intelligence as 
 others there is a revival of the old awkward squad 
 who are taught slowly and patiently with remarkable 
 results. 
 
 In the centre of one of these schools there arrived, 
 while I was on the scene, a great number of German 
 prisoners on their way to the Base. I do not know
 
 CAPTURED GERMANS 23 
 
 how many young soldiers just landed from England 
 were being trained that day. Certainly many, many 
 thousands, and I do not wonder that the prisoners 
 were amazed at the spectacle before them. One of 
 them frankly confessed in excellent English that his 
 comrades were under the impression that we had no 
 men left. 
 
 The food supplied to these German prisoners 
 here, as everywhere, was excellent and they did 
 not hesitate to say so. Temporary baths and other 
 washing arrangements were fitted up for them, they 
 had an abundance of tobacco, and were just as com- 
 fortably off in their tents as our soldiers not actually 
 in barracks. Their condition on arrival here, as 
 elsewhere, was appalling. Imprisoned in their 
 trenches by our barrage of fire, they had been deprived 
 of many of the necessities of life for days, and on their 
 arrival ate ravenously. Most of them were Prussian 
 Guards and Bavarians, and the number who had the 
 Iron Cross ribbon in their button-holes was eloquent 
 testimony to the type of enemy troops our New Armies 
 have been fighting. 
 
 If there be loss of time and energy in the Army 
 behind the Army it may be found in one or two of the 
 clerical establishments, which might be carefully 
 modernized. In some of these departments it is 
 said that men of military age are still engaged. If 
 this be so, there is still a certain supply of superfluous 
 middle-aged clerical labour at home that might be 
 gradually introduced. 
 
 There is beyond question a growing demand for 
 the filling up of more and more forms in connexion 
 with the Army. It is a disease which should be 
 checked now before it becomes a hindrance to efficient 
 working. In some of the clerical departments the 
 use of modern files and indexes does not seem to be 
 general, but this does not apply to all departments, 
 for I saw many that were quite up-to-date.
 
 24 AT THE WAR 
 
 In one great branch is kept a complete record 
 of every British soldier, from the hour of his arrival 
 in France to his departure, or death. Think of the 
 countless essential letters, and forms that must neces- 
 sarily be filled up, to achieve that end efficiently 
 and with accuracy. 
 
 Another department, which exists for the satis- 
 faction of relatives, and possible decisions in the 
 Court of Probate, keeps an exact record of the time 
 of death and place of burial of every officer and private 
 soldier in France, whether he comes from the British 
 Islands or the Dominions. Such establishments 
 necessarily demand the use of much clerical labour. 
 
 It should be remembered always, in regard to such 
 a department as that which follows the course of 
 every soldier in France, that Tommy is a difficult 
 person to deal with. It is more than possible that 
 there is a considerable number of men who have been 
 reported as missing and dead who are not missing or 
 dead at all. One case was discovered whilst I was 
 at a certain office. It was that of a soldier who had 
 been reported missing for more than a year but who 
 was found in comfortable surroundings doing duty 
 as an Army cook in a totally different part of the field 
 from that in which he disappeared. 
 
 There are countless departments of which the 
 public knows nothing. I have only space and time 
 to deal with one more. It is that which watches over 
 the recovery of the effects of dead men and officers. 
 There are separate departments for each, but I only 
 saw that affecting the men. 
 
 The work begins on the battlefield and in the 
 hospitals, where I saw the dead bodies being rever- 
 ently searched. A list is carefully made there and 
 then, and that list accompanies the little familiar 
 belongings which are a part of every man's life to one 
 of the great bases on the lines of communication. 
 The bag is there opened by two clerks, who check it
 
 DEAD MEN'S RELICS 25 
 
 once more, securely fastening it, and sending it 
 home, where it eventually reaches the next-of-kin. I 
 watched the opening of one such pathetic parcel during 
 the final checking. It contained a few pence, a pipe, 
 a photo of wife and bairn, a trench ring made of the 
 aluminium of an enemy fuze, a small diary, and a 
 pouch. It was all the man had. 
 
 They told me that nearly every soldier carries a 
 souvenir. In one haversack was found a huge piece 
 of German shell which had probably been carried for 
 months. The relatives at home set great store on 
 these treasures, and though the proper officials 
 to address are those at the War Office, London, the 
 people in France are often in receipt of indignant 
 letters from relatives asking why this or that trifle 
 has not been returned. 
 
 One of them which arrived that day said, " I gave 
 my son to the war, you have had him, you might 
 at least return all his property intact. Where are 
 the pair of gloves and zinc ointment he had with 
 him ? " 
 
 The work of collecting these last mementos of the 
 dead is carried out with promptness, care, and very 
 kindly feeling, despite the monotony of the task, 
 which begins in the morning and goes on to the 
 evening, a task which is increasing daily with the 
 size of the war.
 
 THE WOMEN ARE SPLENDID 
 
 c 2
 
 THE WOMEN ARE SPLENDID 1 
 
 WOMAN'S part in the war ; not the tender nursing 
 part that was expected by all but the great share 
 she is taking in what was once man's work is one of 
 the great surprises. 
 
 There is just a note of wounded vanity in the con- 
 fessions of thousands of men who have to admit to-day 
 that, unknown to themselves, they have been perform- 
 ing tasks which are now proved to have been women's 
 work. Across the Channel, in France, women have 
 always successfully managed large businesses. There 
 is a large number of cases in point : Mme. Pommery, 
 whose champagne sparkles around the world ; Mme. 
 Duval, who organized the popular restaurants that 
 were the forerunners of so many in London ; Mme. 
 Paquin, who succeeded her husband in the great 
 modiste business ; Mme. Curie, who discovered 
 radium. Women play a prominent part in French 
 politics, French business, French science, French 
 agriculture, and in French affairs generally. 
 
 Throughout the English-speaking world we have 
 always prided ourselves on sheltering our women- 
 kind. We have not, for example, cared to see them 
 working in the fields and at the heavier forms of man- 
 ual labour. There has been a great deal of self- 
 deception about it, because, after all, women have 
 
 1 This article was among the first to call attention to the great 
 
 part played by women in the effective waging of war. 
 
 29
 
 30 AT THE WAR 
 
 performed heavy tasks in factories for a century or 
 more. And we must not forget our old friends, the 
 chainmakers of Cradley Heath. 
 
 Again, from the days of Florence Nightingale the 
 noble work of nursing our sick and carrying on the 
 service of our hospitals has been to an increasing 
 extent in the hands of women. In no field have 
 they displayed a higher competence, a more sublime 
 devotion ; and few indeed are they who have not at 
 some time or other in their lives incurred a tremendous 
 debt to the British hospital nurse. Again, here and 
 there before the war, gifted women, such as Elizabeth 
 Fry and Octavia Hill, showed the way in social 
 reform among us, and lately women have shone in 
 journalism and in municipal work. 
 
 Yet, despite these very striking exceptions, the 
 war has already proved that woman has not hitherto 
 been given her opportunity in most parts of the 
 Empire. For some years her cause was obscured by 
 the hysteria of the Suffragettes. To-day it begins 
 to look as though the votes-for-women demonstrations 
 were but manifestations of the tremendous pent-up 
 energy of more than half the nation. 
 
 Women have taken to every kind of war work 
 with a rapidity and adaptability that have certainly 
 not been shown by all the ruling sex. It has been 
 openly admitted that in many munition factories 
 women, in their eagerness to defeat the enemy, are 
 producing a greater output of energy each day than 
 men working in the same shops. 
 
 Women have successfully initiated themselves into 
 new kinds of war work which had hitherto been 
 regarded as coming only within man's sphere. Some- 
 times, however, woman, in the excess of her zeal, 
 is doing work she ought not to be permitted to do 
 in the interest of the race and the nation. Delicately- 
 bred women should not be allowed to push trades- 
 men's heavy tricycles or undertake the duties of
 
 FEMININE CAPACITY 31 
 
 grooms and ostlers. But there are still wide fields 
 of opportunity for them in most of the indoor and 
 many of the outdoor occupations. 
 
 These vocations will remain open in those dim and 
 distant days, known as " After the war," when no 
 self-respecting male will again be seen matching 
 ribbons behind counters, typewriting, standing behind 
 aldermanic chairs, or playing the piano at kinema 
 theatres. The men who have been bomb-throwing 
 will have no appetite for the hundred-and-one gentle 
 and essentially feminine pursuits by which they have 
 hitherto earned their living. 
 
 Every woman who is releasing a man from his work 
 is helping in the war. And to do them justice 
 women, with their characteristic intuition, saw that 
 fact instantly. Every woman so engaged is showing 
 the world the real capacity of her sex for many 
 kinds of labour, and is also helping the country to 
 progress towards a much-desired goal : the more equal 
 distribution of money among the people. 
 
 Before the war, in dreary, manless suburbs and 
 provincial towns, thousands of nice girls, whose 
 families thought it beneath their dignity that they 
 should work, preferred the boresome existence of 
 keeping up appearances on small dress allowances 
 to an active participation in daily life. Since the 
 war these young women have entered into the battle 
 of industrial work with joyousness and, though the 
 absence of the best of the land in the war zone is 
 unhappily delaying the marriage to which every 
 patriotic woman looks forward, they have the great 
 satisfaction of knowing that, whether they be women 
 doctors, women dentists, women clerks, women 
 ticket collectors, or engaged in any other profession, 
 they are helping the great cause of Freedom.
 
 A CIVILIAN'S IMPRESSIONS OF THE WAR
 
 A CIVILIAN'S IMPRESSIONS OF THE WAR 
 
 IT is a strange sensation, that of being the only 
 man in civilian clothes among hundreds of thousands 
 of soldiers. 
 
 At first the attention one receives from eyes always 
 either curious or suspicious is embarrassing, and even 
 after some weeks of the armies one never quite gets 
 used to the situation. It is but natural that soldiers 
 have no use for any but soldiers in war-time. Officers 
 and men may not appear to be anxious, or working 
 with great intensity, but everyone in an army knows 
 that he is part of an intricate machine, and that 
 although his part may be only a small one, it is 
 
 essential to the whole. 
 
 ****** 
 
 A civilian, therefore, is an intruder, a mere passenger 
 among an overworked crew. Almost the only civilians 
 who are ever to be found in civilian costume close 
 to the fighting-line are members of Parliament, 
 members of the French Chamber of Deputies, or an 
 occasional irregular correspondent. Regular corre- 
 spondents, both with the French and British Armies, 
 are in uniform. Even the kinematograph operators 
 with the French Army are in uniform, and wear 
 the steel helmet of the troops as well they may, for 
 a stray shot from a rifle or a fragment of shrapnel may 
 wander far from its intended path, and now and then 
 the kinematograph operator, if he is to take a great
 
 36 AT THE WAR 
 
 picture, can only do so by getting close to the enemy. 
 Armies objected to civilians at the beginning of the 
 war because they feared them as spies. It is now 
 thought, however, that spies with the armies have 
 been practically eradicated ; and if there be any 
 spies at the Front, they are not so foolish as to wear 
 the ordinary overcoat and cap of civilian life, inviting 
 as they do a demand for passes and other papers at 
 
 every turn. 
 
 ***** 
 
 One's first impression of war is chaos and confusion, 
 and the immensity of it all. 
 
 Miles back from the battle-line, it may be a hundred 
 miles or only twenty, are the bases at which all the 
 army supplies are first assembled and stored. We 
 
 will say that the base is the port of , and from 
 
 that base are supplied one hundred thousand men, 
 with their horses, if they have them, their motors, 
 bicycles, rifles, guns great and small, machine-guns, 
 bombs, aeroplanes, observation balloons, clothes, 
 medical stores, beef, bacon, butter, cheese, jam, 
 pickles, pepper, salt, shells of all sizes, cartridges, 
 forage, harness, carts, portable hospitals, ambulance- 
 wagons, games, and a hundred and one other things 
 which will suggest themselves to any person who has 
 had something to do with the equipment of a single 
 soldier since the war began. All these supplies have 
 to be kept at high- water mark in regular daily rotation, 
 and one easily understands how it is that in the British 
 Army the all-round cost of a soldier is between five 
 and six pounds a week. Realising that what one'sees 
 before one are only the supplies for one hundred 
 thousand men, it requires very little effort of the 
 imagination to picture the colossal stores needed 
 for the four millions of men who are fighting in Bel- 
 gium and France alone. 
 
 The first impression, therefore, of war, is the im- 
 mensity and complication of it.
 
 WAR AS A BUSINESS 37 
 
 The next and more mature impression that one 
 gets is that now war has settled down to a regular 
 business, it proceeds at the bases with the clockwork 
 
 regularity of a great business. 
 
 *.**** 
 
 Near most of the bases are the base hospitals. On 
 what a gigantic scale are preparations made for the 
 casualties in modern war ! How truly wonderful are 
 these hospitals, whether they be of the Royal Army 
 Medical Corps, the British Red Cross Society, or the 
 Order of St. John of Jerusalem ! If there has been 
 much fighting recently, the hotels which have been 
 turned into hospitals and the remarkable hut hospitals 
 will be filled. There never was a more wonderful work 
 done in the world's history than the care of the 
 wounded soldiers of the British Empire in this great 
 struggle. On the north-west of France, between 
 Etaples and Wimereux, are literally miles of hut 
 hospitals, situated on high, dry ground, on well-built 
 foundations, with well-made roads, electric light, 
 and perfect operating theatres and dental parlours- 
 hospitals just as good as the very best of their kind 
 in our great cities at home, and staffed by men in 
 the highest position in the medical profession, many 
 of them having given up large practices in London, 
 Montreal, or Sydney, as the case may be. 1 Elsewhere 
 behind the lines are other hospitals of various types. 
 To these establishments are attached wonderful con- 
 voys of ambulances. 
 
 ***** 
 
 Though the precision and violence of modern 
 weapons may have greatly increased the danger of 
 warfare, science, Listerism, and mechanical ingenuity 
 have come to the rescue by providing all sorts of 
 means by which the lives of the wounded are saved. 
 Chief among these is the motor-ambulance, which 
 
 1 Elsewhere in this volume I have dealt with the Medical Services 
 in a chapter entitled 'f The War Doctors."
 
 38 AT THE WAR 
 
 swiftly brings the wounded man from the casualty 
 clearing- station in the field to a hospital where he 
 is more thoroughly attended to, and then direct or 
 to railhead for dispatch to the nearest base hospital. 
 It is wonderful to think that there are men who have 
 been seriously wounded, given due medical attention, 
 taken to the base, and brought to London, all in less 
 than eighteen hours. 
 
 In addition to land hospitals, there are floating 
 hospitals, most beautifully fitted up, literally sea- 
 palaces for the wounded. John Bull has indeed taken 
 good care of those who have suffered in his cause. 
 Let us hope, and see to it, that he will be as thoughtful 
 
 for the disabled and their dependents in the future. 
 ****** 
 
 Leaving the base, one is naturally anxious to reach 
 actual warfare as speedily as one can. So much 
 has been written about the British and the Belgian 
 trenches, in which I have often stood, that I think it 
 would be more interesting if I described in detail the 
 approach to the great battle of Verdun, one of the 
 greatest struggles in the history of the world. 
 
 Verdun is in Eastern France, about one hunded 
 and fifty miles from Paris, and the battle zone 
 begins long, long before you get to the neighbour- 
 hood of Verdun itself. I went to Verdun by auto-car. 
 The railways, of course, are blocked with cannon, 
 ammunition, food, and troops. 
 
 Long before reaching the front, twenty-five miles 
 from the battle, it had been obvious that we 
 were approaching some great event. Whole villages 
 were filled with soldiers, resting or waiting to be 
 called into the line. There were great fields full 
 of artillery, " parks," as they are called, and vast 
 plains covered with wagons at close intervals. As 
 for wheeled vehicles, whenever I see one now I think 
 of the war. Soldiers frequently travel by motor-omni- 
 buses of all kinds from their rest places to the
 
 A COUNT OF SHELLS 39 
 
 threshold of the firing-line, but there are in Europe 
 hundreds of thousands, I might say millions, of horse 
 vehicles of all sizes and shapes. Both England and 
 France have responded wonderfully to the call for 
 transport. 
 
 In August, 1914, we at once requisitioned trades- 
 men's delivery vans. It was amusing at that time 
 at the British Front to see motors belonging to 
 well-known English, Scotch, and Irish breweries 
 going on their way to the Front laden with soldiers 
 or shells, and also to see pleasure motor charabancs 
 with the names of Margate, Blackpool, and Scar- 
 borough emblazoned thereon. These, however, have 
 mostly been either superseded or painted the dull 
 military^ grey and khaki which one associates with 
 
 this grim, grim war. 
 
 ***** 
 
 Waiting, and ominous, are vast arrays of ambu- 
 lances, both horse and motor. 
 
 Then one comes across huge reserve stores of 
 ammunition. It has been stated that up to the 
 time at which I write (April, 1916) the Germans have 
 fired fifteen millions of shells during the battles for 
 Verdun. 
 
 A million is a very large number. People use 
 the terms thousands, hundreds of thousands, and 
 millions glibly and rather vaguely. Certain it is, 
 however, that the French, when I was with them, 
 had millions of reserve shells. I counted certain 
 sections containing a thousand shells, and could 
 judge roughly how many times the amount of space 
 occupied was represented by quantities of other 
 shells of the same size which I saw. It was in this 
 way easy to arrive at the fact that of great and little 
 shells the French had many millions. Shells for 
 the 75 or the British three-inch gun take up com- 
 paratively little space when standing on end. 
 
 But it is not only ammunition and soldiers that
 
 40 AT THE WAR 
 
 are going along the road to the battle. There are 
 the great supplies of bread and meat. The French, 
 covering their Paris motor-omnibuses with perforated 
 zinc, transformed them into meat wagons. Everything 
 
 now goes to the battle on wheels. 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 It is rarely that one hears bands in modern war. 
 Once, on my way to the battle of Verdun, I came 
 across something that looked like a war picture 
 a squadron of lancers with their pennants gaily 
 streaming, preceded by a corps of buglers. 
 
 For the rest this war is a horrible, grim, mechanical 
 business. Bravery, of course, still counts, and British 
 and French bravery has done much to meet the 
 superiority in big guns which the Germans un- 
 doubtedly had at the beginning. 
 
 Considerably away from the firing-line, five, eight, 
 ten, or even twenty-five miles, are the headquarters 
 of the various armies. War is not directed from the 
 battlefield as of yore. The idea of Napoleon and 
 Wellington eyeing each other through telescopes, 
 which it is alleged they did, seems ridiculous to a 
 modern soldier who has not seen the little field of 
 Waterloo. The German and French generals at 
 the battle of Verdun were always at least twenty 
 miles apart. The headquarters of a general might 
 be the headquarters of a railway contractor, with 
 its maps, plans, clerks, typewriters, and innumerable 
 telephones. There is nearly always a wireless station 
 outside, where the various communiques can be 
 read. 
 
 My experience of such headquarters, and I have 
 been to a good many, is that there is apparently 
 less excited discussion of the particular battle than 
 you may witness at home between any two people 
 talking of it in the club or railway train. There is 
 no lack of information, because the staff at headquar- 
 ters is linked up by long-distance and other telephones
 
 NEWSPAPER BATTLE MAPS 41 
 
 with the soldier in the field. There is generally 
 distributed each day a little bulletin giving the 
 soldier some idea of what is going on. Otherwise, 
 existing as he does in a line that is hundreds of miles 
 in length, he would have the vaguest notion of what 
 is taking place. Indeed, it is the newspaper that 
 has come from London or from Paris which is his 
 chief source of information, for in those great centres 
 all the news of the war is collected, explained by maps, 
 and put forth in a way that makes it extremely 
 easy for the soldier on the spot to understand. I 
 followed the battle of Verdun from a large staff 
 map, but also from maps cut from London newspapers, 
 
 which I found to be wonderfully accurate. 
 ***** 
 
 Once inside the final cordon of sentries, the civilian 
 at the war attracts but very little attention. People 
 do not know who he is and do not care, but they 
 realize that he could not have got there without 
 proper authority, and as everybody is very busy 
 with his own part of the great affair, the 
 civilian sinks into the comparative insignificance 
 which he should rightly occupy. My own personal 
 feeling was one of regret that I was not able to do 
 something to help in what was going on. 
 
 When I reached the battle of Verdun I was confused 
 at first as to what was happening ; but I had with me 
 two most excellent young officers who explained the 
 position. I was reluctant to use their services, 
 and was relieved to find that while showing me 
 what was taking place, which they did by signs, for 
 the noise was sometimes too great to permit conversa- 
 tion except in yells, they were carrying out part of 
 their appointed work of observation and were busily 
 
 making notes. 
 
 * * * # # 
 
 Does the civilian incur danger in war ? It is, of 
 course, the object of military authorities to see that 
 
 D
 
 42 AT THE WAR 
 
 he is kept as safe as possible, but in these days of 
 snipers, stray bullets, shell fragments, and what 
 not, he must share to some extent, however carefully 
 guarded, the dangers of the day. I have had a 
 number of narrow escapes in the war. Everybody 
 has had. I did not like it. I do not believe that 
 anyone does. I cannot conceive that anybody likes 
 to be in a village that is being shelled, or in an open 
 space that is being shelled, or in a motor-car going 
 along a road that is being shelled. I have noticed 
 that the older and more experienced the soldier, 
 the less he takes chances. There are chances even 
 in looking through periscopes at a considerable 
 distance from the enemy. 
 
 There are chances in sheltering behind the walls 
 of shelled towns, for the freaks of shell fragments 
 are extraordinary, as are the freaks of artillery 
 bombardment. In some villages one will find the 
 whole of both sides of a street down, with the exception 
 of, here and there, a cottage absolutely untouched. 
 The effect on the earth of one of these terrific bombard- 
 ments is to furrow it, plough it, and made deep holes 
 in it, as though some upheaval of Nature had taken 
 place. Occasionally one will find a whole area bom- 
 barded entirely out of recognition buildings, trees, 
 and trenches so smashed and destroyed as to give 
 much the effect of the two scenes of earthquake I 
 have witnessed in the course of my travels. Very 
 often, owing to mis-information, the enemy has 
 bombarded for two or three days points that have 
 not been occupied at all. It is not true that every 
 bullet has its billet, and that every shell does material 
 damage. Men are so clever in concealing the where- 
 abouts of themselves and their guns in the present 
 kind of warfare that I do not suppose one shell in 
 a hundred has any bearing upon a military result. 
 A great many of the people who read these lines 
 will have seen shells made, and one regrets the waste
 
 INDIVIDUAL SOLDIERS 43 
 
 of human effort in this horrible, but, unfortunately, 
 
 necessary business. 
 
 ***** 
 
 When I first went into the war zones in the early 
 days of the great conflict the soldiers were as strange 
 to the war as civilians are now, but they have learned 
 much. Above all, they have learned never to show 
 themselves. They are infinitely more careful than 
 is a civilian on his first visit. " We never go along 
 such and such a route on a dry day," said an officer, 
 11 because the dust raised by the motor reveals our 
 presence. . . . We never go along that road at 
 night because the Germans believe we bring up 
 supplies or reliefs by that route. . . . We long ago 
 ceased wearing that kind of cap, because, when wet, 
 the sun glistens on it and it forms a kind of helio- 
 graph." 
 
 ***** 
 
 Of the many devices to trick and deceive the enemy 
 I will not speak. They have multiplied amazingly 
 during the long, weary months since the beginning 
 of the war. I believe the British Army, with the 
 Canadians and Australians, is pre-eminent in inventing 
 all kinds of surprises. I have elsewhere referred 
 to the fact that German prisoners at Verdun spoke 
 to me of their satisfaction at being away from Ypres, 
 where the ferocious British are ! Our soldiers are 
 individual. They embark on little individual enter- 
 prises. The German, though a good soldier when 
 advancing with numbers under strict discipline, 
 is not so clever at these devices. He was never 
 taught them before the war, and his whole train- 
 ing from childhood upwards has been to obey, and 
 to obey in numbers. He has not played individual 
 games. Football, which develops individuality, has 
 only been introduced into Germany in comparatively 
 recent times. His amusements have been gymnastic 
 discipline to the word of command, and swimming 
 
 D 2
 
 44 AT THE WAR 
 
 and diving displays of like kind, at which the Germans 
 are very wonderful. It is a grave reflection on the 
 deeds of British or French soldiers to say that the 
 Germans are not brave. They are brave, but in 
 a way different from our kind of bravery. They 
 do not take war in the British spirit, which they 
 consider to be frivolous and too much akin to sport, 
 or in the French spirit, which is that of the fierceness 
 that comes to men who are defending their native 
 
 land. 
 
 ***** 
 
 Germans are naturally, so far as the Prussians 
 and Bavarians are concerned, extremely cruel. Ger- 
 man non-commissioned officers when taken prisoners 
 with their men treat their private soldiers with a 
 bullying savagery that is astonishing, and officer 
 prisoners decline absolutely to pay any attention to 
 their men, even though they have been wounded. 
 A French officer, who had been taken prisoner by 
 the Germans, told me that though the Germans 
 treated their lightly wounded men with extreme 
 care, because they wished to get them back into 
 the firing-line quickly, the very badly wounded cases 
 were neglected until the last. 
 
 Indeed, the wounded man is not the hero in war 
 that we make him at home. He is well looked after, 
 but the chief object of an army is to get fit men where 
 they can do most work, and to get them forward as 
 rapidly as possible. Thus it is that the advance of 
 new men to the battle from places where they are 
 being rested, together with their supplies, takes pre- 
 cedence of everything on the road or railway. The 
 object of both sides is to win, and while, as I say, 
 every care is taken of the wounded, priority is given 
 
 to the forwarding of fighting men. 
 
 ***** 
 
 France is so well supplied with roads that often 
 as not a certain road is reserved for traffic going to
 
 CHANGING AIR TACTICS 4^ 
 
 the battle, and another for that which is returning. 
 I often wonder what would happen if war were to 
 take place in England, with our small, narrow lanes 
 and well-kept but illogically arranged roadways. 
 There would be beyond question an immense and 
 dangerous congestion of traffic. The road, say, from 
 London to Dover, one of the principal highways in 
 England, is in one part extremely narrow and tortuous. 
 I presume the authorities have thought out all these 
 things, but it is a fact, which any foreigner can detect 
 by looking at our maps, that we are not well provided 
 with strategic railways or strategic roads. In France 
 they have also the great advantage of wonderful 
 canals, not the ditches to which we give that appel- 
 lation here, but wide waterways carrying barges, 
 which, turned into hospitals, have been of the greatest 
 use in the transport of cases requiring great care. 
 These floating hospitals are quiet, cool, and well 
 
 ventilated, and have been of great utility. 
 * * * * * 
 
 As the war has progressed, and one must always 
 bear in mind that each month has changed it, there 
 has been a great development of air fighting. The 
 first air fight I witnessed was a very vague affair, 
 in which neither side seemed to do very much, but 
 every pair of eyes for miles was watching it. To-day 
 air fights are very common occurrences, and on the 
 whole are most dramatic and interesting to watch, 
 but they do not engage anything like the attention 
 they originally did. The fighting aeroplane, with 
 its handy machine-gun so arranged that it can assail 
 the enemy from many angles, is developing every 
 month. It used to be said that the air was the safest 
 place in the war. That is no longer true. A great 
 French general, who knew what he was talking 
 about, told me that the air fighters were, he thought, 
 the most courageous men of all. When I looked 
 at the modern fighting aeroplane, described in the
 
 46 AT THE WAR 
 
 next chapter, with its 200 h.p. engine, and compared 
 it with the planes of seven or eight years ago in which 
 I made a few flights, I realized that war has developed 
 the aeroplane at a speed that would not have been 
 possible in peace-time. Yet even now human inge- 
 nuity has not been able to invent an aeroplane that 
 
 can hover or keep even relatively still in the air. 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 Every one of my readers should carefully think over 
 and discuss the future of the British Islands and the 
 British Empire in view of the developments of war in 
 the air. Let it be realized that the practical aeroplane 
 is not yet ten years old, that already our shores are 
 within less than twenty minutes by air from the 
 Continent of Europe. Let it be realized that 
 aeroplanes are very cheap to make and will become 
 cheaper. The vast change that this invention has 
 produced in the position of England does not even now 
 
 seem to be understood by one person?in a hundred. 
 
 * * * * " * 
 
 The war zone is a world apart. After a few days' 
 immersion therein one becomes so completely ab- 
 sorbed in the activities around that the outer world 
 is entirely forgotten. There is practically no night 
 or day in that curious land, and there is sometimes 
 as much activity in the hours of darkness as in the 
 hours of daylight. There are none of the long reliefs 
 from fighting that were experienced so lately as the 
 Napoleonic wars. There is no longer a going into 
 winter quarters. The battle of Verdun was com- 
 menced in the freezing month of February. The 
 strain of modern warfare is, therefore, so great that 
 I am of the opinion that as much leave as possible 
 should be given to the men, and more to officers 
 and especially to officers of the higher command. 
 I know this is not the view of those who think 
 that continued absences make for slack discipline. 
 I have not observed or heard of any actual cases of
 
 WAR FATIGUE 47 
 
 weakness in discipline due to holiday. I have, how- 
 ever, met at the Front many men I knew in peace- 
 time who are showing sign of war fatigue, and a 
 tired man is of no use in war or any other worldly 
 affair. 
 
 Two years ago very few people had any idea of 
 the nature of the coming warfare. Not one modern 
 military writer gave warning of the intensity of the 
 attention with which each army would watch the 
 other at close range and with all kinds of new and 
 unexpected weapons.
 
 WARPLANES
 
 WARPLANES 
 
 SOME OF THE TYPES 
 
 LIKE the modern machine-gun, and other war de- 
 velopments, the aeroplane began in the United States. 
 The two brothers Wright, of Dayton, Ohio, were the 
 men who revolutionized the business of war. I 
 have often wondered if in the Wrights' early experi- 
 ments at Kittyhawk, Virginia, they realized to the 
 full the tremendous weapon they were placing in 
 the hands of the modern artilleryman. 
 
 I knew Wilbur Wright and saw some of the begin- 
 nings of aviation. Orville, the remaining brother, has 
 behaved with great generosity to us in the disposal of 
 the British patents. We have as yet accorded no 
 national recognition to the Wrights. 
 
 * * -'t * * 
 
 There are four purposes in the war to which the 
 invention of those modest inventors has been put, 
 and each purpose is in itself a revolutionary change 
 in warfare. On the whole I should say that the 
 direction of artillery fire is the chief result as yet 
 attained by the use of the Wrights' invention. Ar- 
 tillery work has, of course, produced by far the greatest 
 amount of damage on land since the war began. 
 Without the aeroplane big guns would be of little 
 use except against objects visible to the artillery- 
 man. With the aeroplane, from which signals can 
 be made either by wireless or by day electric helio-
 
 52 AT THE WAR 
 
 graphs, the artilleryman soon learns his errors, and, 
 owing to the precision of modern weapons, can follow 
 with amazing sureness the advice of the aeroplane 
 observer. 
 
 The type of machine used for observing, like all 
 the latest patterns of warplanes, is now armoured 
 with steel in its most vulnerable parts and provided 
 with a machine-gun in case it should be attacked. 
 These observing aeroplanes should be able, as far 
 as is yet possible, to hover in the air in order that 
 the man with the telescope who sits in front or behind 
 the pilot may be able to see as accurately as possible 
 where the shells are falling. But the observing 
 aeroplane has to be sufficiently rapid to escape the 
 fighting plane that will most certainly be sent up 
 after it as speedily as it is discovered. 
 
 A second type comprise the fighting planes. 
 
 These should be armed as heavily as possible, and 
 it is no secret that the French are putting quite 
 large cannon in aeroplanes. They may be managed 
 by one, two or three men, and in certain types each 
 of the men can be a combatant. In this matter of 
 adaptability of aeroplanes to air fighting the French, 
 who speedily developed the Wrights' invention, took 
 the lead. 
 
 Such machines are fitted with searchlights worked 
 from dynamos driven by little windmills in the 
 planes. They are provided with either a small 
 cannon or one or two machine-guns, and the fighting 
 man is further armed with a long-distance revolver. 
 His work is the most dangerous in the war. It is 
 a game for young men only and for the very pick 
 of the human race as regards quickness, audacity, 
 knowledge of engine, coolness, resource, and good 
 shooting. Such a man must be prepared, if necessary, 
 to dive head foremost one or two thousand feet at 
 the enemy. He is the man on whom we rely to kill 
 the Zeppelins.
 
 AIRMEN MUST FLY HIGH 53 
 
 The early air duels were of slow movement. The 
 battles of to-day resemble the swift flight of the 
 swallow and the swoop of the hawk. 
 
 I am indebted to the French authorities for op- 
 portunity of close study of their machines and methods. 
 
 I have also seen something of the splendid work of 
 our R.F.C. in France. 
 
 Air fighting is changing so rapidly that the attempt 
 at simplification of a complex and new arm may be 
 out of date before the book is out of the hands of the 
 binders. 
 
 The vital factor of the aeroplane and this 
 applies to all the four types with which I am dealing 
 is the engine, its capacity and weight. The heavier 
 the engine the slower the machine's ability to rise 
 and the less gun-weight and ammunition and petrol 
 it can carry. 
 
 A third type of aeroplane, which has attracted 
 most attention but has not really been so im- 
 portant as the first and second types I have 
 described, is the bomb-dropper. At the beginning 
 of the war bomb-dropping was very effective, because 
 the flyers, in the absence of efficient anti-aircraft 
 artillery, were able to fly low and aim carefully at 
 ammunition depots, railroad junctions, Zeppelin sheds, 
 and other fairly large objects. Some of the early 
 flying was done at merely six thousand feet from the 
 ground. Anti-aircraft guns speedily caused the airmen 
 to fly much higher, and to-day, at twelve to fifteen 
 thousand feet, they have little chance of aiming with 
 such degree of precision. They can hit a town, of 
 course, but to damage a particular building in a 
 town is more or less chance work. Flying at this 
 height an aeroplane could perhaps hit Waterloo 
 Station or the Stock Exchange district, but it 
 could not with certainty locate, let us say, a 
 particular building like St. Paul's. 
 
 In addition to the height at which the machine
 
 54 AT THE WAR 
 
 must fly to avoid guns, there has to be a large allow- 
 ance made for windage, and also recognition of the 
 fact that the aeroplane itself is flying at from forty 
 to fifty miles an hour while it is dropping the bombs. 
 As a rule, the raids of bomb-droppers are now 
 undertaken by twenty to thirty machines, which fly 
 in the form of a wedge, with a leader in front. The 
 bomb-droppers are often protected by fighting 
 planes, though every bomb-dropper carries his own 
 machine-gun for self-defence. 
 
 Almost the most interesting utilization of the aero- 
 plane is for photographic scouting. I well remember 
 discussing the uses of the aeroplane with the brothers 
 Wright, when, in reply to the criticism of someone 
 present as to the danger of scouting by aeroplane, they 
 pointed out that, after all, one aeroplane would be 
 able to do more scouting than a whole squadron of 
 cavalry. Events have proved that they were more 
 than right, because the scouting aeroplane carries with 
 it not only human eyes but the eyes of a camera, 
 and in no department of war work has there been 
 greater progress during the last few months than in 
 photography by aeroplane. At the headquarters 
 of each army are large plans of the opposing enemy 
 trenches and also of suspected gun positions. These 
 are corrected at regular intervals, when the weather 
 is suitable, by photographs taken with telescopic 
 lenses, these photographs being speedily developed, 
 printed, enlarged, and used for bringing up to date 
 our knowledge of the enemy line. 
 
 To deceive the aeroplane observers each side 
 resorts to all kinds of tricks. There are dummy guns 
 that actually fire, and, of course, there are endless 
 ordinary dummy guns of wood. 
 
 A use to which the aeroplane has not yet been 
 effectively put is sea observation. The British Navy 
 has aeroplanes and seaplanes, and excellent ones 
 too all the navies of the world have aeroplanes
 
 AN INVENTOR WANTED 55 
 
 but these cannot leave, or return, to water in rough 
 weather. Experiments have been tried in the United 
 States, France, and England for starting aeroplanes 
 from ships. There is a fruitful field for the inventor 
 who can perfect this scheme, not on paper but in 
 practice. An aeroplane can fly in almost any weather. 
 A Zeppelin or other airship is at the mercy of the 
 wind. The man who perfects a means of releasing 
 an aeroplane from a battleship and providing for 
 its safe return in any weather in which ships can 
 fight will achieve a revolution in sea warfare as 
 important as the aeroplane has created in war on 
 land.
 
 SIR DOUGLAS HAIG
 
 SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 
 
 SOME IMPRESSIONS 
 
 WHEN history relates the story of the great battles 
 of the Somme, it will tell how Sir Douglas Haig and 
 his Staff had their Headquarters in a modest dwelling, 
 part of which was still occupied by the family who 
 owned it. 
 
 Thus it is that the voices of children running up 
 and down the corridors mingle with the ceaseless 
 murmur of the guns and the work of the earnest little 
 company of men whose labours are never out of the 
 thoughts of their countrymen throughout the Empire. 
 
 The head of this band of brothers, the Commander- 
 in-Chief of an Army ten times larger than that of the 
 great Duke, is Sir Douglas Haig, well known to his 
 troops from the base to the front, though hardly 
 known at all to the masses of his fellow-subjects at 
 home. 
 
 In these days of instant communication by tele- 
 phone, despatch rider, telegraph, or wireless, a greater 
 part of the life of the Commander-in-Chief is spent 
 at his Headquarter offices. In times of stress he 
 rarely moves from them. Outwardly the life of Sir 
 Douglas Haig might seem to be that of some great 
 Scotch laird who chooses to direct his estates himself. 
 
 At exactly five and twenty minutes past eight each 
 morning Sir Douglas joins his immediate Staff at 
 the usual informal breakfast of English life. Though 
 
 59 E 2
 
 60 AT THE WAR 
 
 he has selected his Staff, without fear or favour, from 
 the best elements of the British Armies that have 
 been tried for two years in the field, there is something 
 indefinably Scottish in the atmosphere of his table. 
 TheCpmmander-in-Chief is of an ancient Scottish family 
 born in the kingdom of Fife, so that the spear of our 
 British offensive is tipped with that which is considered 
 to be more adamant than the granite of Aberdeen. 
 Lithe and alert, Sir Douglas is known for his distin- 
 guished bearing and good looks. He has blue eyes and 
 an unusual facial angle, delicately-chiselled features, 
 and a chin to be reckoned with. There is a charac- 
 teristic movement of the hands when explaining things. 
 
 Sir Douglas does not waste words. It is not be- 
 cause he is silent or unsympathetic it is because he 
 uses words as he uses soldiers, sparingly, but always 
 with method. When he is interested in his subject, 
 as in talking of his gratitude to and admiration of 
 the new armies and their officers, or in testifying to 
 the stubborn bravery of the German machine-gunners, 
 it is not difficult to discern from his accent that he is 
 what is known North of the Tweed as a Fifer. A 
 Fifer is one of the many types that have helped 
 to build up the Empire, and is probably the best of 
 all for dealing with the Prussian. First of all in the 
 armoury of the Fifer is patience, then comes oblivion 
 to all external surroundings and pressure, with a 
 supreme concentration on the object to be attained. 
 Fifeshire is the home of the national game of Scotland ; 
 and it is the imperturbability of the Fifer that makes 
 him so difficult to beat in golf, in affairs, and in war. 
 Behind the dourness of the man of the East Coast is 
 the splendid enthusiasm that occasion sometimes 
 demands, though there is no undue depression or 
 elation at an unexpected bunker or an even unusually 
 fortunate round. 
 
 While I was with the little family party at Head- 
 quarters there came news that was good, and some
 
 SIR DOUGLAS DISLIKES SECRECY 61 
 
 that was not so good. Neither affected the Com- 
 mander-in-Chief s attitude towards the war, nor the 
 day's work, in the least degree whatever. There are 
 all sorts of minor criticisms of the Commander-in- 
 Chief at home, mainly because the majority of the 
 people know nothing about him. He is probably not 
 interested in home comments, but is concerned that 
 the Empire should know of the unprecedented valour 
 of his officers and men. Consequently the doings of 
 the Army are put before the world each day with the 
 frankness that is part of Sir Douglas Haig's own 
 character. He is opposed to secrecy except where 
 military necessity occasions it. He dislikes secret 
 reports on officers. Those who visit him are treated 
 with great candour, and there is always a suitable 
 selection of guests at Headquarters to bring variety 
 to the meal-times of men who are engaged in their 
 all-absorbing tasks. If they are interested in any 
 particular part of the organization, medical, trans- 
 port, artillery, strategy, they are invited to ask 
 questions and, if possible, to suggest. In many 
 large houses of business there is a suggestion-box in 
 which the staff or employees are invited to put for- 
 ward their ideas in writing. I do not know whether 
 there is such an institution in the Army, but certainly 
 all sorts of new ideas are discussed at the table at 
 General Headquarters. In every case " Can it be 
 done ? " takes precedence of " It can't be done." 
 
 Nor, despite the fact that the Commander-in-Chief 
 is a Cavalry officer, does he show any obsession with 
 the arm with which the greater part of his military 
 life has had to deal. Surrounded by a group of the 
 best experts our Empire can provide, most of whom 
 have had 24 months' war experience, he is in confer- 
 ence with them from morning till late at night. Dur- 
 ing his daily exercise ride he has one or other of his 
 staff experts with him. The wonderful system of 
 communication established throughout the length
 
 62 AT THE WAR 
 
 and breadth of his zone has linked up the whole 
 military machine so effectively that information can 
 be gained instantly from most distant and difficult 
 parts of his line of operations or communications. 
 In the ante-chambers of the Commander-in-Chief s 
 small working-room the telephone is rarely silent ; 
 and a journey into many parts of his Army proved 
 to me that out of the two years' struggle have emerged 
 men, and often very young men, able to do the Com- 
 mander-in-Chief s bidding or to furnish him with 
 what he desires. Out of the necessary chaos of a 
 war that was unexpected, save by the Army and a 
 few prescient students, have emerged Armies in which 
 Scottish precision and courage, English dash and 
 tenacity, Irish defiance and devotion, Australian and 
 Canadian fierce gallantry all play their proper parts. 
 Sir Douglas Haig is fifty-four years of age. Many of 
 his staff are greatly his junior. They are a grave 
 and serious body of men who have inspired confidence 
 from one end of the line to the other. They are not 
 dull, there is plenty of familiar badinage at the proper 
 time. There is deep devotion and loyalty in their 
 labours. 
 
 It is said that most of them have aged a little in 
 their ceaseless round of work and anxiety, but they 
 are all at a period of life when responsibility can best 
 be borne. " War," says Sir Douglas Haig, " is a 
 young man's game." He made that remark in regard 
 to General Trenchard's young airmen, of whom all 
 at the front are so proud. A soldier who had fought 
 in the first battle of Ypres spoke to me of the Com- 
 mander-in-Chief as follows : 
 
 It was just when the Germans had broken our 
 line and little parties of our men were retreating. 
 At that moment Sir Douglas Haig, then com- 
 manding the First Corps, came along the Menin 
 road with an escort of his own 17th Lancers, all
 
 "GOOD NIGHT' 63 
 
 as beautifully turned out as in peace time. They 
 approached slowly, and the effect upon our re- 
 treating men was instantaneous. As Sir Douglas 
 advanced they gathered and followed him. In 
 the event the Worcesters attacked Gheluvelt, 
 which had been taken by the enemy, drove them 
 out, and restored the line. The Commander- 
 in-Chief s presence was, and is, a talisman of 
 strength to his armies. 
 
 On the last night of my visit to this little company 
 I was walking with one of his circle in the gardens, 
 watching the flashing of the guns, which looked like 
 summer lightning flickering continuously. We had 
 been talking of many things other than war, though 
 the war was never out of our ears, for the throbbing 
 was perpetual. It was late, for the warm night was 
 a temptation to sauntering and exchange of views. 
 
 As we passed through the hall on our way upstairs 
 the door of the Commander-in-Chief's room was 
 open. We paused for a moment to watch him bending 
 over the map on which the whole world is gazing to- 
 day, the map which he is slowly and surely altering 
 for the benefit of civilization and the generations 
 unborn. He was about to begin his nightly vigil.
 
 JOFFRE
 
 JOFFRE 
 
 THE CREATOR OF THE FRENCH GENERAL STAFF 
 
 FROM the newspaper headlines to the Man, from 
 the hurrying tide of early morning clerkdom in the 
 London streets, to the good-byes of the morning 
 train to the front ; from the Red Cross stir of 
 busy Boulogne, now become our greatest hospital ; 
 past the cheery ranks of the newly-landed Territorial 
 battalion, singing their way up one of the rare hills of 
 old Flanders ; a rush along the long straight roads of 
 Picardy through villages packed with waiting Turcos, 
 Zouaves, Lancers, Artillery men, in French blue 
 or the new khaki, to the strange calm of the Grand 
 Quartier-Ge*neral of the French Army. 
 
 It is considered indiscreet to indicate the General 
 Headquarters of an army these days, though the 
 Germans always know their exact location, and we 
 know theirs. Suffice it to say that the General 
 Headquarters of the French Army are at a spot and 
 in a building well known to English people. There 
 are very few of us who have seen it in its present 
 astonishing quietude. 
 
 The pride and panoply of war have gone, even if 
 they ever existed. A visit to General Jonre, save for 
 the presence of one or two orderlies at the gate, is 
 just an ordinary visit at an ordinary hotel. P&re 
 Joffre, who has the destinies of France in his hands, 
 received me at the appointed hour to the minute, in
 
 68 AT THE WAR 
 
 a tiny room with a long narrow table covered with a 
 white felt top, a room probably sixteen feet long by 
 twelve wide, perfectly plain, and most likely one 
 of the servants' offices in the hotel days of the hotel 
 where his Headquarters are situated. 
 
 When I re-visited him the other day I found that 
 he had exchanged that very humble apartment for 
 one rather more suitable to the needs of a man 
 who has to receive commissions and deputations 
 as part of his daily routine. It is even yet a 
 simple milieu for the head of one of the mightiest 
 forces in the world. I emphasize this fact because 
 there appears to be some sort of curious, all-prevailing 
 belief in the public mind that army headquarters are 
 abodes of luxury. 
 
 The Generalissimo arrives at his bureau at 6.30 every 
 morning, and at 7 he has a conference with the six lead- 
 ing officials of the General Staff, or Grand Etat Major, 
 and his two aides, both generals, and three other 
 officers. At this conference all the reports and de- 
 spatches of the night are gone through and discussed, 
 and orders given for the day. Lunch is served always 
 at 11, and always consists of the same menu of eggs and 
 cutlets, after which, at 12 o'clock, there is another con- 
 ference. At 1 the General goes out till 4. He either 
 walks or drives, generally in the adjacent woods. At 
 8.30 there is the third conference, attended by the same 
 people, and at 9 punctually, no matter what happens, 
 the General goes to bed. The rest of the day he stays 
 in his room poring over the maps. He remains all 
 the time at his Headquarters, save once a week, 
 when he goes to the front to inspect the troops or to 
 see generals. A very efficient telephone service 
 renders more frequent departure from Headquarters 
 unnecessary. 
 
 His methods are well illustrated by his procedure 
 at the Battle of the Marne. All the orders written 
 by himself were already drawn up on August 27 for
 
 JOFFRE DESCRIBED 69 
 
 the action which began on September 5. He pondered 
 them all out, and then pieced the whole battle 
 together bit by bit, like a delicate piece of mechanism 
 which, when the time came, ran like clockwork. 
 
 His great work in the French Army was the organi- 
 zation of the General Staff when he became Comman- 
 dant-en-Chef in July, 1911. To this is due the success 
 of the French armies against the Germans, for the 
 staffs were composed of men who had worked together 
 for three years and are employed now over country 
 which they know. 
 
 Joffre wears a pale blue vareuse or tunic, of very 
 ample proportions, no decorations, save three gold 
 stars on his arm and on the cuffs, and the red trousers 
 with the black stripe. 
 
 As that great, grey head rose from the writing table 
 the impression of the man upon me was that of 
 massiveness. Uniform caps of whatever nationality 
 have the effect of making men look more or less alike. 
 The great head of Joffre, the iron chin, the kind, 
 rather sad eyes, are quite unlike the photographs and 
 equally unlike our stupid notion of what we call " the 
 average Frenchman." Pere Joffre is from Rivesaltes, 
 in the Pyrenees- Orientales, and he speaks slowly, and 
 with no more gesture than a Scotsman, in the rich 
 accent of the Midi. 
 
 Joffre has emerged as one of the great personalities 
 of the war. Every German prisoner captured knows 
 the name and fame of " Shoffer." Frequently in the 
 little messages that the Germans shoot with bows and 
 arrows into the French lines is the remark, " Ask 
 your General Joffre why he is letting you Frenchmen 
 get killed for the sake of the English." There is an 
 idea always floating in the German mind, from the 
 highest quarters in the Wilhelmstrasse to the trenches 
 in the Woevre, that Germany will be able to effect a 
 separate peace with France. Should there exist in 
 that deluded nation of 70 millions any single indi-
 
 70 AT THE WAR 
 
 vidual with a knowledge of French psychology, a 
 glance at Joffre should be sufficient to teach him 
 otherwise. 
 
 Often in years back, discussing the war that was to 
 be, we had whispered, " Yes, but will the French 
 produce a man ? " One basic fact in this matter is 
 that the French have thrown up not one man but 
 
 several. 
 
 ***** 
 
 " How is he bearing the war ? " people asked me in 
 Paris. I can truly say that General Joffre in the heat 
 of the Battle of Verdun looks strong, well, and cheerful. 
 On my previous visit I thought he was showing signs 
 of war fatigue. To-day, in the midst of the colossal 
 series of battles that has lasted for months, the head of 
 the wonderful French war machine has the healthy 
 look of a country squire in those good old days, two 
 years ago, when men rode to hounds a couple of days 
 a week.
 
 CADORNA
 
 CADORNA 
 
 HUMOROUS, ADAMANT AND SUBTLE 
 
 A SHORT, lithe, quick-moving man of sixty-six, 
 General Cadorna is the most humorous of all the 
 generals in the Great War. He has a glitter in his 
 grey eyes that reminded me of those of the late 
 Pierpont Morgan. The resemblance applies also to 
 the character of the two men, for Mr. Morgan was 
 ruthless and kind, and adamant, too, when necessary. 
 Those are the characteristics of Italy's great general, 
 liked, feared, and respected by every Italian soldier 
 or civilian with whom I conversed. 
 
 The Italian and British armies have reached their 
 perfection along very similar roads, but the diffi- 
 culties of the Italians were greater than ours. We 
 were unprepared, but united ; Italy was unprepared 
 and distracted by faction. 
 
 Among those who accomplished what looked like 
 the impossible a quickly improvised defence of Italy 
 against her time-honoured enemy, Austria Luigi 
 Cadorna must be given first place. With his must be 
 coupled the name of his King, for the King of Italy is 
 not only nominally but really the head of the Italian 
 Army, and Cadorna is his Chief of Staff. The Italian 
 monarch is so modest and self-effacing that he is com- 
 paratively little known to his own people, though well 
 understood by his soldiers, who see him continually. 
 
 He and Cadorna share an advantage not given to 
 most of us in Great Britain. They have been close
 
 74 AT THE WAR 
 
 to the enemy so long that they understand the enemy 
 psychology. It surprised the rest of the world that 
 the taking of Gorizia should be followed by an attempt 
 to bomb St. Mark's at Venice. It surprised us that 
 the Germans should essay to offset the defeat of the 
 Marne by the destruction of the cathedral at Reims. 
 These things do not astonish the Italians and the 
 French ; indeed, they expect them. 
 
 As one travels about the world and encounters the 
 busiest people in it, they all seem to share the same 
 characteristic. They all so economize their time that 
 they have moments for cigars and discourse. That 
 was so with Mr. Morgan. (And the blackness of those 
 cigars 1 ) That is so with Count Cadorna. He gave 
 me an hour and a half one day, in which he did all the 
 interviewing, and a very merry luncheon on another 
 day at which he kept his table amused all the time. 
 
 His quarters are at Udine, at about the usual 
 distance of most headquarters from the firing line, to 
 which the great captain pays visits long before most 
 of us are awake. 
 
 He is a general who believes in seeing for himself. 
 He took personal part in the direction of the final 
 battle for Gorizia, climbing the ghastly hill of Podgora 
 with the vigour of an Alpini. He is a close student of 
 war, and he has all the subtlety of the Italian. In the 
 long story of the last two years he is almost the only 
 general who devised a surprise, described elsewhere 
 in this book. 
 
 Nearly all the men at the extreme top of the war 
 know something about the whole war. That is not 
 the case with the minor personalities, even in the 
 Higher Command. Many generals, in surveying their 
 own small piece of the front, think the whole war is 
 there, and judge its success or duration by their own 
 little piece of landscape. It is they who, when on 
 leave, tell us cheerfully that the war is nearly over, 
 or gloomily that the Boche line is impenetrable. Their
 
 LEARNING SOLDIERING AT TEN 75 
 
 words are whispered far and wide, and are part of the 
 cause of the rumours and counter rumours of the clubs 
 and dinner tables. 
 
 Cadorna knows the size of the war as accurately as 
 Joffre or Haig. He knows about things with which 
 the average soldier does not concern himself, such as 
 the effect of German propaganda in the United States 
 and the value of a counter effort over there that could 
 be put forth by the Italians resident in that country. 
 He knows that the Battle of the Somme is part of 
 the Battle of the Carso. He is a statesman, too, as 
 well as a soldier, and like all Italians, happy to be in 
 alliance with us. His communiques are meticulously 
 accurate. 
 
 It seems strange to us that a boy should begin to 
 learn soldiering at ten, but that is what Cadorna did, 
 for in 1860 he went to the Military School at Milan, 
 where he was sent by his distinguished parents, Count 
 Raffaele Cadorna, who had married Countess Clemen- 
 tina Zoppi names of note in Italian history. 
 
 At fifteen he proceeded to the Military Academy at 
 Turin. At the age of forty-two he had attained the 
 rank of colonel in command of the 10th Bersaglieri. 
 For some years afterwards he was engaged on his 
 famous " Manual of Tactics," which has been reprinted 
 again and again during the war, with very little altera- 
 tion from the original edition. 
 
 Cadorna sets his face against personal or family 
 favouritism. It is in the blood. In 1870 he had 
 become his father's A.D.C., but as soon as there was 
 active work to do, he was given the command of the 
 troops which entered Rome in the War of Liberation, 
 the older Cadorna dispensed with his son's services. 
 Last year the present General Cadorna had his son 
 Raffaele as one of his A.D.C.'s, and following the 
 family example, he sent the boy back to his regiment 
 directly Italy entered the lists. 
 
 With His Excellency General Cadorna (to give 
 
 F 2
 
 76 AT THE WAR 
 
 him his Italian prefix) is General Porro, and along 
 the whole of the Italian front are generals who have 
 arrived at their position by the ruthless process of 
 elimination necessary to success in war. Some of the 
 earlier generals made mistakes and are gone, as with 
 our army. War is just what it always was, and 
 victory is for those who make the fewest mistakes. 
 
 One conviction one had in bidding farewell to that 
 determined-looking Italian, Luigi Cadorna, was that 
 though genial and full of amusing anecdote, he will not 
 suffer fools gladly. His telegrams of praise and repri- 
 mand, some of which I saw on my visits to the various 
 fronts, were models of terseness, written frankly, 
 almost brutally indeed as a soldier should.
 
 UNDER THE SIX STARS
 
 UNDER THE SIX STARS 
 
 A VISIT TO GENERAL BIRDWOOD l 
 
 SOMEWHERE IN FRANCE 
 
 THE high hopes of the Australasian peoples are 
 centred round a bare room in one of the numberless 
 French chateaux where, nowadays, the air vibrates 
 with the throbbing of the guns. In that small room, 
 the furniture principally consisting of the simplest 
 possible bed, a telephone, and a map marked with 
 the latest moves on the battle line, is General Bird- 
 wood, the idol of the Anzacs. 
 
 An officer from Victoria received me at the gate 
 of the chateau, where stood on guard two Australian 
 
 iants having before them a fluttering flag of the 
 ix Stars. It was a muggy morning, reminding 
 the officer of October in his own country in the late 
 shearing time. We passed through one of the halls 
 of the chateau where numbers of the clerical staff 
 were busy at typewriting and telephones, and then 
 upstairs to the General's room. 
 
 General Bird wood stands 5ft. 9in., has not an 
 ounce of spare fat on him, and is a man in hard 
 training. He has a strong but gentle voice, firm 
 mouth with a slight moustache, deep-set pale blue 
 eyes, and a cropped head. He looks a fighter every 
 inch of him. He is fifty years of age, and has been 
 engaged directly or indirectly in the business of war 
 during most of his adult life. He eats and drinks 
 
 1 The following cable despatch was written by request for the 
 Sydney Sun and other leading Australasian journals.
 
 80 AT THE WAR 
 
 little, is up and away at daylight in winter and before 
 six in summer. He pushes his Headquarters as near 
 the front as possible, knows many of his " boys," 
 as he calls them, who fought with him in the Gallipoli 
 Peninsula, by their Christian names, and they believe 
 in him as implicitly as he believes in them. 
 
 Birdwood, erect in pale khaki coat with some four 
 rows of well-earned ribbons, cord riding-breeches 
 and riding-boots, is not a man to lose a moment of 
 time. He was just off to meet the boys back for 
 rest from Pozieres. They were camping in some 
 woods to which we drove in his open car, which 
 flies the Australian flag. Some of them had already 
 arrived. The sun, which had been absent for some 
 days, came out at this moment, and never do I 
 remember seeing a more delightful sylvan scene 
 than that presented by these battle- worn but merry 
 soldiers with their booty of German helmets and 
 caps, German drums, and German field-glasses, riding 
 and walking up to their huts and tents. Some had 
 already arrived and were boiling their tea, making 
 dampers, cooking beef in the cookers they extem- 
 porized from kerosene tins, and eating keenly and 
 heartily after their long, long vigil in the heavily- 
 shelled trenches. 
 
 As the General stepped out of his car he was in- 
 stantly recognized by his men, most of them from 
 New South Wales, who had been engaged in what 
 was probably their hardest fight since Gallipoli. 
 They had dug themselves in deeply the other side 
 of Pozieres, and had not left their trenches for days. 
 14 My boys are good diggers," remarked the General. 
 " They dig deep and quickly, and their trenches 
 are so clean that you could eat off them at dinner 
 time." He addressed his soldiers simply and truly, 
 and drew, first from one and then from another, stories 
 of the fierce fighting they had just experienced. 
 Some were so tired that we had passed them asleep
 
 AUSTRALIAN DISCIPLINE 81 
 
 just as they had arrived, others were full of life 
 and gaiety, and as Captain MacKenzie, of the Sal- 
 vation Army, known throughout the peninsula and 
 in France as " Mac," said, many were already anxious 
 to get back to the firing line and show the Germans 
 that if they were looking for more trouble they could 
 get it. 
 
 I regarded with interest these already hardened 
 warriors for whom death, wounds, and the German 
 guns held no fear. A good deal has been said of 
 Australian discipline. English Australians who were 
 among them told me that when it comes to fighting, 
 their discipline is as rigid as the most adamant 
 commander could wish. They obey their officers 
 implicitly from the moment serious business begins, 
 and their relations with the Imperial officers are 
 perfect. The fact that the young English schoolboys 
 and slightly older lads who man the aeroplanes 
 have driven the spying German aeroplanes from the 
 sky greatly rejoices them. 
 
 Their long experiences in the trenches in Gallipoli 
 have made them the excellent trench fighters that 
 they are. 
 
 I accompanied Birdwood and his Staff from one 
 portion to another of the scattered forest scene. 
 In some of the huts all the men were asleep, and 
 Birdwood would on no account allow them to be 
 disturbed, but in others they were merry with mouth- 
 organs, flutes, and a captured drum. The General 
 peered in, but would not allow them to desist. Here 
 and there they temporarily formed into line and 
 saluted him as he approached. He had a simple 
 speech for every group, always to the same effect. 
 " You have suffered, but you have done splendidly. 
 Are you ready for more when the time comes ? " 
 and there always came a great shout of " Yes." 
 Many were the stories told. One of how a mere 
 lad, for some of them are extremely young, chased
 
 82 AT THE WAR 
 
 a huge German out into the open, and finally settled 
 the terrified Hun after a hand-to-hand bomb duel. 
 Another of how a Hun machine-gunner fired at the 
 Anzacs until he had used the whole of his cartridge 
 belt, when the German threw his arms round 
 the nearest Australian and called out, " Pardon, 
 Kamerad." 
 
 All the time we were talking the " crumping " 
 and booming of great guns was a reminder of our 
 proximity to the terrific struggle waging at the 
 moment. The men came into the wood in a constant 
 stream. Having seen their General they at once 
 went to wash and eat or sleep. Bird wood had 
 always one piece of parting advice to the boys. 
 " Write home. Let your mothers know where you 
 are, what you are doing, and how you are, for if 
 you don't write to her she will write to me. I get 
 dozens of letters by every mail asking for one or 
 other of you." 
 
 Once, while we were in the forest, attention was 
 riveted on an air fight of which we could see nothing 
 by reason of the leaves. The sharp rattle of the 
 machine-guns high in the sky told of a prolonged 
 fight whose end we afterwards were informed was 
 not satisfactory to the Germans. It must have 
 been a rare spectacle, for a Hun is not often seen to 
 cross our lines these days. 
 
 I left this forest scene with regret, but there was 
 much to do that day. Something was in preparation. 
 General Birdwood had work to attend to. He took 
 me with him in his car, and we passed more and 
 more of the Anzacs on their way in from the battle. 
 Some were asleep on the top of the highly packed 
 general service transport wagons. Those in German 
 helmets were singing, all smiled affectionately as 
 they saw their General, and saluted by a quick eyes 
 right or the raising of the hand to the hat. Mounted 
 men dropped their right hand sharply to the side.
 
 "FILLING UP NICELY' 83 
 
 It was a long and interesting cavalcade on its way 
 home from the battle. The dust, as one of them 
 remarked, made him fairly homesick. All were in 
 good spirits, and in spite of heavy losses they had 
 done well, and their General had come to meet and 
 to greet them. 
 
 Passing through one ruined town and village 
 after another we came to a divisional headquarters 
 where, in a small house, some new movement to which 
 the General had to attend was being arranged for, 
 and he entered a two-storey ruined building, a mass 
 of telephone wires pouring in at the windows from 
 every corner, and inside the busy click of typewriters 
 and the voices of men working in the heat in their 
 shirt sleeves. Hard by a great shell fell wounding 
 several men and cruelly mutilating a young English 
 officer, whom, in the evening, I saw being wheeled 
 out of the operating theatre at a neighbouring 
 hospital. 
 
 General Birdwood is one of those soldiers who 
 thinks it his duty to be in the firing line wherever 
 possible, but his officers don't agree with him. Two 
 years of acquaintanceship have endeared him so 
 to them that they feel they would be lost without 
 him. He has often been far too close to Death 
 for their happiness, and they urged him not to 
 go any farther, but to take me to the nearest field 
 ambulance, which was No. 2 Australian. Cheerily, 
 a slightly wounded Australian at the gate, in reply 
 to a question from Birdwood as to how the hospital 
 was getting on, replied, " Oh, we are filling up nicely, 
 General." The ambulances arrived at the gate, 
 and stretchers were carried in in less time than it 
 takes to write it. The men were classified, fed, and 
 those who were fit had anti -tetanus serum injected. 
 The serum was administered with great care and 
 speed, and the letter " T ' was marked on each 
 forehead in indelible pencil. Arrangements were
 
 84 AT THE WAR 
 
 being made to convey such as were well enough to 
 the Casualty Clearing Station, whence they will go 
 to one of the beautiful base hospitals, probably 
 looking over the Atlantic, that are the pride of the 
 Empire. 
 
 We went thence to the 1st Australian Field 
 Ambulance. Sir Anthony Bowlby, the distin- 
 guished surgeon, was just making his inspection, 
 and I passed the time talking with the wounded 
 lads. Some were sleeping, others in pain, but in 
 general they were ready for a joke, and a talk, and 
 a cigarette. " How do you like France ? " I asked 
 a young Victorian. " I like it fine," he replied. 
 " They can teach us something in farming," and 
 another one said, " Not an inch of land wasted. They 
 work on the land rain or shine." " Girls are all 
 right, too," put in a young giant from Bathurst. 
 " Yes, I should like to take a couple of them back," 
 chipped in a wounded Adelaider. I was duly shocked, 
 but the compliment to France was sincere. 
 
 All expressed admiration for the French, just 
 as the French love the British for their kindness 
 to the French children. Gallipoli, which all of 
 them, Birdwood included, pronounce " Gallipli," 
 afforded no rest. Here when they are not actually 
 fighting they have delightful resting camps with 
 well-fitted canteens. 
 
 I asked the General where these men were drawn 
 from. They are of all types clerks, blacksmiths, 
 men from stations and farms. Many of the officers 
 are of the same class. They understand and obey 
 each other implicitly. They have exactly the same 
 rations as the British soldiers, and draw only a portion 
 of their handsome pay. " We have had no lunch," 
 said one of the Staff officers at this point. " Birdwood 
 eats nothing, and expects us to do likewise." 
 
 We drove away from the wounded lads along 
 the encumbered roads, past miles and miles of
 
 TEA 85 
 
 wagons with the emblem of the Australian rising 
 sun and the New Zealand fern, and back to the 
 chateau. I learnt during the ride something new 
 from General Birdwood of Australasia's generosity 
 to its Forces, of the promptness of the Australian 
 Government in responding to his request, of the 
 great help of the Australian Red Cross. These fine 
 soldiers are making Australian history. They are 
 building up the traditions of Australia's future armies. 
 There is hardly one of them who has not patriotism 
 burnt into his soul and burnt into his body. Many 
 Australian soldiers have tattooed on their arms the 
 Australian, French, and British flags with the words 
 44 1915 Gallipoli " underneath. 
 
 After a long drive through the dust I shared 
 a simple meal, at which tea (the national drink of 
 " Down Under ") duly predominated, with the alert 
 and agile Chief and his Staff, and as I drove 
 away many miles along the lines, I could not 
 but marvel at the turn in world conditions that 
 had brought these young giants from the farthest 
 corner of the earth to shed their blood on behalf 
 of the Powers so gallantly fighting for the greatest 
 cause in the world, the cause of freedom as opposed 
 to tyranny.
 
 THE WAR DOCTORS
 
 THEIR WORK UNDER FIRE 
 
 AMONG the first forces mobilized by the Germans 
 at the end of July, 1914, were the kinematographers 
 and the artists. The German Empire has therefore 
 a complete pictorial record of the war from its earliest 
 days. We have lately begun to use the kinemato- 
 graph. But we have not yet begun to enshrine by 
 colour and canvas the lives of our men, and when we 
 do send out a dozen of our best painters the War 
 Doctor must be among the first to be made known 
 and perpetuated. 
 
 We are so accustomed to consider doctors as part 
 of our daily lives, or as workers in speckless and 
 palatial hospitals, that we have hardly yet visualized 
 the man who shares the hell of the front trench with 
 the fighters, armed only with two panniers of urgent 
 drugs, instruments, and field dressings, his acetylene 
 lamp and electric torch. Most of us think of his 
 war work as being accomplished at one of the great 
 healing places at the base. 
 
 If there be degrees of chivalry, the highest award 
 should be accorded to the medical profession, which 
 at once forsook its lucrative practices in London, 
 or Melbourne, or Montreal, in a great rally of sell- 
 sacrifice. The figures of the casualties among them 
 bring home to those who have only the big hospital 
 idea of the war doctor, sad facts that should lead 
 
 to due understanding of this not sufficiently 
 
 89 G
 
 90 AT THE WAR 
 
 known but veritable body of Knights in the Great 
 Crusade. For the last three months 1 in the Royal 
 Army Medical Corps alone, I account them according 
 to the figures published in The Times from day to 
 day : 
 
 Officers Killed 53 
 
 Wounded 208 
 
 ,, Missing . . . . . . 4 
 
 N.C.O.'s and Men (R.A.M.C. only) : 
 
 Killed 260 
 
 Wounded 1,212 
 
 Missing . . . . . . . . 3 
 
 I propose to set down the order in which our medical 
 service arranges its chain of responsibility, premising 
 my account by the statement that the medical army 
 of to-day exceeds numerically the whole British 
 military forces overseas before the outbreak of war. 
 
 It is a little difficult and complex to explain. I 
 find that there is some confusion in the public mind 
 as to the regimental work, that of the Royal Army 
 Medical Corps, and their handmaidens the British 
 Red Cross Society and Order of St. John. But there 
 is no confusion or overlapping in the zone of hos- 
 tilities. 
 
 In the preparations for the great Battle of the 
 Somme, Sir Douglas Haig, thorough in this as in 
 every other detail, himself co-operated with the 
 medical services in arranging his regimental aid 
 posts, his casualty clearing stations, and the rest 
 of them as systematically as his batteries, his ammu- 
 nition " dumps," and his reserves. 
 
 First in the order of danger is the Regimental 
 Aid Post, where the regimental doctor, with his 
 stretcher-bearers, awaits, alongside the men who 
 are to clamber " over the top," the bloody fruits 
 of battle. In the early days of the war, before 
 l l wrote this in September, 1916.
 
 CURING PRUSSIANISM 91 
 
 we had discovered the secret, or had the means, 
 to blast our road into Germany by ceaseless shells, 
 the Regimental Aid Post was, as a rule, in some 
 deserted farmhouse as near to the front trench as 
 possible. To-day, as we advance, our guns leave 
 nothing standing, so that what was once perhaps 
 a chateau is now only a stretch of rubble. There 
 is therefore but little available cover for the doctors 
 or the others before " consolidation." 
 
 The intensity of the French and German artillery 
 at Verdun in March seemed to me then the limit 
 of human capacity to produce noise and destruction. 
 But the Somme bombardment actually furrows or 
 flattens all before it. Verdun itself could not exist 
 a week if exposed to the present French and 
 British cannonade. Its volume of sound is so 
 great that at times the very earth shakes beneath 
 one's feet. 
 
 The doctor has to-day probably only the shelter 
 of one of our own trenches or any little part that 
 may remain of a captured German trench. There 
 is no other covering for him and his brave stretcher- 
 bearers, who are at once his nurses and his orderlies. 
 Happily not so many of these are fired upon by the 
 enemy as heretofore ; for, as the Prussians have 
 realized that our artillery is the most deadly thing 
 in the history of war, they have become a good deal 
 more reasonable and human. Now that their own 
 wounded greatly outnumber ours on almost every 
 occasion, their doctors and stretcher-bearers often 
 advance with a sheet or towel held high on a rifle 
 as a flag of truce in order that they may collect 
 their wounded and we ours. In the early days of 
 the war similar suggestions on our part were haughtily 
 and contemptuously refused. And so the advanced 
 medical forces on both sides are at last sparing the 
 wounded a good deal of the drawn-out horrors of 
 " No Man's Land." 
 
 G 2
 
 92 AT THE WAR 
 
 The fine young men with the English, Scotch, 
 Irish, Canadian, and Australian accents who stand 
 unarmed in these Regimental Aid Posts work with 
 an intensity and celerity which eclipse even that 
 of the surgeons in London's operating theatres. 
 
 The stretcher-bearers stagger in with their load. 
 There is a lightning diagnosis, an antiseptic applica- 
 tion, bandaging, a hastily-written label tied to the 
 man's breast, and the wounded one is borne off and 
 away in the open to the next stage, the Advanced 
 Dressing Station, which is as often as not also pushed 
 right up into the fire zone. The regimental stretcher- 
 bearers therefore begin again another dangerous 
 pilgrimage rearwards. 
 
 As there is much ignorance in the public mind 
 on the subject of casualties, it should be well realized 
 that by far the greater proportion of our wounded 
 are slightly hit, and are " walking cases," so little 
 hurt that in innumerable instances where the stretcher- 
 bearers themselves have fallen they have been carried 
 by the slightly wounded soldiers. 
 
 I know no more moving experience than an 
 afternoon in an advanced dressing station. Let 
 me describe that of West Peronne. Its location is 
 changed now, so I am giving the enemy no infor- 
 mation. We reached it on a heavy and sultry 
 Sunday afternoon by hiding ourselves behind anything 
 possible. Dust and smoke gave the atmosphere 
 of a coming thunder-storm, the thudding of the guns 
 on both sides was incessant. Now and then was 
 heard the brisk note of a machine-gun, which sounds 
 for all the world like a boy rasping a stick along 
 palings or the rattle which policemen carried in 
 Mid- Victorian days. 
 
 There was no sign of anything in the nature of 
 a hospital, a tent, or of anything above ground. I 
 was getting somewhat weary of being told to lie 
 down flat every few seconds to avoid bursting shells,
 
 UNDERGROUND AND DARK 93 
 
 when I saw a couple of stretcher-bearers coming 
 through the haze as from nowhere and then disappear 
 underground. "It is underneath there," I was told 
 by my guide, whose daily duty it was to inspect 
 these medical outposts. 
 
 As quickly as possible we got down into a trench 
 and followed the stretcher-bearers. There, in darkness 
 lit by a few candles, we gradually made out a very 
 grim scene. Talking was difficult, for one of our 
 batteries had just come into action a few yards 
 away. 
 
 Owing to the heavy enemy shell fire, what I soon 
 found to be an underground maze a plan of which 
 appears on next page had become completely blocked 
 with wounded men lying in the dark on their stretchers, 
 the passage ways dug out of the clayish earth being 
 just the width of a stretcher handle and no more. 
 We trod gently from stretcher handle to stretcher 
 handle over the silent men, some of them asleep 
 with the blessed morphia in their brains, others 
 cheerily smiling, others staring as wounded men 
 do. All who could move a hand had a cigarette 
 now admitted to be the first need of all but the 
 very dangerously wounded. 
 
 Passing on, and using our electric torch as little 
 as possible, so as not to disturb the sleepers, we 
 came to the main dressing room. Remember it 
 was all underground, all dark, and that the oncoming 
 wail of approaching shells, with immediate subsequent 
 explosions, was continuous. 
 
 In this main dressing room the doctors, all young 
 men, some of them subalterns of the R.A.M.C., 
 were washing and bandaging with the care and 
 speed that can be seen in the Somme film. I counted 
 twenty-four patients in that small chamber. We 
 crept onward and came to another room where 
 there were nine cases, and again to a smaller one 
 where lay the more dangerously wounded.
 
 94 
 
 AT THE WAR 
 
 These dressing rooms were protected by some four 
 or five feet of earth above them. There was a 
 
 t 
 
 small officers' mess and a medical storeroom, which 
 were merely shielded by corrugated iron from shrapnel
 
 THE INEQUALITIES OF WAR WORK 95 
 
 splinters, a kitchen, an office, and that was about 
 all. An operation for tracheotomy was taking place 
 in one of the dressing rooms. 
 
 In all my many experiences abroad I have never 
 seen a more touching sight than this little under- 
 ground gathering of some seventy men, devoted 
 doctors and assistants, waiting amidst the incessant 
 shelling until the overcrowded maze could be evacu- 
 ated. Let those who take their ease on a Sunday 
 afternoon, or any other afternoon, realize that this 
 same scene never ceases. Let those who consider that 
 they are amply doing their " bit " by keeping things 
 going at home be grateful that their " bit " is not 
 as that of these young men. We cannot all of us share 
 the danger, but we can every one of us admit the 
 harsh inequalities of our respective war work. 
 
 One or two of the patients were shell-shock victims, 
 and it was piteous to note their tremor at the ap- 
 proaching shell wails and subsequent thuds just 
 outside our little catacomb. 
 
 The plan on the opposite page gives a suggestion of 
 the ingenuity with which the R.A.M.C. officers have 
 converted a bit of an old German trench-work to the 
 purposes of an underground hospital and home for the 
 doctors and their assistants. 
 
 The shelling increased in intensity. It became 
 obvious that we had to remain concealed till the 
 storm had ceased. In the interval we discussed 
 things about wounded men. We learned that quite 
 a considerable proportion of them had dressed their 
 own wounds with the little first field dressing that 
 is sewn into the tunic of every soldier. Others had 
 got along well enough with the medical help of 
 regimental stretcher-bearers. The rest had been tended 
 
 at the Regimental Aid Posts to which I have referred. 
 ***** 
 
 Presently the Germans diverted the attention 
 of their gunners to another point of the line, and
 
 96 AT THE WAR 
 
 we were able to emerge into daylight once more and 
 join a small company of lightly wounded and stretcher- 
 bearers on their way to a Walking Wounded Collecting 
 Station. I name all these distinct stages in the 
 progress of the wounded man in order to show how 
 carefully the system has been thought out and organ- 
 ized. It is a tribute to the foresight of our medical 
 authorities that all this vast scheme had been arranged 
 before the war. 
 
 On our way rearwards to the Walking Wounded 
 Collecting Station we were passed by some horse- 
 ambulances which, summoned by telephone, were 
 proceeding to the underground hospital we had 
 just left. On our way we escaped the only enemy 
 aeroplane attack that came to my notice during this 
 visit to the front. An officer and a few men were 
 wounded. It speaks eloquently for the celerity with 
 which our casualties are cleared when I tell you 
 that on that same evening, many miles away in 
 the rear, I saw this particular wounded officer sitting 
 in bed nonchalantly enjoying his dinner. By the 
 next day, I was told, he would probably be in Eng- 
 land. 
 
 The Walking Wounded Collecting Station con- 
 sisted of marquees in which a considerable number 
 of Tommies of all dialects were partaking of a hearty 
 meal. As each arrived his name and regimental 
 number were entered, with particulars of his case. 
 Where necessary his dressings were re-arranged, and 
 in every case a cigarette was offered. Prodigious 
 quantities of tea, cocoa, soup, bread, butter and 
 jam were disappearing. Despite the bandaged heads 
 and arms of some and the limping of others, they 
 were a merry, if tired, party. Eagerly and in 
 vigorous and unprintable Anglo-Saxon one of them 
 
 said : " I want to have another smack at the 
 
 Allemans." In a tent was a wounded officer, famous 
 in the world of big game (scarred as the result of a
 
 A FIELD OPERATING THEATRE 97 
 
 miraculous escape from an African elephant), who, 
 though covered with blood, had only one anxiety, 
 and that was to have his wound dressed, get a bath, 
 and return to his men in time for the next " stunt " 
 to use an abominable Americanism which has grown 
 weed-like into our war language. Two days before, 
 this Walking Wounded Collecting Station had been 
 shelled by the enemy. By a strange stroke of fortune 
 the only victims were a large number of German 
 prisoners. 
 
 Life is held gaily and cheaply in these advanced 
 hospitals. There was a small underground chamber 
 here fitted with bunks as on shipboard, in which 
 the officers could sleep if they chose, but they did 
 not seem to be particular whether they used it or 
 
 not. 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 We shared the soldiers' meals, listened to their 
 stories each one of them a full adventure, in peace 
 time and continued base wards, accompanied by 
 motor ambulances in which sitting cases were carried, 
 to a great Corps Collecting Station, a veritable 
 Clapham Junction of the evacuating system. 
 
 To prevent mistakes, each man's label is checked 
 at every point he arrives at with as much care as 
 a registered letter on its way through the post. 
 There is no Red Tape, and nothing is left to chance. 
 There is no lost time. It is never forgotten that 
 pain is ever present and that saving time may mean 
 saving life. But even though we have not yet 
 come to that link in the chain the hospital which 
 is kept neat and burnished by the hand of woman 
 all is well arranged and spotlessly clean. Many 
 dressings were being re-examined and many wounds 
 again attended to. 
 
 Here I saw the field operating theatre nearest 
 to the battle. It was in a spotless tent with a table, 
 a powerful acetylene lamp, chloroform, and instru-
 
 98 AT THE WAR 
 
 ments all ready. Operations in the field are a 
 rare exception in the British Army. The matter 
 of their necessity has been discussed and re-discussed. 
 There are arguments for and against. But Sir 
 Arthur Sloggett, General Macpherson, and the famous 
 surgeons we have at the front, with Sir Alfred Keogh 
 at home, may be relied upon to know their business 
 to the tips of their fingers. In other armies, notably 
 the Italian, urgent operations take place in what 
 answer to our Advanced Dressing Stations. An 
 Italian officer said to me : " We should not do it 
 unless we had to. Many of our cases would not 
 
 stand transport from our Alpine heights." 
 ***** 
 
 Resuming our journey with the ambulances, we 
 came, after an hour's halting journey through the 
 dust and the A.S.C. convoys to a Casualty Clearing 
 Station the first hospital of a kind visualized by 
 the general public. 
 
 I have discovered from their conversation that 
 very few people realize the intricate nature of the 
 net spread by the R.A.M.C. over the field of war. 
 The meshes are many but not too many. An 
 important part of the net are these very perfect 
 clearing establishments. The description of two will 
 be sufficient. 
 
 One of these Clearing Stations was a large old 
 water-mill which had been transformed into a most 
 beautiful hospital. I reached it in time to witness 
 the arrival of the ambulances. Out of them came 
 all manner of wounded, British and German. Friend 
 and foe were treated alike. They were just wounded 
 men that was all. Such as could walk by themselves 
 or with the help of orderlies, came out dazed into 
 the sunlight from the ambulances. The Germans, 
 who had for days been trench-bound by our barrage, 
 were, as a rule, horribly dirty and impossible to 
 approach for physical reasons. Later, at another
 
 TALKS WITH THE ENEMY 99 
 
 hospital I saw gently-born V.A.D. nurses washing 
 great unbathed wounded Prussians and Bavarians. 
 I felt positively guilty when I thought of the chaff 
 with which the V.A.D. movement, its uniforms and 
 salutings, was received ten years ago in the bad 
 old days when we ought to have been preparing 
 for war. 
 
 Here, in this mill Casualty Clearing Station, the 
 broken soldiers came for the first time under the 
 influence and gentle touch and consoling smile of 
 women nurses. Many of the men had been in and 
 about the firing line for weeks, several of the Germans 
 for longer than that. I talked with some of the enemy 
 who had arrived a day or two before in what must 
 have seemed a fairy palace. Some spoke of the 
 care, kindness, good food, flowers, and music (the 
 gramophone never stops) which were provided. As 
 a rule they are grateful at any rate at first. 
 Some are very grateful. One officer used the word 
 " lovingly " (liebvoll), and " lovingly " it must seem, 
 for nothing is more marked in inspecting German 
 hospitals, even such an establishment as the Rudolf 
 Virchow Hospital in Berlin, than to notice the 
 roughness of the surgery, the callousness shown in 
 making remarks before patients, and the inferiority 
 of the under- trained nurses. 
 
 Some are not grateful and, like the pampered 
 civilians at the Alexandra Palace, think it necessary 
 to place on record complaints based on mere hostility. 
 
 This Casualty Clearing Station, placid with its 
 river, with its sunny gardens into which many 
 beds had been carried so that the wounded might 
 enjoy the birds, the flowers, and trees seems like 
 an oasis after the grim desolation of the wilderness 
 of the Somme heights. 
 
 It is impossible to convey in words the amazing 
 tireless activity of the nurses and doctors. I did 
 not know that human beings could work so many
 
 ioo AT THE WAR 
 
 hours without sleep at the most anxious kind of 
 work the world provides. No wonder that the 
 women sometimes break down and require hostels 
 and rest homes. Yet during a number of war visits 
 I have not met with one complaint from any member 
 of any medical staff in the field or elsewhere. There 
 is, on the other hand, the same continuous enthusiasm 
 throughout the medical service as one sees in the 
 great boot factory at Calais, in the vast motor repair 
 shop in Paris, or our transport from Havre to the 
 Front. The stimulus of war seems to double the 
 energy of every human being as soon as he lands 
 in France. 
 
 At this great Casualty Clearing Station by the 
 railway the hospital trains were collecting. When 
 we had been shown through the cool tents and had 
 talked with men we happened to know, we went on 
 to the newly made railway platform where the 
 stretchers were being assembled. It was a scene 
 almost of gaiety. The gramophone was playing 
 the inevitable " If You Were the Only Girl in the 
 World." Jokes, cigarettes, and newspapers were 
 passed about. The men looked the acme of content 
 in their beautiful white train. They were willing 
 and anxious to chat. They were interested in afl 
 that was going on, and grateful. Many might be 
 going to " Blighty " (Britain), the paradise of the 
 wounded man's imagination. 
 
 I do not know whether anyone has written an 
 account of these trains, the doctors and nurses who 
 live in them year in and year out, travelling thousands 
 of miles in the course of a twelvemonth, but someone 
 should do so. My own information is as yet so scanty 
 as to be little worth reading. 1 Of the wonderful 
 hospital barges, too, which, whenever possible, are 
 used on the wide French rivers and canals to carry 
 
 1 I have since read with interest a remarkable record, The Diary 
 of a Nursing Sister (William Black wood and Sons).
 
 35ooo BEDS 101 
 
 cases that cannot stand any shaking, not enough 
 has been said. 
 
 It was interesting at the Clearing Station to see 
 evidence of the Red Cross Society in the existence 
 of the comfortable English beds of many of the 
 sufferers. In the world of wounded all sorts of little 
 things have an importance not understood by the 
 generality of us. A man likes to lie in bed rather 
 than on a stretcher not merely for the sake of custom 
 and comfort. Such is human nature that one man 
 feels proud of having a bed when another man has 
 not. 
 
 The train took away all in a fit condition for 
 travel, leaving behind such cases as those of serious 
 chest, abdominal, and head wounds in the care of 
 
 surgeons. 
 
 ***** 
 
 On a later day I saw the arrival of one such train 
 at one of those hospitals which look out on the sea 
 and are situated on the Northern French coast, 
 which long before the war was recognized as a great 
 healing place. The medical journals tell their readers 
 in their own language of these wonderful hospitals 
 converted casinos and hotels and miles of perfectly- 
 equipped huts. Our hospitals in France are a world 
 of their own. I do not know how many women and 
 men they employ, but I should say more than one 
 hundred thousand. In the Etaples district alone 
 there are 35,000 beds. Canada, Australia, New 
 Zealand, Newfoundland, India, and the whole of 
 the Empire have given with both hands. 
 
 Those of the wounded who can be made well 
 quickly enough and they are, of course, the immense 
 majority go back to their war duties at the front, 
 some eagerly, all without murmuring. As they lie 
 there in these wonderful huts, in which every pro- 
 vision for speedy convalescence, for happiness, and 
 reasonable amusement are afforded, tended as they
 
 102 AT THE WAR 
 
 are by the best surgeons and physicians of the 
 English-speaking world, and by ladies simply and 
 gently born, they all tell you the same story they 
 would like to get a glimpse of " Blighty " before 
 going back again to fight. 
 
 I went on board one of the white hospital ships, 
 marked against submarines on each side with a 
 huge red cross, to see them going home. Arriving 
 on the quay in the British Red Cross and St. John 
 ambulances, and gently carried, with the peculiar, 
 slightly swaying walk of the trained stretcher-bearer, 
 they pass on to the ship and descend in lifts to the 
 particular deck on which is their cot or bed. There 
 can be nothing of the kind in the world better than 
 these speedy, perfectly lit and ventilated vessels. 
 
 Once on board, and yet another stage nearer 
 " Blighty " and the beloved ones, all are content- 
 ment itself. Some of the less injured men were on 
 deck singing merrily. Others of the wounded 
 were discussing a newspaper article outlining a 
 project for the settling of soldiers on land in the 
 Dominions after the war. " Many will go to Canda ; 
 some to Australia, I dare say," said one man ; " but 
 I am one of those who mean to have a little bit of 
 * Blighty ' for myself. We see enough in France 
 to know that a man and his family can manage 
 a bit of land for themselves and live well on it." 
 
 I remember a similar conversation a year ago 
 close to Ypres, when a young sergeant, who had 
 been a gamekeeper at home and a working man 
 Conservative, observed, " The men in the dug-outs 
 talk of a good many subjects, but there is one on 
 which they are all agreed. That is the land question. 
 They are not going back as labourers, or as tenants, 
 but as owners. Lots of them have used their eyes 
 and learned much about small farming here." 
 
 As I watched the swift ship and saw her speeding 
 away to England at well over twenty knots, I won-
 
 A REFLECTION 103 
 
 dered if people and politicians at home are beginning 
 to understand that the bravery and camaraderie of 
 the officers and men in the field have broken down 
 all class feeling ; and that our millions of men abroad 
 are changed communities of whose thoughts and 
 
 aims we know but little. 
 
 ***** 
 
 Just as Grant's soldiers, the Grand Army of the 
 Republic, dominated the elections in the United 
 States for a quarter of a century, so will the men 
 I have seen in the trenches and the ambulances 
 come home and demand by their votes the reward 
 of a very changed England an England they will 
 fashion and share ; an England that is likely to be 
 as much a surprise to the present owners of Capital 
 and leaders of Labour as it may be to the owners 
 of the land.
 
 RED CROSS VISITS 
 
 n
 
 THE PEOPLE AT 83 PALL MALL AND 
 ELSEWHERE 
 
 THE world-wide war work of the British Red Cross 
 Society and Order of St. John of Jerusalem, to which 
 I shall refer, in future, by the generic title of the British 
 Red Cross, ranks among the chief of the achievements 
 of proved British organizing capacity. 
 
 Such a far-flung and minutely complicated machine 
 did not spring like Minerva from the head of Jove. 
 It was born amidst the toil and trouble, rush and 
 mismanagement to be expected by a nation caught 
 unprepared. The sudden demands for help from the 
 Red Cross that followed the retreat from Mons were 
 met, expensively perhaps, but they were met. And 
 after all, when the mansion is burning it is no time to 
 haggle about the cost of the fire engine. 
 
 My personal connexion with and subsequent in- 
 timate Knowledge of the British Red Cross followed an 
 appeal for funds issued in The Times newspaper, 
 generously and continuously supported by practically 
 every leading journal at home and overseas. I soon 
 found that I was to be held responsible by numbers of 
 donors of sums, great and small, for what they con- 
 sidered to be mismanagement on the Continent. I 
 quickly discovered that givers need and deserve 
 information as to the handling of their moneys. I 
 went abroad to investigate, and made my first 
 acquaintance with the edge of the beginning of the 
 Great Crusade at the time of the Battle of the Marne. 
 
 When the complaints were analyzed, it was easy to 
 
 107 H 2
 
 io8 AT THE WAR 
 
 see that the evil growths were just the ordinary 
 weeds that spring up in soil long untilled. Most of 
 them were mistakes of the heart and not of the 
 head, and none of the mistakes were very serious. 
 In the first few weeks of the war every individual 
 nerve in the Empire tingled to be doing something. 
 People rushed hither and thither formulating all sorts 
 of schemes, starting all manner of committees ; many 
 dashed across to France and even farther afield in the 
 burning desire to do something. 
 
 The British Red Cross promptly took its mistakes 
 in hand, and owing to the indefatigable labours of 
 what became the Joint Committee and its assistants, 
 the present smooth-working, thrifty, responsive and 
 ever-growing organization was soon in being. 
 
 Primarily, I take it that the office of the Red Cross 
 is to add just those additions to the medical and 
 relief organizations provided by Government which 
 it is difficult for Government departments to provide 
 quickly. It is the speed with which the Red Cross 
 does things that makes it so valuable an adjunct to 
 the Royal Army Medical Corps and a score of other 
 official organizations. 
 
 While every penny is held to strict account, money 
 has been forthcoming on many occasions to the extent 
 of thousands of pounds at the receipt of some vital 
 telegraphic despatch from one or other of the many 
 theatres of war. I shall endeavour to catalogue some 
 of the things the Red Cross does, some of the goods 
 supplied. A veritable army, employing directly and 
 indirectly at least fifty thousand women and men, 
 voluntary and paid, has its well-known headquarters 
 at 83, Pall Mall, where work is carried on by day and 
 by night three hundred and sixty-five days in the 
 year. 
 
 The British Red Cross and Order of St. John had 
 the excellent fortune to be assisted from the outset 
 by some of the best organizers in the Empire, as I
 
 JOINING THE SOCIETIES 109 
 
 shall show. When the late Lord Rothschild gave me 
 the opportunity of assisting, he had already around 
 him capable men. The great struggle in France grew, 
 and to these helpers were added the voluntary services 
 of other leading men of affairs, men whose careers at 
 home and overseas were indicative of high administra- 
 tive capacity. 
 
 I have often, of malice prepense, suggested to some 
 of my political acquaintances involved in the short- 
 comings, muddles, miscalculations and under- 
 estimations of the first two years of the war, that, had 
 the management been left to 88, Pall Mall and the 
 soldiers and sailors, a good many of the black pages 
 that will stand out in history, and increasingly so as 
 the war is seen in its proper perspective, would not 
 have been written. 
 
 I am furthermore of opinion that the addition of 
 feminine insight to the councils of the Red Cross 
 G.H.Q. has had a great deal to do with the absence of 
 that foolish optimism which would have prevented the 
 Red Cross operations being conducted as they are 
 not for this year or for next year not for 1916 and 
 for 1917, but, if needs be, for 1918, 1919 : yes, and 
 even for 1920, too. 
 
 With the union (for which The Times can claim 
 some credit) of the British Red Cross Society and the 
 Order of St. John for the period of the war at least 
 (and as some of us hope for all time) a Joint Committee 
 of the two organizations became a prime necessity. 
 
 This Committee was formed and commenced its 
 operations on October 20th, 1914, by which time it had 
 made 83, Pall Mall its G.H.Q. The Chairman of the 
 Joint Committee was, and is, the Hon. Arthur Stanley, 
 C.B., M.V.O., M.P. Mr. Stanley's eldest brother, Lord 
 Derby, has done yeoman service in other fields since 
 the outbreak of war, while all his other brothers are 
 serving either with the Army or Navy with distinction 
 to themselves and benefit to their country.
 
 no AT THE WAR 
 
 Mr. Arthur Stanley sits in his office on the third 
 floor of the building in Pall Mall for long hours on 
 every day of the week, and from his office radiate the 
 directions which, as Chairman of the Joint Committee, 
 he issues to every department of the organization. 
 He is the mouthpiece of the Joint Committee, its 
 medium of communication with the Military Authori- 
 ties, and the mainspring of its inspiration. How much 
 the work of the Red Cross owes to its Chairman will 
 probably never be known, and Mr. Stanley would be the 
 last to wish me to assess it. His sweetness of dis- 
 position, and firmness of purpose make him facile 
 princeps in the art of smoothing ruffled susceptibilities, 
 masculine and even feminine, of individuals and even 
 of whole Committees. It only remains to be said that, 
 like all his family, Mr. Stanley is a sound and un- 
 questioned Conservative, so far as these party labels 
 have any meaning nowadays. 
 
 At the right hand of Mr. Stanley is Sir Robert 
 Hudson. At the outbreak of the war Sir Robert was 
 the Chief Agent of the Liberal Party. When war 
 swept over the world he was permitted by the 
 chieftains of his party to throw up his work, and, for 
 the period of the war, to hang up his hat at the head- 
 quarters of the Red Cross, and there he has been 
 practically ever since for ten hours a day and longer. 
 
 Sir Robert's nominal title in Pall Mall is Chairman of 
 the Joint Finance Committee. His real vocation is 
 Financial Manager of the Red Cross G.H.Q. A man 
 with five million or more pounds in his keeping needs a 
 strong control of his generous impulses, and Sir Robert 
 possesses it. He has the faculty of saying " No " more 
 agreeably than any friend of mine except Mr. Arthur 
 Stanley. He is fully responsible for success or failure. 
 If anything goes wrong with Red Cross finance, it is 
 he who would be suspended from a lamp-post con- 
 veniently situated outside his office in Pall Mall, to 
 which fact his attention is constantly called.
 
 AN ACHIEVEMENT IN EFFICIENCY in 
 
 Association with Sir Robert Hudson has taught me 
 a great deal. For a number of years, in common with 
 others of sound political views, I have been engaged in 
 fighting the wicked machinations of the Radical Party 
 in England. I surmise now that the reason of many 
 of our failures was the presence of Sir Robert at the 
 Liberal headquarters. It is reassuring to know that 
 he is a force with whom we shall not have to contend 
 in the immediate future, for his services have been lent 
 to the Red Cross for the period of the war. Certain 
 optimists concerned in our work are flattering them- 
 selves that by a process of peaceful persuasion we shall 
 win Sir Robert from his evil political ways. Whether 
 there is foundation for this hope, remains to be seen. 
 He may have a political conscience. But, even if he 
 has, it is permissible to hope that, some day, he may 
 find salvation. 
 
 Sir Robert Hudson, who might probably, had he 
 wished it, have been an influence in one of the great 
 departments of State, links up and controls the 
 infinitely complex organization of the Red Cross with 
 a well- concealed hand of iron. I say unhesitatingly 
 that I hope he and Mr. Arthur Stanley and Sir William 
 Garstin (to name only three of them) will remain 
 where they are until war is a thing of the past. 
 
 Accustomed myself to a wearisome round of 
 organization, and believing that I understand some- 
 thing of the direction of staffs, I never visit the Red 
 Cross G.H.Q and its numerous and varied offshoots 
 abroad without feeling that any change in the adminis- 
 tration at 83, Pall Mall would be a serious blow to a 
 wonderful achievement in efficiency. 
 
 The Red Cross has no direct connexion with 
 Government. There are no jobs to be found for 
 office seekers, no rewards are expected or given to the 
 workers. Honours lists pass by unread in the stress 
 of work. Political, social and pecuniary pressure are 
 unknown, though perhaps a little was ineffectually at-
 
 ii2 AT THE WAR 
 
 tempted in the early days, before the Stanley-Hudson 
 combination had manifested itself. The true distinc- 
 tion of Red Cross service is that it should pass without 
 " recognition." Even my comments here will, I 
 daresay, be resented by those whom I venture thus 
 to mention. 
 
 Sub-Committees of the Joint War Committee have 
 been set up for all the principal branches of the work. 
 The chief of these departments are : 
 
 The Finance Department (which directly affects, 
 and so far as money is concerned, controls 
 every branch of the work), 
 
 The Stores and Transport Department, 
 
 The Collections Department, 
 
 The Motor Ambulance Department, 
 
 The Motor Launch and Hospital-Ship Depart- 
 ment, 
 
 The General Personnel Department, 
 
 The Medical and Surgical Personnel Department, 
 
 The Trained Nurses Department, 
 
 The V.A.D. Department, 
 
 The Auxiliary Home Hospitals Department, 
 
 The Convalescent Homes for Officers Depart- 
 ment, 
 
 The Missing and Wounded Inquiry Department, 
 
 The Prisoners of War Department, 
 
 The Travelling and Passport Department, 
 
 The Hospital Trains Department, 
 
 The Anglo-French Hospitals Department, 
 
 and there are in addition offices which deal with : 
 
 General Enquiries, 
 
 Accountancy, 
 
 Pay of Personnel, 
 
 Contracts for Personnel, 
 
 King George Hospital, 
 
 The " Star and Garter " Home, 
 
 Convalescent Camps,
 
 SOME DEPARTMENTS 113 
 
 Church Collections, 
 
 Issue and Receipt of Collecting Boxes, 
 
 Printing and Stationery. 
 
 There is a room in which a doctor attends to 
 medically examine and inoculate the staff proceeding 
 abroad. There are a telephone exchange, a tea room for 
 the female staff, typists' and clerks' rooms, a printing 
 and duplicating room, and scores of other offices 
 where idleness is unknown. Finally there is a large 
 chamber which is used for meetings of the important 
 Committees and Sub-Committees, where alone it is 
 hinted, by those who do not sit on the Committees, 
 that time is occasionally wasted. 
 
 Apart from the central stores in Pall Mall there are 
 a variety of other stores in various convenient parts 
 of London. The Medical and Surgical Stores occupies 
 a building in Store Street, Tottenham Court Road. 
 The greater part of Devonshire House, lent by the 
 Duke and Duchess of Devonshire, is devoted to the 
 work of the V.A.D., whether of the British Red Cross 
 Society or of the Order of St. John. 18, Carlton 
 House Terrace, lent by Lord Astor, is given over to 
 the work of the Missing and Wounded Department. 
 
 Very extensive premises have just been acquired 
 in Thurloe Place, opposite Brompton Oratory, as the 
 headquarters of the Prisoners of War Committee, 
 which will be charged with a regular dispatch of parcels 
 to all British prisoners of war. Surrey House, Marble 
 Arch, lent by Lady Battersea, houses the War Library, 
 which dispatches books, magazines and papers for 
 the sick and wounded, both at home and abroad. 
 The Central Workrooms carries on its immense work 
 in the Royal Academy, thanks to the generosity of 
 Sir Edward Poynter and the Council. 
 
 These are the chief departments which fall under 
 the immediate control and supervision of G.H.Q. 
 Farther afield are, of course, the headquarters and
 
 AT THE WAR 
 
 branches of the Joint Committee's activities in France 
 and Flanders, in Italy, Egypt, Malta, Salonica, 
 Mesopotamia and India, and British East Africa. 
 Each of these areas has a Chief Commissioner and 
 staff of doctors, nurses, accountants, store-keepers, 
 mechanics, ambulance drivers, orderlies, and clerks. 
 The Joint Committee has assisted in setting up 
 hospitals and providing ambulances in Russia and 
 Roumania. In the Mediterranean and in Eastern 
 waters it has a fleet of motor boats for the conveyance 
 both of the wounded and of Red Cross stores and 
 comforts. Its fleet of ambulances, lorries, repair cars, 
 soup kitchens, numbers over 2,100. Its vehicular 
 machinery comprises X-ray cars, dentists' cars, cycles, 
 wagons, post offices. 
 
 Its personnel in every branch of its work from doctors 
 to ambulance drivers is very largely voluntary and 
 unpaid. The head of every department in England, 
 and the commissioners and chief officials in all the 
 theatres of war, are all serving without pay, and even 
 where pay is drawn there must be innumerable cases 
 where it represents only a fraction of the income 
 which the official could have commanded if he had 
 remained in his ordinary sphere of life. 
 
 I could illustrate this by the case of doctors who 
 at the outbreak of war gave up lucrative practices 
 bringing them in many thousands a year and " signed 
 on " with the Red Cross for service abroad at the flat 
 rate of l per day. The pay which they receive would 
 in many cases be insufficient to meet the rent of their 
 rooms in Harley Street. It may fairly be said that 
 every worker under the Red Cross, paid or unpaid, 
 has made some sacrifice and has made it eagerly and 
 gladly. 
 
 It may be thought that these numberless depart- 
 ments (most of them with a committee of experts to 
 guide them) with the need of holding numerous meet- 
 ings of the committee must inevitably produce delay,
 
 THE PERSONNEL 115 
 
 but that is not the case. The committees deal with 
 matters of principle, and the ordinary control of the 
 daily work is left to the head of the department and 
 his staff. If the Joint War Committee considers that 
 50,000 worth of stores, should be dispatched to 
 Mesopotamia, or that a hospital ship, costing 20,000, 
 should be built for the Tigris, and if the Finance 
 Committee approve the expenditure, a notification is 
 made to Sir William Garstin. Sir William, an ad- 
 ministrator whose work is known throughout the 
 Empire, was a very fortunate catch for the Red Cross. 
 It is he who presides over the Stores Department. 
 Should the urgent matters concern boat-transport, 
 Mr. George Warre, who has charge of the Motor 
 Launch and Hospital Ship Department, is naturally 
 consulted. 
 
 Emergency meetings of many of the Committees 
 are called at a few hours' notice. Most of the mem- 
 bers are to be found for ten hours a day at 88, Pall 
 Mall, and not merely a quorum but a full attendance 
 can be ensured at the shortest notice. It is recognized 
 that all the work of the Joint Societies is urgent and 
 that none of it will brook delay. Everything can be 
 found in the Pall Mall building, with the single excep- 
 tion of Red Tape. 
 
 It is impossible to exaggerate the debt which the 
 Joint Societies owe to the heads of their various 
 departments. The Stores and Transport Department 
 is, as we have already mentioned, controlled by 
 a great Empire-builder, Sir William Garstin ; the 
 Medical and Surgical personnel is inspected and 
 chosen by Sir Frederick Treves ; the Collections 
 Committee is served by Sir Charles Russell ; the 
 Motor Ambulance Department is directed by a man 
 of the great business capacity of Mr. E. M. Clarke ; 
 the Auxiliary Home Hospitals Department is under 
 the charge of Dr. Robert Fox-Symons ; Sir John 
 Furley (who did Red Cross work in the Franco-
 
 u6 AT THE WAR 
 
 German War of 1870) controls the Hospital Trains 
 Department ; the Hon. Reginald Coventry devotes 
 himself to the Travelling and Passport Office ; Surgeon- 
 General Sir Benjamin Franklin controls the personnel 
 Contract Department ; Sir Starr Jameson directs the 
 dispatch of parcels to the Prisoners of War. These 
 men are incalculable assets to the organization. 
 
 That alert and hustling monarch, King Manoel of 
 Portugal, a young man with a future, I am very sure, 
 is a tireless Red Cross worker. 
 
 I have already hinted that the Red Cross owes 
 much to the women who serve it. Mrs. Charles 
 Furse, the widow of the distinguished painter, is in 
 command of the V.A.D.'s ; Miss Swift is Chief 
 Matron of the Trained Nurses' Department ; Georgina 
 Lady Dudley manages the Department for Convales- 
 cent Officers ; Lady Gosford is at the Central Work- 
 rooms. These are only a few of those whose names 
 deserve to be remembered in the years to come. 
 
 But apart from these heads of departments a tribute 
 must be paid to every worker, paid or unpaid, male 
 or female, of the great army at home and abroad 
 which devotes itself so ungrudgingly to the work of 
 organization. The spirit of sacrifice animates every- 
 one from the highest to the lowest. It is noteworthy 
 that the Boy Scouts of the Red Cross run more quickly 
 on their errands than others do. 
 
 The immense daily correspondence at G.H.Q. is 
 opened and dealt with on a most careful system, made 
 necessary by the fact that a large proportion of the 
 letters are either of extreme urgency or contain remit- 
 tances which require careful accountancy and safe 
 banking and acknowledgment. 
 
 When the letters have been opened and docketed, 
 they are circulated to the departments to which they 
 relate, after being recorded in a register and marked 
 so that the actual opener of the letter can always be 
 identified. With remittances running into hundreds
 
 SIX THOUSAND POUNDS DAILY 117 
 
 of thousands and aggregating nearly 5,000,000, it is 
 a fine testimonial that there is hardly a case of a miss- 
 ing contribution, and in the few cases which have 
 arisen it is almost certain that the loss has been in 
 transmission in the post or has happened, alas 1 from 
 time to time, by the destruction of a ship carrying 
 mails from abroad. 
 
 By close accountancy, a careful watching of the 
 balances at the bank, and a speedy investment in 
 short term Treasury Bills of all available balances, a 
 sum has been earned in interest which in itself will 
 probably turn out to be sufficiently large to defray 
 the administrative expenses of the Joint Committee 
 in Pall Mall. This is largely the work of Sir Robert 
 Hudson, and is evidence that the Liberal War Chest, 
 so disturbing to humble Tory workers like myself, is 
 carefully financed. 
 
 The Red Cross revenue has been drawn from every 
 part of the King's Dominions, and indeed from sym- 
 pathizers in many neutral countries, who, if they do 
 not take sides in the world conflict, at least feel for 
 others who are broken in the fight. 
 
 It has been the privilege of The Times (and its weekly 
 edition) not merely to make the appeal known to the 
 English-speaking world, but also to acknowledge in 
 its columns day by day since August, 1914, the moneys 
 which have been sent in response to the appeal. In 
 the history of charitable appeals there has never been 
 any such response as that received to the cry of the 
 British Red Cross. Six thousand pounds a day has 
 been asked for, and for a period of 26 months this 
 average has been steadily maintained and indeed 
 slightly exceeded. 
 
 When the first year's accounts of the Joint Com- 
 mittee were published, they were reviewed in the 
 columns of The Times by the acknowledged head of 
 the accountants' world, Sir William Plender. Sir 
 William stated after his examination of the accounts
 
 n8 AT THE WAR 
 
 14 that (excluding hospitals) the total home administra- 
 tion and management expenses including the unpack- 
 ing, sorting, and repacking of gifts in kind only 
 amount to 41,070, equal to 2J per cent, of the total 
 income, or approximately 5jd. in the pound. . . . 
 Few administrative bodies are required to meet such 
 unexpected demands upon their resources, or are 
 called upon to cope with so many emergencies as are 
 those controlling Red Cross work. 
 
 4 The wise and economical administration of public 
 funds calls at all times for the exercise of unusual 
 qualities ; but the difficulties and responsibilities are 
 vastly increased where a great organization has to be 
 built up in a short time during a period of unpre- 
 cedented commercial and financial disturbance, and 
 to meet demands the nature and extent of which 
 cannot be foreseen. 
 
 " That further appeals will be made to the generosity 
 of the public and still heavier calls made on the 
 activities of the Joint Committee cannot be doubted, 
 but if the experience of the past be any guide to 
 the future, no apprehension need be felt on either 
 ground. It must be no little satisfaction to the many 
 thousands of contributors at home and overseas to 
 realize that the work of the Joint Committee who 
 are trustees for the public has been worthy of the 
 great task committed to their keeping." 
 
 In connexion with the financial side of the work, 
 it is right that recognition should be paid to the debt 
 which the Joint Committee owes to Messrs. Chatteris, 
 Nichols & Co., who act as hon. auditors, and whose 
 staff are always at work, either in England or on the 
 Continent, without receiving any remuneration for 
 the work ; to Messrs. Kemp, Sons, Sendell & Co., who 
 are in charge of the Accountancy Department at 
 Pall Mall ; and to Mr. Basil Mayhew, of Messrs. 
 Barton, Mayhew & Co., chartered accountants, who 
 from the inception of the Joint Finance Committee
 
 AUGUST, 1914 119 
 
 has acted as its Secretary, and whose services to the 
 Joint Societies are beyond computation. 
 
 It is impossible, in such a review as this, to give 
 any idea of the varied activities and energies which 
 a visit to 88, Pall Mall would disclose. The London 
 public are already familiar with the spectacle of a large 
 part of Pall Mall being permanently occupied by the 
 great motor lorries and delivery vans of the Stores 
 Department. The Joint Committee were well advised 
 when they pitched their tent in a thoroughfare like 
 Pall Mall, where the passer-by can see for himself 
 something of the output which ceases neither by day 
 nor by night, and which extends itself over seven days 
 a week. 
 
 Just after the assassination at Sarajevo, which 
 Germany made her pretext for the war, I was idling 
 at what is now one of the greatest Red Cross centres 
 and the most important continental base. That 
 beautiful summer of 1914 saw such an upheaval at 
 Boulogne as has not been witnessed since Napoleon 
 encamped his quarter of a million on the same 
 ground where some of our Boulogne and Wimereux 
 hospitals are now placed. 
 
 The northern coast of France was beginning to get 
 an unusually good " season." At Wimereux Mr. 
 Hilton had just completed a golf course equal to many 
 of those in East Lothian. The roses at the villas of 
 Le Touquet were in their first glory. Little brown 
 legs were already running in and out of the freakish 
 houses on the splendid sands at Paris Plage. Boulogne- 
 sur-Mer itself was very much what it was when Charles 
 Dickens loved it. 
 
 Mr. Merridew, half bookseller, half antiquary, had 
 given me his essay on the English in Boulogne, and 
 we wandered up to see what remains of the house in 
 which Dickens entertained his mid- Victorian circle. 
 I stayed at the old Hotel Christol now by a freak of 
 fortune the Red Cross G.H.Q. in France. I was
 
 120 AT THE WAR 
 
 attached to the hotel because of its association with 
 many happy holidays, and also by reason of the fact 
 that it was there, far from the madding crowd, and 
 the observant eye of Fleet Street, that Mr. Moberly 
 Bell and I concluded the negotiations by which I 
 became associated with The Times. The actual 
 rooms in which these negotiations took place are now 
 the centre of one of the most interesting portions of 
 the work of the Red Cross, the Boulogne branch of 
 the search for the missing. 
 
 But this is no place for peace time reminiscence. 
 I hurried home as events grew more ominous, and when 
 I next saw the grey old town it was in the hands of 
 the Allied forces and the Red Cross had seized my 
 
 comfortable hostelry. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 Let me tell of the men who have done so much for 
 our wounded at the Chief Foreign Base. 
 
 I have pointed out the Red Cross has been fortunate 
 all through in the manner in which great public 
 servants were attracted to its cause. At the outset 
 Sir Alfred Keogh who, with Sir Arthur Sloggett, is 
 recognized in Allied and even enemy countries as a 
 great medical organizer, became first Chief Commis- 
 sioner in France, until, as will be remembered, he was 
 recalled to England and placed in charge of the medical 
 service at the War Office. Sir Arthur Sloggett, 
 genial, alert and shrewd, then succeeded him as 
 Director- General of the medical service of the British 
 armies in France, and became at the same time the 
 titular Chief Commissioner of the Joint Committee 
 there, the Acting-Commissioner being Sir Savile 
 Crossley, now Lord Somerleyton. 
 
 Next Sir Courtauld Thomson most capably took 
 things in hand at Boulogne, and when Sir Courtauld 
 was urgently called East to look after Egypt, Malta, 
 and the Mediterranean, Sir Arthur Lawley went to 
 Boulogne and ably continued the chain of notable
 
 DISTANT WORKERS 121 
 
 administrators. The present Commissioner is the 
 Earl of Donoughmore, who gets through an immense 
 amount of work with much rapidity, and whose Irish 
 sense of humour greatly helps. At the time of writing 
 Mr. E. A. Ridsdale, a Red Cross veteran and known 
 throughout the whole service, is temporary acting 
 Commissioner in France in the absence of Lord 
 Donoughmore, who is trying to settle the differences 
 between the soldiers and politicians in regard to 
 Mesopotamia. 
 
 While in Italy I encountered Lord Monson, who is 
 the Italian Commissioner, and whose life is as 
 active as it is interesting. The Commissioners 
 for British East Africa, Mesopotamia, and Salonica 
 are Colonel Montgomery, Colonel Jay Gould, and 
 Mr. Herbert L. Fitzpatrick respectively all devoted 
 servants of the Red Cross with many others in distant 
 fields worthy of mention and praise, concerning whom 
 the limits of this book renders it impossible to deal. 
 
 The glamour of distance lends enchantment to the 
 idea of Red Cross work abroad. It is glamour and 
 nothing more, for the work is unending and the workers 
 are in exile. But they have their reward, and are 
 probably equally careless of our thanks or of our 
 appreciation.
 
 II 
 
 HOW SOME OF THE MONEY IS SPENT- 
 
 AT this late period in the history of the War people 
 are accustomed to take chapters on hospitals as read. 
 But there is so great a variety in the hospitals of the 
 British Red Cross Society both as to locale and 
 internal arrangement, that the subject is not so dull 
 as might be apprehended. First let me say that 
 in the atmosphere of all the war that I have seen 
 British, Canadian, Australian, Belgian, French, and 
 Italian there is an activity and eagerness not to 
 be found, and perhaps not necessary, in hospitals 
 in peace time. I have no intention of comparing 
 the merits of hospitals. Hospitals are as jealous 
 of each other as politicians, generals, or even news- 
 papers. If I dare hint at conspicuous efficiency 
 there is the Red Cross Hospital at Netley, the 
 wonderful hospital of the Order of St. John at 
 Etaples, or any one of the army hospitals at Wimereux 
 and elsewhere. 
 
 Where the staffs of all are animated by so great a 
 spirit of sacrifice, I will do my best to avoid odious com- 
 parisons by first describing the British Red Cross 
 Hospital which, at the time of writing, is still close to 
 where the shells are falling at Cormons near Gorizia. 
 All the hospitals that are the occupants of converted 
 buildings are a testimony to British adaptability and 
 thoroughness. This hospital at Cormons, which I 
 have recollections of visiting on a day when the heat 
 was that of the plains of Hindustan rather than of 
 Europe, has encased itself in a large and typical
 
 124 AT THE WAR 
 
 Venetian villa. And our British Red Cross convoys 
 in Italy arc our little token of gratitude to our 
 Italian Allies who entered the war in circumstances 
 of extreme difficulty, whose commerce was so en- 
 meshed in the German net, whose aristocracy was 
 so convinced of the invincibility of Germany, whose 
 Vatican was always so apprehensive of the power of 
 Austria. The hospital is staffed, so I was informed, 
 by quite a number of those who have a conscientious 
 objection to shedding blood in warfare. I know 
 nothing of their political opinions, which I did not 
 discuss with them. I was there to examine the effi- 
 ciency of the hospital. It was the 105th hospital I 
 have entered in the last few years. 
 
 Certainly it is most efficient, and if the young men 
 I saw objected to the shedding of blood, they obviously 
 had no objections about assuaging the woes of the 
 blood-bespattered and mangled men who came out of 
 the British Red Cross ambulances from the battle of 
 Gorizia. 
 
 As I have pointed out elsewhere in one of the tele- 
 grams of which this book is largely composed, the very 
 first person I met coming out of Gorizia and under shell 
 fire which was pouring on the only remaining bridge, 
 was Mr. Trevelyan one of the heads of this efficient 
 undertaking. If I have a criticism to offer of the 
 British Red Cross Hospital at Cormons on that torrid 
 day, it was that it was overcrowded, but that was not 
 the fault of the hospital, but of the battle. Every 
 possible means had been taken to extend the wards 
 of this old spacious Venetian villa, the outcome of 
 centuries of architectural knowledge and the art of 
 living. 
 
 A few days later I had an enthralling afternoon 
 with Professor Boni in his most recent excavations 
 in the Palatine. There, two thousand years old, are 
 the same rooms, the same floorings, the same use of 
 the brilliant red one often found in the shells of
 
 CONSCIENTIOUS OBJECTORS 125 
 
 Pompcian houses, that I saw among the mural 
 decorations and in the wall paintings of the large 
 and airy salon at Cormons. To Italian architectural 
 largeness Mr. Trevelyan and his medical associates 
 have added British practical hospital ways. I 
 have recollections of long, perfectly ventilated 
 rooms, the beds filled with bandaged men reading 
 and fanning themselves. Enemy patients were 
 among them, treated, as in every case I have 
 found in Allied hospitals, with as much care as our 
 friends. It made one proud to hear from Italians 
 that this hospital is as close to the firing line as is 
 permitted. It rejoiced me to see our good ambulance 
 drivers running their risk with the same imperturb- 
 ability as I have seen in the British ambulance drivers 
 at Verdun and elsewhere. Some of the ambulances are 
 now covered with a form of steel network, which may 
 possibly prove some shield against shrapnel splinters, 
 and which undoubtedly gives confidence to the wounded 
 inside. All the arrangements at this hospital are as good 
 as those of our hospitals in France. The difficulties are 
 much greater. Its base is in England. It has to be 
 self-contained in every respect. It has to have its 
 motor repair shop, and supply of spare parts, its 
 own stock of drugs and the other paraphernalia of a 
 war hospital. 
 
 I am not an admirer of the type of conscientious 
 objector who prefers the safety of quarry work miles 
 to the rear of where men are never out of danger, but 
 the conscientious objectors, almost entirely members 
 of the Society of Friends, that I have met here 
 and at Dunkirk impressed one favourably. There 
 is not much choice of danger between driving an 
 ambulance in the fire zone and driving an ammunition 
 wagon. Some of the conscientious objectors are 
 quite militant, and one feels that parental or 
 family tradition has a good deal more to do with their 
 opposition than any real objection on their part to
 
 126 AT THE WAR 
 
 handle a bomb or bayonet. Their avidity for war 
 news and their keenness in the struggle would, I 
 think, shock some of the staid folk who sit so mute 
 and gravely in Meeting Houses at Westminster, 
 Jordans, or at Germantown, near the City of Brotherly 
 Love. It is only mere justice to say of the Quakers, 
 that many of them, at any rate, have done their best in 
 a very difficult personal situation. They and a host 
 of other people engaged in the war, including the 
 regimental doctors and stretcher bearers, officers, 
 non-commissioned officers and men of the R.A.M.C., 
 are officially labelled non-combatants, and are un- 
 armed. Germans in like case, and it is proved 
 by photographic and other evidence, carry weapons, 
 if only for self-defence, though I would not have it 
 deduced that the rifles you may see slung across 
 the shoulders of the German Red Cross men are 
 used for aggression. But the only protection our 
 so-called non-combatants have is their badge, which, 
 in the excitement, dust and smoke of battle is not a 
 very powerful protection. 
 
 I did not linger unduly at Cormons, because an inter- 
 esting battle was raging close at hand, and every minute 
 brought its stretcher with its conscious or unconscious 
 piece of dishevelled, bloodstained humanity , from which 
 rose a great cloud of flies so numerous as to be posi- 
 tively noisy. Inside the hospital there were flies, but 
 not many. The fight against flies is one of the most 
 wonderful victories of the hospitals English and 
 Italian. At the great Italian base hospital at Udine 
 the flies seem to have been absolutely vanquished. 
 ***** 
 
 Beyond these remote outposts of the Red Cross 
 there are others much farther afield, in Salonica, 
 and Egypt, and farther away than that, which should 
 be in the thoughts and prayers of the people at home. 
 There is no going on leave for their staffs there is no- 
 where to go. Life is one perpetual round of operations
 
 NO 2, ROUEN 127 
 
 and of feeding and washing the war victims. At 
 whatever hour of the day or night you may be reading 
 this, remember that in the hospitals all over the 
 
 world this same noble work is being carried on. 
 ***** 
 
 I have a recollection of another Red Cross hospital, 
 and my recollection is aided by notes kindly provided 
 by Major A. W. A. Irwin, R.A.M.C. It is officially 
 known as No. 2 Red Cross Hospital, Rouen, and its 
 arrangements and the list of the staff give some idea 
 of what is required in a hospital which is, compara- 
 tively speaking, by no means one of the largest. 
 Rouen is an interesting centre of British activity 
 abroad. In the days I spent there, there was 
 a permanent English population of over 30,000. 
 There is always a large transient addition to this 
 considerable gathering of men and women, and No. 2 
 deals with their woes as well as those of the wounded. 
 
 In the early days of the War, when the British 
 Expeditionary Force landed on the Continent, among 
 the many buildings and sites of the camps selected 
 in the North of France for hospital purposes was 
 the Grand Seminaire, Rouen. Curiously enough, 
 this was used similarly by the Germans during the 
 Franco-Prussian War. 
 
 The Seminaire is a comparatively modern three- 
 storied brick and stone building standing on the 
 hillside overlooking the city, and comprising the 
 main quarters of the priests and students, with their 
 classrooms, libraries, and infirmary under the same 
 roof, and chapel adjoining, together with a detached 
 house of considerable accommodation, a laundry, 
 and outhouses in various corners of the extensive 
 orchards and gardens. 
 
 Whilst preparations were being made by the Army 
 authorities to convert this into a hospital, the enemy 
 advanced to within a few miles, and it became 
 necessary to evacuate. After a few weeks, however,
 
 i 2 8 AT THE WAR 
 
 the tide had turned sufficiently to allow the city to 
 be reoccupied and work resumed, but instead of 
 carrying out the original intention that the hospital 
 should be purely military, the enterprise of the 
 British Red Cross Society was called upon, and this 
 organization was henceforward mainly responsible 
 for the internal management and expense, running 
 it as a part of the Army as indeed in this critical 
 and busy time they are running so many similar 
 ventures, the value of which will probably never be 
 fully estimated. 
 
 Upon the taking over of the unit which occurred 
 early in September, 1914, several aid posts and 
 rest stations at the neighbouring villages and railway 
 stations were opened and attached. 
 
 The original personnel consisted of about sixty 
 medical officers, sisters and orderlies in all, who 
 were sent out by the British Red Cross Society from 
 England to be placed under a regular R.A.M.C. 
 Commandant. This staff became modified in various 
 ways according to requirements, the strength for 
 normal working being finally fixed to include the 
 Commandant a regular R.A.M.C. officer of the Army 
 6 medical officers, 1 quartermaster, matron and 
 32 sisters, 35 V.A.D. nurses (including housekeeper), 
 76 N.C.O.'s and men of all duties, comprising dis- 
 penser, radiographer, theatre attendants, male nurse, 
 ward orderlies, clerical staff, storekeepers, plumber, 
 carpenter, cooks, motor lorry driver, gate police, 
 postman, and pioneers, together with 4 Boy Scouts 
 for messenger and general duties. All of these are 
 B.R.C.S. workers, except the Commandant, sergt- 
 major, and 2 N.C.O.'s, who are regular R.A.M.C. 
 men, not paid by the Society, the duties of the latter 
 chiefly lying in dealing with official Army Returns 
 and Statistics. 
 
 After the calling up and replacement of eligibles 
 for military service, the whole male personnel, except
 
 THE ADAPTED SEMINAIRE 129 
 
 an irreducible minimum of skilled indispensable men, 
 are physically unfit for the army, or not of military 
 age. 
 
 By the strenuous and incessant work of the 
 original unit which came out, and that of Royal 
 Engineers, the Seminaire was rapidly adapted for 
 hospital use, and the detached building formed into 
 the home for the staff. 
 
 While this was being done, large numbers of 
 wounded were already passing through, the first 
 convoy being admitted on the 26th September, 1914. 
 
 In the winter of 1914-15, the accommodation being 
 insufficient for the growing needs, two asbestos huts 
 of the usual Army pattern were set up in the cloistered 
 quadrangle of the main building, holding about 
 twenty beds each, and with these the number of 
 beds was increased to 178 as the normal figure ; 
 in busy times, however, this has been swelled into 
 as many as 250, by the placing of additional beds 
 in the wards and corridors. 
 
 The nursing accommodation consists of two large and 
 two small wards of 28, 24, 8 and 7 beds respectively, 
 and two huts holding 20 and 16 beds, besides which 
 there are 90 student rooms, each holding two beds, 
 except on one floor which is primarily reserved for 
 Field Officers. A number of these rooms are used 
 for staff and other purposes, leaving their capacity 
 for patients at 73, giving a total of 176 as the normal 
 number of beds. 
 
 In many cases beds are named by donors to the 
 funds of the Society, and the two large wards are 
 now named " The English Public Schools Wards," 
 these schools contributing largely to their main- 
 tenance. 
 
 The departments of the hospital are of the usual 
 numerous and varied character, comprising amongst 
 others a large, well-lit and equipped operating theatre 
 with anaesthetising, sterilizing, and X-ray rooms
 
 130 AT THE WAR 
 
 adjoining. Next to these is the dispensary and 
 out-patients' department, in the latter of which 
 cases coming up from the base are examined and 
 treated. The X-ray apparatus was the gift to the 
 hospital by the firm of Ellimans' Embrocation. 
 
 There is also a pathological laboratory in which 
 much important work is carried on by an expert 
 bacteriologist, and a room equipped for massage 
 and general electrical treatment. 
 
 Slighter cases, who are able to move about, mess 
 in a large and handsomely furnished room formerly 
 the Seminaire infirmary for sick priests and students. 
 Through this room is a broad balcony covered by 
 a glass awning, forming an ideal sun-room for patients, 
 and looking across the garden with a magnificent 
 view of the cathedral and city, backed on the other 
 bank of the river by tracts of forest land that stretch 
 far away over the distant horizon. Under this balcony 
 is a long arched verandah which serves a like purpose 
 for the lower floor. 
 
 The cooking of the hospital is done in the main 
 kitchen, which being designed and furnished for 
 the ordinary needs of the establishment in time 
 of peace, is amply capable of catering for the maximum 
 number of patients in hospital. Three other kitchens 
 serve the home, N.C.O.'s and orderlies' messes. 
 
 Placed in convenient parts of the main buildings 
 and outhouses are the stores for linen, rations, meat, 
 coal, patients' kits, quartermaster's stores, and sur- 
 gical necessaries, as well as the dairy, and a branch 
 of the Expeditionary Force canteens. In the grounds 
 also are the disinfector and incinerator, which play 
 a large part in the general sanitation and health of 
 a war hospital. 
 
 The orderly staff are billeted in marquees, Alwyn 
 huts, and buildings in a part of the grounds pictur- 
 esquely laid out, and sloping up to a stone terrace 
 upon which some of the huts are pitched.
 
 FRENCH KINDNESS 131 
 
 For the first three months of 1915, both officers 
 and other ranks were treated, but subsequently 
 the hospital was reserved for officers only. In October 
 the hospital was inspected by the King during his 
 visit to the Armies in France. 
 
 No change of importance took place until November, 
 when about thirty V.A.D. nurses were sent out, and 
 the male orderly staff reduced it is hardly necessary 
 to say that the splendid work of these ladies ever 
 since has been of very great value. 
 
 During the whole of the two years, the disposition 
 of the French in their capacity of landlords has been 
 not only consistently courteous, but exceedingly 
 generous, and the fact that the late and present 
 Archbishops of Rouen have resided in the chateau 
 overlooking the hospital has always been one of 
 considerable benefit ; each of these in turn allowing 
 free use of his private grounds and orchard which 
 run up to the door of the palace a gift which proved 
 of the greatest value for rest and convalescent 
 exercise of the patients besides which the nave 
 of the chapel is given over, and services are regularly 
 held there by the resident chaplain. 
 
 Since its opening, the hospital has treated in 
 round figures a total of 10,000 cases, all of whom were 
 British officers, except some 526 British N.C.O.'s 
 and men, 60 nursing Sisters, 6 patients of French 
 and other nationalities, and one German officer. 
 
 The busiest period in its history was the six weeks 
 ending the 12th of August, 1916, during which time 
 350 operations in the theatre were performed, as well 
 as 300 dressings done under anaesthetics, and 590 
 X-ray examinations made a heavy share of work, 
 which was duly commended by the authorities. 
 
 Of the original staff which came out in September, 
 1914, only one Sister remains with the unit, though 
 several others are still working in France. Their 
 places, however, have been filled from time to time
 
 132 AT THE WAR 
 
 by the most skilled and well chosen workers, so that 
 no unit can show a better record. Never in its 
 history has the hospital been more highly efficient 
 than at the present time, everything being done to 
 give the British officer the best possible treatment 
 and to make him as comfortable as possible.
 
 Ill 
 
 THE SEARCH FOR THE MISSING. 
 
 IN the earliest days of the War a beloved only 
 son was missing, and his mother asked The Times 
 if it could use its organization in Paris to search the 
 battlefields for news of him. One of the members 
 of the French staff of the newspaper spent some three 
 weeks in a vain endeavour to obtain definite in- 
 formation. That, I believe, was the first systematic 
 attempt at what has now grown to be a very important 
 branch of Red Cross work. 
 
 Shortly afterwards Lord Robert Cecil went to Paris, 
 and I remember finding him busily at work in a small 
 room in the Hotel lena. The Department inaugur- 
 ated by Lord Robert has now become one of the 
 many useful branches of Red Cross work. Lord 
 Robert easily set the example of thoroughness for 
 which the department is known, for he himself went 
 out personally to search cottages and chateaux 
 for men who might have been carried there for 
 treatment, and to discover, if possible, the whereabouts 
 of the graves of the fallen. 
 
 The news of this errand of mercy which the Red 
 Cross Society was speeding travelled swift and far, 
 and soon the calls made upon the staff available 
 threatened to overwhelm it. The small effort, it 
 was clear, must be extended for the idea of abandon- 
 ing it was not entertained. So larger premises were 
 secured and branches were opened in Boulogne 
 and other suitable places, and a central office was 
 organized in London. Here a large number of
 
 134 AT THE WAR 
 
 charitably minded people laboured to carry on the 
 great mass of work which waited upon their efforts. 
 So fast did the organization grow that the original 
 accommodation at 83 Pall Mall proved quite in- 
 adequate. Lord Salisbury then provided larger 
 quarters at 20 Arlington Street, and in February, 
 1915, the staff was transferred there. 
 
 In July, however, more room had become necessary, 
 and then the Duke of Norfolk placed the first floor 
 of Norfolk House at the disposal of the workers. 
 A month later this space was inadequate, and the 
 prisoners' department was transferred to London 
 House. Finally, Lord Astor lent his house in Carlton 
 House Terrace, and there the organization is now 
 housed. The prisoners' department has been con- 
 stituted now as a separate system. 
 
 These quick changes of home reveal clearly how 
 strong a hold upon the public imagination the new 
 work obtained, and how eager all those who had ceased 
 to hear from their friends in France, or who knew 
 that their friends were among the missing, were to 
 avail themselves of help. They reveal also how 
 thoroughly the organization won the public trust, how 
 efficient it was even at the beginning, and how great 
 a want was supplied by it. 
 
 The principle of working had, of course, to be 
 evolved, and the difficulties encountered in the course 
 of this work were very many. The first searchers 
 found themselves with a list of names, and with the 
 whole of war- wracked France in which to search for 
 those men. How were they to begin to search ? 
 Where were they to go ? The armies were fully 
 engaged in battles upon the issue of which hung the 
 fate of Europe ; men had small leisure to spare for 
 seeking for fallen comrades. 
 
 It was seen that the first step must be to tap the 
 resources of the hospitals. Members of the first 
 little party with which Lord Robert Cecil was identi-
 
 THE "WATCHERS" 135 
 
 fied began to try to gain news of the missing by 
 questioning the wounded. Sometimes this method 
 led to nothing, but frequently a man would be found 
 who had known the lost soldier and marked his fate. 
 In those cases the anxieties aroused were answered 
 at once, and fears and hopes set at rest ; in these 
 cases, too, an indication was given as to where the 
 soldier had fallen, if he was dead, so that steps could 
 be taken to m irk his burial place. 
 
 This identification of graves was carried on until the 
 end of 1914, when it ceased to be part of the duty of 
 the department, the War Office having appointed a 
 Graves Registration Commission under Brigadier- 
 General Fabian Ware. A close connexion, however, 
 subsists between the Commission and the Red Cross 
 Department. 
 
 It was an obvious step from this to instal "watchers" 
 in all hospitals. These watchers were given lists of 
 names of missing men, and it was their duty to ask 
 new patients if they knew of anything of these men, 
 to note down their answers and to forward them to 
 headquarters. 
 
 On my last visit to Boulogne I spent a morning 
 examining the organization of a hospital ship, and 
 was especially attracted to the work of a searcher 
 a Roman Catholic priest, the member of a well- 
 known family who, note-book in hand, was inter- 
 rogating group after group of the lightly wounded 
 on their way to " Blighty." He very kindly showed 
 me the result of his morning's work, and it occurred 
 to me then that the public might care to read a 
 selection of these war dramas in miniature. At the 
 end of this chapter I have appended a few that tell 
 their own story, in the official language of the reporter, 
 and also in the simple words of the bereaved. 
 
 This system formed the backbone of the whole 
 organization, and upon this system the organization 
 is based at the present day. As a system it has been
 
 136 AT THE WAR 
 
 brought to great perfection ; every fragment of 
 information is collected ; the information is sent out 
 in language which can be understood by the least 
 educated and by those who are bewildered by sorrow. 
 Moreover, testimonials to the daring and devotion 
 of the fallen are gathered, to their endurance under 
 suffering, and to the manner in which their comrades 
 risked and even lost their lives to save them from 
 suffering, death or captivity. No letter, however 
 trivial, remains unanswered ; no enquiry, however 
 difficult, is neglected. 
 
 Some of the tributes sent by comrades are docu- 
 ments of strange appeal. 
 
 " Lieutenant " wrote a private in his regiment, 
 
 44 was acting fine. The regiment went on about 
 20 yards from where he fell and took cover. Private 
 
 got permission to go back to him and take his 
 
 identity disk and his revolver." 
 
 44 Your brother," wrote another soldier, 14 was a 
 grand officer ; his men would have followed him 
 anywhere. He fell in the thick of it." And an 
 officer wrote of one of his men, 44 He was a hero ; he 
 was an example to all of us." It is not difficult to 
 understand how these simple expressions written by 
 comrades who have shared the same dangers bring a 
 measure of consolation to the fathers and mothers 
 of our heroic dead. 
 
 Each enquiry is filed separately and becomes soon 
 a dossier ; the moment any piece of information is 
 received by the Bureau it is transmitted to the friends 
 of the soldier. These dossiers are human documents 
 of fare interest which none can read unmoved ; they 
 reveal, too, in convincing fashion the extraordinary 
 amount of care and thought which is expended upon 
 the work of tracing and searching for the missing. 
 Indeed in this organization is to be found the newest 
 and noblest form of detective enterprise, as full of 
 thrills and surprises, of close deductive reasoning and
 
 A TYPICAL REPORT 137 
 
 resourceful cleverness as the memoirs of Sherlock 
 Holmes. 
 
 Here, for example, is a case selected at random 
 from among the hundreds, nay thousands, which 
 have been filed. The missing man may be called 
 Private Smith. On the 1st of October, 1915, the 
 Bureau received the following letter concerning 
 him : 
 
 I should feel most thankful to you if you could 
 possibly trace any news of my dear son reported 
 " Missing " at the Dardanelles in August. I 
 have tried myself but failed. 
 
 The enquiry was put in hand at once, and Private 
 Smith's name added to the hospital lists. But on 
 December 13th the desired information was still 
 lacking. Nevertheless it was possible to report : 
 
 Private Roberts now in hospital abroad states 
 that about 3 days after the landing they were 
 advancing across a plain to go to the first line 
 trenches when the Turks opened fire on them. 
 Our informant was with your son until they had 
 crossed the plain but did not see him fall. The 
 stretcher-bearers never found him, and it was 
 probable, therefore, that he had crawled into the 
 long grass and so got out of sight. If this 
 account is accurate it seems to suggest that your 
 son has been made a prisoner by the Turks, and 
 in this hope and belief we are continuing to make 
 every possible enquiry with regard to the matter, 
 and will at once communicate with you if any 
 further or more reassuring news comes to hand. 
 
 The reply to this letter shows how much relief it 
 brought to the boy's mother ; she wrote : 
 
 I received your welcome letter. I am very 
 grateful to you. I can assure you I shall wait 
 
 K
 
 138 AT THE WAR 
 
 very anxiously for any fresh news of my dear 
 son, who seems to have been spirited away from 
 me. 
 
 The next letter the mother received was dated 
 December 22nd. It ran : 
 
 We have received information stating that 
 Private X., who was taken to X Hospital, would 
 be able to give you information about your son. 
 
 Then on January 4th, the Bureau wrote further : 
 
 We have received another report which tends 
 to confirm the possibility of your son having 
 been taken prisoner by the Turks. Private Y 
 states as follows : " I was a machine-gun driver. 
 We were ordered to advance, to take up a fresh 
 position in the centre at Suvla Bay. The 
 sergeant and Smith got too far. Two were 
 wounded and the gun and two tripods were lost, 
 and we were ordered to retire. The ground 
 which was open was occupied by the Turks. 
 I went out again by daylight, and also by night, 
 but could find no trace of the sergeant or Smith. 
 I believe they were taken prisoners. I knew 
 
 Smith well ; he came from , was of medium 
 
 height, and clean-shaven." 
 
 The evidence seemed now to be tending to the 
 prisoner of war theory, but still a great load of 
 anxiety lay on the mother's mind. After seeing her 
 son's friend in hospital and receiving this letter, she 
 wrote : " It seems a number of people saw him up to a 
 certain point and then missed him, which leaves a 
 terrible doubt as to whether he was killed or taken 
 prisoner." 
 
 Confirmation of the reports already given was 
 received in February in the shape of another state- 
 ment, but the Bureau added : " Up to the present,
 
 A SEARCH THAT FAILED 139 
 
 however, we have not been able to obtain con- 
 firmation of these statements either from the list of 
 prisoners which have reached us so far from Turkey, 
 or from any other source." 
 
 This letter was acknowledged with deepest thank- 
 fulness. Then came a bitter blow in the shape of 
 another statement. 
 
 They were nearly surrounded. Two were 
 known to have been killed. One of them was 
 missing at the time, but was found two months 
 later in Malta. I believe he had been left for 
 dead, but eventually crawled into the Cheshire 
 lines. Another was said to have been wounded 
 in the wrist, but has disappeared and so has 
 Smith. 
 
 The outlook was now black indeed. In April, 
 after receiving a further statement, the Bureau wrote 
 to the soldier's mother : 
 
 We are afraid that there is now little chance 
 of your son being a prisoner, as we should have 
 expected to have received his name in some of the 
 lists which have reached us from Turkey. If, 
 however, there are any other enquiries you would 
 like us to make for you, you have only to let us 
 know. In the meantime we beg once again to 
 assure you of our deep sympathy in the matter. 
 
 No definite information perhaps, but how much 
 better than the utter silence which had baffled the 
 seeker before the Red Cross came to her help. At 
 least she was able to picture the last hours of her 
 gallant boy and to be with him in spirit during 
 the moments of his devotion and sacrifice. Nor 
 did the tragic courage of the words in her last letter 
 to the Bureau " I am hoping still " express in any 
 degree a diminution of the gratitude which she felt 
 and acknowledged. 
 
 K 2
 
 140 AT THE WAR 
 
 Many of these dossiers, unhappily, tell only a 
 story of sorrow ; there are other cases, however, in 
 which the miracle longed for so eagerly actually 
 happens, and the lost one is discovered. But it 
 must be remembered that appeal is not made to the 
 Bureau until the official sources have been carefully 
 canvassed and other means have failed. In other 
 words, the enquiry in most cases is directed to dis- 
 covering either in what circumstances a man came 
 by his death, or whether it is possible that he may be a 
 prisoner of war. 
 
 Another case, which affords a good illustration of 
 the kind of work being carried on day by day, was first 
 brought to the Bureau's notice in April of this year 
 by a report from the War Office that Sergeant James 
 was missing. " Anything," wrote his wife in asking 
 for help, " would be better than this awful suspense." 
 
 Some fifteen days later the Bureau was in pos- 
 session of information which left little or no doubt 
 that the poor fellow was killed. " An officer," they 
 wrote, " says that during the unsuccessful attack on 
 
 , as he himself lay wounded on the ground, 
 
 Sergeant James came up and spoke to him ; and that 
 instant the sergeant was very badly wounded in the 
 chest. The officer feared at the time that your 
 husband was killed, but just at this moment the 
 retreat was ordered and the fallen were left on the 
 spot." Further, a private gave the same account and 
 adds that " from the sudden way in which your 
 husband fell he was instantly killed. It was," he 
 declares, " within 10 yards of the German lines about 
 4 a.m., and bright moonlight. I saw him plainly ; 
 he was my own sergeant." 
 
 The poor wife, to whom the names of the in- 
 formants were given, verified the story herself in a 
 few days, and wrote to the Bureau : 
 
 Words simply cannot express my thanks for 
 the kindness and attention you have taken on
 
 LORD ROBERT CECIL'S WORK 141 
 
 my behalf. I am indeed grateful. I am posi- 
 tively sure that if it had not been for you I should 
 still be suffering in suspense. 
 
 A certificate of her husband's gallantry was after- 
 wards sent to her. 
 
 The gratitude of these stricken men and women 
 for the help given them is one of the most wonderful 
 features of this work. It is equalled in its beauty 
 only by the courage and resignation which are dis- 
 played. A poor wife who was unable to obtain exact 
 information wrote : 
 
 I am broken-hearted at having to confess that 
 I have tried my very best to find him and have 
 failed. So I shall have to place all my trust in 
 our Heavenly Father and wait. When the war 
 is over he may come back to me along with 
 others of our dear, brave men whose wives and 
 mothers have not allowed their fears to quench 
 their hope. I thank you with all my heart, 
 and I pray that God will be with you and the 
 good work you are doing. 
 
 Even more touching is this cry of pain, stifled in 
 the uttering : "I am very grateful ; but, oh it is a 
 bitter end to the long, long hoping." And this : 
 " We accept, knowing that he did his duty." 
 
 The desire for assurance that the dead man has 
 found a grave, and that his grave is being tended, is 
 also constantly being expressed, and there is a whole 
 world of pathos in the reply of a mother who had 
 received a description of her son's burial place. 
 " We are all glad to know that he lies comfortable." 
 
 It is an inspiring thought that this splendid work of 
 seeking is carried out almost entirely by voluntary 
 means. How much the success of it is due to Lord 
 Robert Cecil's early work has already been indicated. 
 
 Not less important was the work carried on by Sir 
 Louis Mallet, who during many months presided over
 
 142 AT THE WAR 
 
 the Bureau in London. Sir Louis has now resigned 
 and Lord Lucan has taken up the task. 
 
 It has sometimes been asked why this work is 
 carried out by an agency like the Red Cross and not 
 by the War Office itself. The answer is, clearly, 
 that no department of State could hope to touch 
 the human chord which gives this work its greatest 
 value. It would be wrong to expect an already 
 overworked War Office to busy itself collecting small 
 personal details, yet it is just these details for which all 
 those who have suffered the great loss yearn so wist- 
 fully. That they should have this comfort is surely 
 beyond all dispute. Who, for example, would deny 
 to a mother a letter like this : 
 
 We called him " Tom " ; he was a dear good 
 fellow. It happened on the left. I saw him 
 fall. So far as I could see, it was all over. 
 He himself said " I am done for ; go on, lads." 
 The ground where this happened was in our 
 possession when I left. 
 
 Indeed, the mother's reply furnishes the complete 
 justification for the work being accomplished. " We 
 have heard nothing more from the War Office ; only 
 that he was wounded and missing, and but for your 
 help and kindness we should still be waiting in 
 suspense." 
 
 Here are the complete dossiers : 
 
 THE DOSSIER OF PTE. J. L. D OF THE 2ND 
 
 BLACK WATCH. 
 
 I. 
 
 28th July, 1916. 
 
 Could you possibly find out for me the fate of 
 enclosed soldier, Pte. J. L. D , 2nd Black
 
 GOOD NEWS 143 
 
 Watch, Indian Expeditionary Force ? He was 
 wounded on January 21st in the Persian Gulf. 
 I am enquiring for the family. 
 
 M H . (Lady H.) 
 
 H. 
 
 llth August, 1916. 
 
 We have only received one report as to the 
 above, which we now send on to you though we 
 consider it most unlikely to be true, as Pte. 
 
 D 's name is not in any list of Turkish 
 
 prisoners yet received. The report comes from 
 
 Pte. J. R. , 2nd Black Watch, and is as 
 
 follows : 
 
 " On 21st January, 1916, in Mesopotamia I 
 
 saw D in the Turkish 1st line captured, but 
 
 trying to get away and calling out, so that he is 
 probably a prisoner of war. The English took 
 the position, but had to retire for lack of 
 reinforcements . ' ' 
 
 We are continuing enquiries in the hope of 
 gaining more satisfactory information. 
 
 To Lady H . 
 
 III. 
 
 26th September, 1916. 
 
 It is with great pleasure that we can now send 
 
 you the news that Pte. D is a released prisoner 
 
 of war and has been invalided to India. We 
 had heard nothing beyond the report sent to you 
 on the llth August, which we hesitated to believe. 
 This good news has come to us from Basra to-day. 
 
 Letters to Pte. D should be addressed 
 
 with full regimental particulars, c/o " Casualties,"
 
 AT THE WAR 
 
 Bombay, and the envelope should be marked in 
 the corner " Exchanged Prisoner of War." 
 
 We shall be greatly obliged if you will let us 
 
 know whether Pte. D 's relatives had had any 
 
 intimation that he was a prisoner of war, and 
 whether he had been able to communicate with 
 them. Such knowledge, if you can kindly supply 
 it, may be of the greatest assistance to us in 
 comforting other anxious relatives. 
 
 To Lady H . 
 
 IV. 
 
 9th October, 1916. 
 
 Pte. D 's friends have not heard from him 
 
 at all, so that they were very grateful for your 
 letter and his address. Thank you so much for 
 your kind help. 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 M- - H . 
 
 V. 
 
 13th October, 1916. 
 
 Lady H has made enquiry about my 
 
 husband, Pte. J. L. D , 2nd Black Watch. 
 
 I am very pleased to here the news of him. I 
 heard from the Office at Perth that he was a 
 released Pris. of War, and the 2nd of Oct. I 
 heard again that he as a gunshot wound in the 
 head and heel, and he is at Colaba War Hospital, 
 Bombay, India. I should like to here from him. 
 I have only had one card from him since he was 
 wounded, and that was to say he was at Bagdad. 
 The last letter he wrote was the 16th of Jan. and 
 he was wounded on the 21st Jan. so its nine 
 months he has been wounded I do hope he is 
 getting better I have only seen him once in the 
 two years and I have lost my Brother and Father
 
 AN AIRMAN'S DOSSIER 145 
 
 since he as been away so I have had a great worry 
 and I have three little chieldren so I do hope he 
 will be spared to see them again. I wonder if 
 he is too ill to write as I have not heard from him, 
 and do you think he would be able to come home 
 if he is well enough and would you be able to 
 let me know if he is badly wounded as I am very 
 anxious to know after such a long time. I 
 should be greatly oblige. 
 
 E. 13 . 
 
 VI. 
 
 16th October, 1916. 
 
 Your letter of the 13th crossed ours to Lady 
 
 H . Probably by this time you will have 
 
 received the very cheering account of your 
 husband which we have sent to her for you. 
 We told her that we had received a report through 
 
 the War Office that Pte. D was in Colaba 
 
 War Hospital, Bombay, that his wound was 
 healed and his condition good. 
 
 This will comfort you very much as he is 
 evidently progressing really well. We do not 
 know what his movements will be, but if we should 
 hear at any time that he has left India, we will 
 let you know. 
 
 With many congratulations, 
 To Mrs. E. D . 
 
 THE DOSSIER OF FLIGHT SUB-LIEUTENANT C. G. 
 OF THE ROYAL NAVAL AIR SERVICE. 
 
 I 
 To G. H. G., Esq. 
 
 July 18th, 1916. 
 
 With reference to your enquiry for Flight 
 Sub-Lt. C. G., Royal Naval Air Service, we have
 
 146 AT THE WAR 
 
 received the following report from Flight Sub-Lt. 
 E , now in hospital at Bombay, who states : 
 
 " About the 20th April, G went up carrying 
 
 food to Kut. He was attacked by a German 
 
 machine. His observer was shot dead, and G 
 
 had to land in Turkish trenches, and was made a 
 Prisoner. The Turks sent for his valise and box 
 to Orah and reported that he is well though 
 slightly wounded." 
 
 We have not received Flight Sub-Lt. G -'s 
 name on any Prisoners' List yet, but we will 
 inform you as soon as we do so. Prisoners 
 generally are not able to communicate with their 
 relations for about the first four months. 
 
 II. 
 
 July 27th, 1916. 
 
 We beg to send you a further report which we 
 
 have received about Mr. G . Our informant, 
 
 who is now in hospital at Alexandria, states : 
 
 " I saw Mr. G start on the 24th to carry 
 
 food to our chaps in Kut, taking with him as 
 
 observer, Lt. F , from the Norfolks. As 
 
 they passed over the Turkish lines they were 
 attacked by a Fritz (Turkish or German aero- 
 plane), the observer was killed and Mr. G , 
 
 who was fired at continuously, was brought down. 
 Either that day or the next, the Turks sent a 
 
 message by Flag of Truce to Commander B 
 
 that Mr. G was wounded and wanted his kit. 
 
 Everything he had was accordingly sent up stream 
 by motor boat to a place agreed on where the 
 
 Turks met it. Commander B is now at 
 
 Zanzibar, East Africa. The records have prob- 
 ably gone to England. Mr. G was a most
 
 PRACTICAL APPRECIATION 147 
 
 enthusiastic pilot, and when he could would go 
 over with food three or four times a day. It was 
 no place for seaplanes, and I remember him 
 saying the Turks would get him soon, before it 
 actually happened." 
 
 This is a more detailed account than the last 
 we sent you and tends to confirm that report, 
 and we very much hope that when we obtain 
 full lists of the prisoners in the hands of the Turks 
 we shall find his name in them. 
 
 Assuring you of our sincere sympathy in your 
 anxiety. 
 
 III. 
 
 July 28th, 1916. 
 
 I beg to thank you for your letter of yesterday's 
 date giving me much interesting information 
 regarding my son, which has been communicated 
 
 to you by A. J , R.N.A.S. You have been 
 
 most kind in all your efforts in my interest, and 
 I tender my thanks to all those who work so 
 unselfishly for others. 
 
 Will you please accept the enclosed 25 
 as a second donation to your funds from Mrs. 
 E. M. G.? 
 
 Yours faithfully, 
 
 G. H. G . 
 
 IV. 
 
 12. ix. 16. 
 
 I have much pleasure in informing you that 
 
 Flight Lt. C. B. G has been released by the 
 
 Turks. 
 
 He has cabled from Amara under date 10th
 
 148 AT THE WAR 
 
 September that he has been exchanged and is 
 well in health. 
 
 Thanking you for your kind efforts on his 
 behalf. 
 
 (jr. H. G 
 
 V. 
 
 September 14th, 1916. 
 
 We are so glad to hear that you have had a 
 cable from your son, Flight Sub-Lieutenant 
 C. G , Royal Naval Air Service. 
 
 We have also heard from our Office at Basra 
 and were on the point of writing to you to say 
 that we had heard that he was an exchanged 
 Prisoner of War from Baghdad, was quite well, 
 and sailed for India in the Hospital ship Varsova 
 on September 10th. 
 
 We do indeed congratulate you. 
 
 This, then, is a labour of love, belonging in its essence 
 to Red Cross work as that work has come to be 
 understood throughout our land. It is a labour which 
 eases the sorest wounds of warfare and which in- 
 directly brings great comfort to the fighting men 
 themselves, many of whom are haunted by the fear 
 of being numbered among the lost and so becoming 
 a source of suffering to their friends. 
 
 The British soldier needs no advertisement, but it 
 is not possible to close this chapter without placing 
 on record the great help which all ranks of the Army 
 give to the searchers for information about the 
 missing. No trouble is grudged by these men if it 
 is likely to help to relieve the burden of their com- 
 rades' womenfolk. The wounded in hospitals, indeed, 
 seem to forget their own pains on the instant when
 
 WELCOME LETTERS 149 
 
 this appeal is made to them. Many a sore heart owes 
 its consoling to the action of these splendid fellows ; 
 and many a wife and mother treasures to-day as a 
 priceless heritage the letters written by them in 
 memory of a fallen friend. " I thought perhaps you 
 might like to hear " the letters often begin, and 
 the note of apology frequently runs all through them. 
 It is the way of the British soldier ; for within the 
 breast of a hero he cherishes ever the heart of a little 
 child.
 
 LIFE IN REIMS
 
 LIFE IN REIMS 
 
 THE SIGN THAT WILL BE KEPT FOR EVER 
 
 REIMS. 
 
 As our motor sped toward the stricken town this 
 sunny afternoon, and we got our first view of the 
 two towers of the great church, we rejoiced not a 
 little that, at a distance of a mile, all looked as it 
 did before the Germans came, and when we reached 
 Reims itself there were not, at that particular entrance 
 gate, many signs of change. We were glad to be 
 away from war for a while and to see women and 
 children. For hours soldiers clad in horizon blue, 
 with their paler blue helmets, had been our only 
 companions. Mighty motor-lorries, vast collections 
 of forage wagons, travelling kitchens, automobile 
 searchlights, and the rest of the apparatus of war 
 had blocked the roads for many leagues. In the 
 city itself, except for shut shops as on Sunday, 
 and a look of desolation, our first impressions were 
 that the story of Reims had been exaggerated. 
 
 But suddenly, on our way to the cathedral, in 
 the Boulevard de la Paix, strangely named, there 
 were whole mansions down and others so mutilated 
 that they exposed the long-kept privacy of chande- 
 liered salons, bedrooms now wrecked, and hanging 
 staircases. It was in the little square in front of 
 the cathedral that we found Kultur displayed in 
 its horrid nakedness. The Archbishop's palace looks 
 like a house in Pompeii, the cathedral's face, partly 
 sandbagged, is ruined. 
 
 153
 
 154 AT THE WAR 
 
 Perhaps my readers have known and loved 
 Reims, and can recall the scene at the great 
 west entrance. There is a humble little eques- 
 trian figure of Jeanne d'Arc, carrying now in 
 her hand a French flag and decorated around 
 the plinth with many tributes from passing soldiery, 
 who have paused to note the marvel of the fact 
 that her sanctity has not been disturbed by even 
 one shell fragment. To the right of this little figure 
 of Joan the Maid and facing the cathedral is the 
 Hotel of the Lion d'Or, the front damaged, but the 
 house itself, though within a child's stonethrow of 
 the cathedral, hardly hurt. To-day the hotel, remi- 
 niscent of the happy holidays of thousands of English 
 and American tourists, bears itself bravely. There 
 were even a few daffodils in the salle a manger, and 
 there is a comfortable dug-out below stairs. There 
 was exactly one foreign visitor who shared with us 
 the excellent meal provided Mr. Frank Hedges But- 
 ler, a well-known friend of France and one of the 
 pioneers of the automobile. Here at Reims, with 
 the Huns almost within rifle shot, and in places 
 even more closely adjoining the firing line, the 
 French provide wonderful meals. 
 
 I was asked to perform one little act of justice 
 in connexion with the hotel. It is held by Mme. 
 Pfister. Her foreign-looking name gave rise to ridicu- 
 lous rumours that from the hotel signals were sent 
 to the Hun artillery whereby the hotel was spared 
 and the cathedral shelled. Mme. Pfister is French 
 and her son is in the trenches. When the golden 
 tide of English and American tourists returns every 
 franc will be needed to pay for the devastation sus- 
 tained, and no unjust slur should deprive this hotel 
 of even one possible patron. 
 
 Reims is bombarded with persistent regularity. 
 Its stricken folk are subject to attacks vastly more 
 serious than any Zeppelin raid, and so often that
 
 AN ATTRACTIVE MELANGE 155 
 
 the French communiques have ceased to report 
 them. The world outcry has saved the remains 
 of the cathedral. 
 
 Let us take a little turn in the town while the 
 guardian of the locked church is fetched. We find 
 that quite a number of people of all classes remain. 
 The old men and women that one associates with 
 war are seated in the doorways of such houses as 
 are not closed or in ruins, children play in the streets 
 their shrill and merry games, a funeral passes with 
 its little procession following. Here and there whole 
 streets are closed, while in others a superficial observer 
 would imagine that life in Reims was going on as 
 usual. Judging by the wall advertisements, there 
 seem to be some amusements, such as kinematographs. 
 There is no lack of excellent food in the shops that 
 are open. The people seem quite undisturbed by 
 the continual murmur of cannon, and indeed after 
 a few minutes one is oblivious of it. 
 
 Reims is a queer but quite an attractive melange, 
 difficult to describe. Almost everyone carries a gas 
 mask ; the men keep theirs in compact tin cases 
 slung from the wrist or attached to bicycle handle, 
 the women in various kinds of bags. These masks 
 can be bought at any chemist's and are so prepared 
 as to need merely damping with water when required. 
 The preponderance of the remaining native population 
 is, of course, feminine, mostly workgirls who work 
 in the great champagne caves, and in this matter 
 I am asked to state that the war vintage of 1915 
 is believed to be the best since 1900. Here, deep 
 down underground, thousands of women are busy 
 filling and turning the acres of bottles that are 
 arranged in the wonderful subterranean highways. 
 
 We obtained permission to descend into the famous 
 Pommery cellars, which are laid out in what are 
 really streets of wine, the whole forming an under- 
 ground city of considerable extent. Millions of 
 
 L 2
 
 156 AT THE WAR 
 
 bottles are twisted by a dexterous movement of the 
 hand each day. The process of preparing the champagne 
 which will one day sparkle on distant tables wherever 
 there is merriment is so complicated that the relatively 
 high cost of this wine can be easily understood. 
 The Remois are highly indignant at letters that 
 have appeared in the Press advocating the removal 
 of French wines from British tables. One of them 
 remarked, " There are the bombs of the Boches over 
 us by night, and one reads in our newspapers by day 
 of the economic bombs of John Bull, safe in his 
 island." 
 
 We have not time to tarry in the deep chalk 
 streets of wine, many of which are named after 
 American and English cities, such as Manchester- 
 street, Liverpool-street, New York-street, and the 
 rest, for Notre Dame is our aim. We have made a 
 long journey to see it, and we are unfortunate to 
 have found its guardian away. When we emerge 
 to the surface and to sunlight and the sound of 
 guns, we hasten to the cathedral so as to be there 
 at the appointed moment, when what remains of 
 the great window will be at its best in the setting 
 sun. We are amused, en passant, by a glimpse of a 
 real Parisian elegante, with the extremely high hat 
 of the moment, the wide skirt, and the showy boots, 
 carrying in her right hand her Pekinese and in her 
 left her gas mask, looking as though she had just 
 walked in from the Avenue du Bois. A truly re- 
 markable sex ! 
 
 The people of Reims keep the shell of the cathedral 
 strictly closed, as though to hide its humiliation 
 from such few soldier travellers in the war zone 
 as have time to pause a moment in their urgent and 
 bloody business. First, after glancing at the ruined 
 fa9ade, whose graven figures were considered one 
 of the masterpieces of their period, we pondered some 
 minutes in the remains of the Archbishop's palace.
 
 THE FAITHFUL GUARDIAN 157 
 
 We had known it in happier days. The beautiful 
 Salle du Tau, where the coronation banquets were 
 held, had a wonderful fifteenth-century chimney, 
 but nothing remains to-day of the Archbishop's 
 palace but wreckage and blackened and ruined walls. 
 Modern artillery is mathematically accurate. For 
 some fiendish reason the palace had been especially 
 chosen as an objective. It is a building of only two 
 storeys, so low as to be of no possible value as an 
 observation post. The guardian told us that over 
 a thousand shells fell therein. 
 
 We passed by a little door into the great church, 
 whose doors had been continuously open since the 
 rebuilding in 1481, and whose walls had contained 
 so much magnificence in the past. Generations of 
 affectionate guardians have seen to it that the 
 coronation place of kings was swept and garnished 
 each day. Now, save for the wild pigeons who are 
 taking up their residence and whose peaceful cooing 
 mingles strangely with the distant booming of German 
 guns, it is bereft of life. The warm scent of incense 
 is gone. The whole vast space of the cathedral, 
 which looks so much bigger than it did before so 
 much of the internal woodwork was burned, is 
 desolation itself. An attempt had been made at 
 a tidying up, and the little, old guardian who shows 
 us the ruins, indicating the obvious deliberation 
 with which various parts of the cathedral have been 
 shelled, tells us that very soon all will be restored 
 and well. He has the absolute confidence of prac- 
 tically every Frenchman we met that the barbarians 
 will soon leave France. He tells us with delight 
 that the famous tapestries, which will be remembered 
 by all, were taken away at the first news of the 
 invasion of the Huns and are safe, as is also, we 
 found afterwards, the beautiful Church of St. Remi. 
 
 Many people ask about the glass of Reims and 
 what has happened to it. Much of it is gone. A
 
 158 AT THE WAR 
 
 great deal of it is passing over the world in fragments 
 as souvenirs. Set in the aluminium rings made in 
 the trenches from German fuzes, the blue glass is 
 difficult to distinguish from sapphire. 
 
 As the moment came for saying farewell to Notre 
 Dame the great rose window over the main portal 
 illuminated the whole church. Partly because half 
 of it is destroyed, the light came in strongly, and 
 as the sun sank a fierce beam lit up a horrible discolor- 
 ation on the stone pavement. " That," said our 
 guide with much feeling, " is the burnt blood of the 
 wounded Germans who had sought refuge in the 
 cathedral and who were done to death by their 
 own incendiary shells. That sign we shall keep for 
 ever as a warning to the world of the danger of Hun 
 ferocity."
 
 BEFORE VERDUN
 
 BEFORE VERDUN 1 
 
 THE TRIUMPH OF FRANCE 
 
 BEFORE VERDUN, March 4. 
 
 WHAT is the secret motive underlying the German 
 attempt to break the French line at Verdun, in which 
 the Crown Prince's Army is incurring such appalling 
 losses ? Is it financial, in view of the coming war 
 loan ? Is it dynastic. Or, is it intended to influence 
 doubting neutrals ? From the evidence of German 
 deserters it is known that the attack was originally 
 intended to take place a month or two hence, when the 
 ground was dry. Premature spring caused the Ger- 
 mans to accelerate their plans. There were two 
 final delays owing to bad weather, and then came the 
 colossal onslaught of February 21. 
 
 The Germans made a good many of the mistakes we 
 made at Gallipoli. They announced that something 
 large was pending by closing the Swiss frontier. The 
 French, who were not ready, were also warned by 
 their own astute Intelligence Department. Their avions 
 were not idle, and, if confirmation were needed, it was 
 given by deserters, who, surmising the horrors that 
 were to come, crept out of the trenches at night, lay 
 down by the edge of the Meuse till the morning, and 
 then gave themselves up, together with information 
 
 1 This telegram (and the others) was, necessarily, written in great 
 haste and with the military censorship in view. It appeared in whole 
 and in part in more than three thousand newspapers in many languages, 
 at a moment when there was grave anxiety as to the f ate of Verdun. 
 
 161
 
 162 AT THE WAR 
 
 that has since proved to be accurate. Things went 
 wrong with the Germans in other ways. A Zeppelin 
 that was to have blown up important railway junctions 
 on the French line of communications was brought down 
 at ReVigny, and incidentally the inhabitants of what 
 remains of that much-bombarded town were avenged 
 by the spectacle of the blazing dirigible crashing to 
 the ground and the hoisting with their own petards 
 of 30 Huns therein. It is not necessary to recapitulate 
 that the gigantic effort of February 21 was frustrated 
 by the coolness and tenacity of the French soldiers 
 and the deadly curtain fire of the French gunners. 
 
 Though a great deal of calculated nonsense has been 
 sent out in official communiques and dilated upon by 
 dithyrambic Berlin newspaper correspondents as to 
 the taking by storm of the long- dismantled Fort at 
 Douaumont, nothing whatever has been admitted by 
 the Germans as to the appalling price in blood they 
 have paid since February 21 and are still paying. 
 The French losses are, and have been, insignificant. 
 I know the official figure. It has been verified by 
 conversations with members of the British, French, 
 and American Red Cross Societies, who are obviously 
 in a position to know. The wounded who pass through 
 their hands have, in many cases, come straight from 
 where they have seen dead Germans, as has been 
 described by scores of witnesses, lying as lay the 
 Prussian Guard in the first Battle of Ypres. The 
 evidence of one army as to another army's losses needs 
 careful corroboration, and I have that in the evidence 
 of many German prisoners interrogated singly and 
 independently at the French Headquarters. 
 
 Beyond this there are the careful conclusions, 
 checked and sifted, of experienced and competent 
 soldiers, who have every reason not to underestimate 
 the remaining strength of the enemy. These con- 
 clusions are, roughly, that of the German Corps 
 known to have been engaged the 3rd and 18th Corps
 
 PRISONERS 163 
 
 have been entirely used up, or " spent," as the military 
 phrase goes. The 7th Reserve Corps has lost half, 
 and the 15th Corps three-quarters, of its available 
 strengths. According to these authorities, whose 
 opinion, I repeat, can be taken as erring on the side 
 of prudence, the German forces had by the evening 
 of March 3 " used up," in addition to those already 
 mentioned, a part of the 113th Division, the 5th 
 Reserve Corps, and the Bavarian Ersatz Division, 
 without taking into account the losses of other 
 reinforcements, whose presence on the battlefield 
 has not yet been definitely ascertained. 
 
 More direct, though possibly less reliable, evidence 
 was secured by questioning closely a number of the 
 German prisoners. Among them were men from all 
 parts of the Empire, Alsatians, Pomeranians, Hessians, 
 Silesians, Prussians, Hanoverians, Bavarians, Wiirt- 
 temburgers, and Prussian Poles. All related experiences 
 identical in substance, though varying in detail. 
 
 The case of one man, belonging to the 3rd Battalion 
 of the 12th Regiment of the 5th Division of the 3rd 
 Army Corps may be taken as characteristic. On 
 the morning of February 28 this prisoner reached 
 the Fort of Douaumont and found there one battalion 
 of the 24th Regiment, elements of the 64th Regiment 
 and of the 3rd Battalion of Jager. The strength 
 of his company had been, on February 21, 200 rifles 
 with four officers. On February 22 it had fallen to 
 70 rifles, with one officer. The other companies 
 had suffered similar losses. On February 23 the 
 prisoner's company was reinforced by 45 men^ bear- 
 ing the numbers of the 12th, the 52nd, the 35th, 
 and the 205th Regiments. These men had been 
 drawn from various depots in the interior. The 
 men of the 12th Regiment believed that five 
 regiments were in reserve in the woods behind the 
 3rd Corps, but, as time went on and losses increased 
 without any sign of the actual presence of these
 
 164 AT THE WAR 
 
 reserves, doubt spread whether they were really in 
 existence. The prisoner declared that his comrades 
 were no longer capable of fresh effort. 
 
 None of the prisoners questioned estimated the 
 losses suffered by their companies at less than one- 
 third of the total effectives. Taking into account all 
 available indications, it may safely be assumed that, 
 during the fighting of the last 13 days, the Germans 
 have lost in killed, wounded, and prisoners at least 
 100,000 men. 
 
 P The profits as the soldier speaks of such matters 
 being so small, what then are the overwhelming 
 motives that impel the attack on Verdun, and the 
 chicanery of the German communiques? Is it for 
 any of the reasons I have given above, or is it an effect 
 of economic pressure which leads to the miscalcula- 
 tion that the possible taking over of the French line 
 at Verdun is a means of ending the war ? The Ger- 
 mans are so wont to misread the minds of other nations 
 that they are quite foolish enough to make themselves 
 believe this or any other foolish thing. It cannot be 
 pretended that the attack has in it anything of military 
 necessity. It was urged forward at a time of year 
 when weather conditions might prove, as they have 
 proved, a serious handicap in such matters as the 
 moving of big guns and the essential observation by 
 aeroplanes. 
 
 The district of Verdun lies in one of the coldest 
 and also the most misty sectors in the long line 
 between Nieuport and Switzerland. Changes of tem- 
 perature, too, are somewhat more frequent here than 
 elsewhere ; and so sudden are these changes that not 
 long ago here occurred, on a part of the front, one of 
 nature's furious and romantic reminders of her power 
 to impose her will. The opposing French and German 
 trenches, their parapets hard frozen, are so close that 
 they are actually within hearing of each other. 
 Towards dawn a rapid thaw set in. The parapets
 
 A GRUESOME INCIDENT 165 
 
 melted and subsided, and two long lines of men stood 
 up naked, as it were, before each other, face to face 
 with only two possibilities wholesale murder on the 
 one side or the other, or a temporary unofficial peace 
 for the making of fresh parapet protections. 
 
 The situation was astounding and unique in the 
 history of trench warfare. The French and German 
 officers, without conferring and unwilling to negotiate, 
 turned their backs so that they might not see officially 
 so unwarlike a scene, and the men on each side rebuilt 
 their parapets without the firing of a single shot. 
 
 This instance serves to illustrate the precarious 
 weather in which the Germans have undertaken an 
 adventure in the quick success of which the elements 
 play such a part. That the attack would certainly 
 prove more costly to them than to the French the 
 German Staff must have known. That the sufferings 
 of the wounded lying out through the long nights of 
 icy wind in the No-Man's Land between the lines 
 would be great did not probably disturb the Crown 
 Prince. It is one of the most gruesome facts in 
 the history of the War that the French, peering through 
 the moonlight at what they thought to be stealthily 
 crawling Germans, found them to be wounded men 
 frozen to death. 
 
 During the war, in France and in Flanders, in 
 camps and in hospitals, I have conversed with at 
 least 100 Germans. Prisoners' talk is always to 
 be accepted with great reserve, but the prisoners 
 of the Verdun campaign have so plainly horror and 
 misery depicted upon their countenances that I 
 need no other evidence as to the tragedy through 
 which they have passed. 
 
 The vast battle of Verdun might have been arranged 
 for the benefit of interested spectators, were it not 
 that the whole zone for miles around the great scene 
 is as tightly closed to the outer world as a lodge of 
 Freemasons. Furnished with every possible kind
 
 166 AT THE WAR 
 
 of pass, accompanied by a member of the French 
 Headquarters Staff in a military car driven by a 
 chauffeur whose steel helmet marked him as a soldier, 
 I was nevertheless held up by intractable gendarmes. 
 My colleague (Mr. Wickham Steed 1 ) the chief of the 
 foreign department of The Times, who assisted me in 
 the many enquiries I was presently allowed to make 
 in and about the battlefield, was detained with me at a 
 point twenty-five miles away from the great scene. 
 Even at that distance the mournful and unceasing re- 
 verberation of the guns was insistent, and, as the sentry 
 examined our papers and waited for telephonic 
 instructions, I counted more than 200 of the distant 
 voices of Kultur. 
 
 As one gets nearer and nearer the great arena 
 on which the whole world's eyes are turned 
 to-day, proofs of French efficiency and French 
 thoroughness are countless. I do not pretend to 
 any military knowledge other than a few scraps 
 gathered in some half-dozen visits to the War, but 
 the abundance of reserve shells for guns, from mighty 
 howitzers to the graceful French mitrailleuse of the 
 aeroplane, of rifle ammunition, of petrol stores, 
 and of motor-wagons of every description, was 
 remarkable. I can truly say that the volume ex- 
 ceeded anything in my previous experience. 
 
 As one approaches the battle the volume of sound 
 becomes louder and at times terrific. And it is 
 curious, the mingling of peace with war. The choco- 
 late and the pneumatic tyre advertisements on the 
 village walls, the kilometre stone with its ten kilo- 
 
 1 Mr. Steed speaks French, German and Italian as a native, knows 
 other languages sufficiently for intercourse, and does not object 
 to the voyaging vagaries of his friend, the writer of the fragments 
 that make up this book. During our Italian, Swiss, Spanish and 
 French rush in the autumn, in most part of which he was with me, he 
 tells me that our sleep average was three and a half hours in each 
 twenty-four. N.
 
 THE TOWERS OF VERDUN 167 
 
 metres to Verdun, a village cure* peacefully strolling 
 along the village street, just as though it were March, 
 1914, and his congregation had not been sent away 
 from the war zone, while their houses were filled by 
 a swarming army of men in pale blue. Such a won- 
 derful blue this new French invisible cloth ! A 
 squadron of cavalry in the new blue and their steel 
 helmets passes at the moment, and gives the impres- 
 sion that one is back again in what were known as 
 the romantic days of war. 
 
 When one has arrived at the battlefield, there 
 are a dozen vantage points from which with glasses, 
 or, indeed, with the naked eye, one can take in much 
 that has happened. Verdun lies in a great basin 
 with the silvery Meuse twining in the valley. The 
 scene is, on the whole, Scottish. Verdun, from where 
 I saw it, might be Perth, and the Meuse the Tay. 
 Small groups of firs darken some of the hills, giving 
 a natural resemblance to Scotland. 
 
 The town is being made into a second Ypres by 
 the Germans. Yet, as it stands out in the sunlight, it 
 is difficult to realize that it is a place whose people 
 have all gone, save a few of the faithful who live 
 below ground. (Ypres looked like that the first time I 
 saw it soon after the war began.) The tall towers of 
 Verdun still stand. Close by us is a hidden French 
 battery, and it is pretty to see the promptitude with 
 which it sends its screaming shells back to the 
 Germans within a few seconds of the dispatch of a 
 missive from the Huns. One speedily grows accustomed 
 to the sound and the scene, and can follow the position 
 of the villages about which the Germans endeavour to 
 mislead the world by wireless every morning. 
 
 We journey farther afield, and the famous fort 
 of Douaumont is pointed out. The storming of 
 Fort Douaumont as related by the German despatches 
 is on a par with the sinking of the Tiger and the recent 
 air bombardment of Liverpool. All the world knows
 
 168 AT THE WAR 
 
 that the Tiger is, as she was before the Germans sank 
 her in their newspapers, one of the finest ships in the 
 world, and that the air bombardment of Liverpool 
 was imagined in Berlin. The storming of Fort 
 Douaumont, gunless and unmanned, was about as 
 important, a military operation of little value. A 
 number of the Brandenburgers climbed into the 
 gunless fort, and some of them are still there, 
 supplied precariously with food by their comrades 
 at night. They are practically surrounded by the 
 French, whose Headquarters Staff regard the whole 
 incident as a simple episode in the give-and-take of 
 war. The announcement of the fall of Fort Douau- 
 mont to the world evinces the great anxiety of the 
 Germans to magnify anything concerning Verdun 
 into a great event. It should also cause people to 
 apply a grain of salt to German official communiques 
 before swallowing them. 
 
 These modern battles have now been described so 
 frequently that there is little new to be written of them. 
 Of the conflict at Verdun it can be said that on a fine 
 day and out of sight of the horrors of the hand-to- 
 hand encounters its surroundings make it a beautiful 
 battle. There is rather more bird life in this part of 
 France than in some others, and we noticed with 
 particular interest the spirit and the cheerful song of a 
 lark as it climbed skywards hard by the spot where a 
 French " 75 " was splitting the ears with its snap and 
 scream. 
 
 As we leave the battlefield and come to where is 
 the first Red Cross Station it rejoices our English eyes 
 to notice the number of English ambulances bearing 
 the inscription of the British Red Cross and the Order 
 of St. John of Jerusalem, which are allowed to aid 
 the French. It will please the miners and mine- 
 owners of Derbyshire and Nottinghamshire to know 
 that many of the wonderful carriages are of their 
 gift. The Red Cross flags that flutter pathetically
 
 THE CONVOYS 169 
 
 gay, as the cars rush along the well-cared-for road, 
 make one anxious, but a few enquiries prove that the 
 losses of the day have been inconsiderable. 
 
 As night falls we come across our first convoy of 
 the great hooded motor lorries, which my companion 
 counted by the thousand while we were on our way 
 between Paris and the Meuse. The War has reduced 
 motor transport to a science, and in no way is French 
 efficiency better demonstrated than in the manner in 
 which they have added to the carrying capacity of 
 their railways and great canals. They have utilized 
 thousands of miles of poplar and lime-lined roads for 
 mechanical transport at 15 miles an hour. On one 
 road alone we counted 20 motor convoys, each com- 
 posed of about a hundred wagons, and each group 
 indicated by some simple mark, such as a four-leaved 
 shamrock, an ace of hearts, or a comet. 
 
 Who are the men who are organizing the great 
 battle for the French side ? Let me at once say that 
 they are young men. General Pe*tain, one of the 
 discoveries of the war, till lately colonel, is still in 
 his late fifties ; most of the members of his staff are 
 much younger. One hears of luxury at Headquarters, 
 but I have not* experienced it, either at our own 
 Headquarters or at the French. General Pe"tain, 
 when I enjoyed his hospitality at luncheon, drank 
 tea. Most of his young men contented themselves 
 with water, or the white wine of the Meuse. 
 
 In the brief meal he allowed himself the General 
 discussed the battle as though he were merely an 
 interested spectator. In appearance he resembles 
 Lord Roberts, though he is of larger build. In 
 accordance with the drastic changes that the French, 
 like the Germans, are making in their Command, 
 his rise has been so rapid that he is little known 
 to the French people, though greatly trusted by 
 General Joffre and the Government. I naturally 
 did not ask his opinion on any matters connected 
 
 M
 
 170 AT THE WAR 
 
 with the War. We discussed the Australians, the 
 Canadians, the great growth of the British Army, 
 and kindred matters. 
 
 At another gathering of officers someone asked 
 whether the French would not expect the British 
 to draw off the Germans by making an attack in 
 the West. " It is questionable," replied one young 
 officer, " whether such an attack would not involve 
 disproportionate losses that would weaken the Allies." 
 The same officer pointed out that, although the cap- 
 ture of Verdun would cause great regret, owing to 
 the historic name it bears, it would not, for many 
 reasons, be more important than the pressing back 
 of any other similar number of miles on the front. 
 Forts being of little account since the introduction 
 of the big German hammers, he believed that General 
 Sarrail had said that the question was not one merely 
 of dismantling the forts, but of blowing them up. 
 As it is, whenever the Germans capture a piece of 
 land where an old fort happens to be, they will use 
 it as an advertisement. But though the French 
 officers are not looking to us, so far as I could learn, 
 for active co-operation now, they are most certainly 
 urging that when our new armies and their officers 
 are trained we shall aid them by bearing our full 
 share of the tremendous military burden they are 
 carrying. 
 
 The present attack on the French at Verdun is 
 by far the most violent incident of the whole Western 
 War. As I write it is late. Yet the bombardment 
 is continuing, and the massed guns of the Germans 
 are of greater calibre than has ever been used 
 in such numbers. The superb calm of the French 
 people, the efficiency of their organization, the 
 equipment of their cheery soldiery, convince one that 
 the men in the German machine would never be able 
 to compare with them even if France had not the help 
 of Russia, the five British nations, Belgium, Serbia,
 
 THE GERMAN LOSSES 171 
 
 Italy, and Japan. It is unsafe to prophesy about war, 
 as it is to prophesy about any other human affair, 
 but this prediction one can make, and with certainty : 
 that, whatever may be the result of the attack on 
 the Verdun sector, every such effort will result in 
 adding many more thousands of corpses to those now 
 lying in the valley of the Meuse, the numbers of which 
 are being so carefully concealed from the neutral 
 world and the Germans themselves ; and could neu- 
 trals see the kind of men whom the Germans do not 
 scruple to use as soldiers their faith in Teutonic 
 physical efficiency would receive a shock. 
 
 Unluckily a pygmy behind a machine-gun is the 
 equal of a giant. " What a pity your Highlanders 
 cannot meet these fellows in fair fight," said a French 
 officer, as we reviewed a gang 'of prisoners. "The 
 war would be over in a month." Personal contact 
 with the miserable creatures who form the bulk of 
 the German prisoners here is needed to convince an 
 observer that such specimens of humanity can really 
 have belonged to the German Army, and especially 
 to a corps d'dite such as the 3rd, or Berlin, Army Corps. 
 One ill-favoured youth hailing from Charlottenburg 
 was barely 5ft. 4in. high. Narrow-chested and peak- 
 faced, he had the quick- wittedness of the urban 
 recruit, but seemed far better fitted for his stool as a 
 railway clerk than for the life of the trenches or for 
 the ordeal of attack. Yet he had been taken at the 
 end of 1914 and sent -to Flanders after six weeks' 
 training, " educated " in trench-making for another 
 month, than left to fend for himself and his comrades 
 as a full-fledged Prussian eaglet. Like the bulk of 
 the other prisoners belonging to other units, he had 
 been withdrawn at the beginning of February from 
 the Flanders front and sent to the neighbourhood of 
 Verdun. He had known that there was to be an 
 attack, but until the order was actually given neither 
 he nor his comrades had received any hint of the pre- 
 
 M 2
 
 172 AT THE WAR 
 
 cise purpose of the operation in which he was to be 
 employed. 
 
 Of one thing he and his fellows were heartily glad- 
 to be taken away from the neighbourhood of the 
 " frightful " English and nearer to the kindly French. 
 From all the reports which these men had received 
 from their families during the last two months it 
 appears that, in the words of one of them, " there 
 reigns in Germany considerable misery." All agreed 
 that butter is unobtainable, meat scarce (except in 
 Alsace and parts of Pomerania), fat almost unknown. 
 In most respects the food of the Army was tolerable, 
 though not good or abundant. All declared that 
 enthusiasm for the war had long since evaporated, 
 though, as two of the more intelligent among them 
 maintained, the German Army does not expect to be 
 beaten, even if it no longer hopes to win. The chief 
 longing of these men, as of their families, was for 
 peace. 
 
 The only good thing about these prisoners was their 
 foot-gear. Their stout Bliicher boots were an object- 
 lesson in the necessity of tightening certain features 
 of our blockade and of adding a shortage of leather 
 to the other deficiencies of the military and civil 
 supply that are wearing down the German power of 
 resistance. 
 
 The true moral of the fighting to the north and 
 east of Verdun is that the French, with a compara- 
 tively small loss of ground, have warded off the attack 
 of armies outnumbering them originally by three to 
 one. The German order of battle on February 21 
 running eastwards from a point north of Varennes 
 comprised on the extreme German right the 7th 
 Reserve Corps, consisting of the 2nd Landwehr 
 Division, the llth Reserve Division, and the 12th 
 Reserve Division in the order named. During the 
 fighting the llth Reserve Division is understood to 
 have been relieved by the 22nd Reserve Division.
 
 Immediately before the French line to the north-east 
 of Verdun lay the 14th Reserve Division, with the 
 7th Reserve Corps and the llth Bavarian Reserve 
 Division in support. These troops were on the right 
 of what may be called the central force. Next to them 
 was ranged the 18th Corps, the 3rd Corps, the 15th 
 Corps, and the Bavarian Ersatz Division in the order 
 named, while south of Etain in the Woevre were 
 ranged the 5th Landwehr Division, the 5th Army 
 Corps, and the 3rd Bavarian Corps opposite Fresnes. 
 
 By March 3 the Germans brought up the 118th 
 Reserve Division in place of the spent units of the 
 3rd Army Corps, while the forces farther to the east 
 and south were relieved or replaced by other units 
 whose composition is not yet exactly known. 
 
 There are no means of estimating how long the 
 battle of Verdun may still rage. To say that the 
 French are confident of holding their own is not 
 enough. They feel that they have the measure of 
 the enemy, both in men and materiel. They know 
 that, given the necessary concentration of heavy 
 artillery, either side can drive the other from the first, 
 or even from the second, positions, but that, unless the 
 bombardment be followed up by infantry attacks of 
 far greater vigour and persistence than any yet 
 executed by the enemy, and unless the advance of 
 the enemy's artillery can keep pace with that of the 
 infantry, the defending force will have time to make 
 its third position practically impregnable. 
 
 This is what has happened round Verdun. To the 
 north and the north-east the first and second French 
 lines were obliterated by an intense bombardment 
 executed with guns of which the smallest were 105 mm., 
 while the bulk were 210 mm. Large numbers of still 
 heavier weapons up to 380 mm. were freely used both 
 in direct and in curtain fire. The weakness of the 
 French forces holding the first and second lines ac- 
 counts for the insignificance of the losses. Ground
 
 174 AT THE WAR 
 
 having thus been gained by the Germans to the north 
 the French evacuated voluntarily the marshy ground 
 east of the Verdun Ridges in the Woevre. 
 
 The effect of this action was threefold. It gave the 
 French a strong defensive line on high ground, it 
 prevented the formation of a dangerous salient, and, 
 apparently, it induced the Germans to believe that 
 their enemy was demoralized. 
 
 Verdun is unlikely to be taken. Nothing justifies 
 a belief that the spirit and the stamina of the German 
 forces are equal to the task of dislodging the French 
 from their present formidable positions.
 
 THE NEW LITTLE BELGIAN ARMY
 
 THE NEW LITTLE BELGIAN ARMY 
 
 HEADQUARTERS OF THE BELGIAN ARMY, 
 Friday, March 17, 1916. 
 
 THE little army that first arrested the rush of 
 the Huns, the army that gave the Allies invaluable 
 breathing time, has been fighting longer than any 
 of us. 
 
 And it is not too much to say that the world's 
 debt to Belgium has increased steadily since those 
 hectic hours at Lige and Antwerp. The United 
 States recognizes its share in the work for civilization 
 by helping to feed the six millions of Belgians 
 who are holding themselves so proudly while under 
 the immediate domination of the tyrant. 
 
 I had been with the Belgian Army soon after its 
 long series of rearguard actions. It was then suffering 
 from its great losses ; it was war weary, and it needed 
 sleep and equipment. It had never lost heart or 
 discipline. 
 
 To-day it is the same army, but renewed. It 
 has no great reserves to fall back upon, because the 
 greater part of the nation is imprisoned. The wise 
 men who administer it under the affectionate care 
 of the King have, therefore, while getting into the 
 ranks every possible available Belgian of military 
 age, wherever he may be, devoted themselves to 
 the work of refitting and reorganizing. The result 
 is a perfect little army. 
 
 Belgium is above all things fortunate in having
 
 178 AT THE WAR 
 
 a man. For beyond question one of the most vital 
 of all the forces among the Allies is the Belgian 
 Minister of War, Baron de Broqueville. For years 
 before the outbreak of hostilities The Times had 
 consistently called attention to de Broqueville's work 
 and warnings. Except for those warnings Belgium 
 would not have been in a position to offer the resistance 
 it did to the Monster. De Broqueville is fifty- 
 three and looks younger though I notice the war 
 has not left him unmarked since our last meeting. 
 He is as alive as our Mr. Hughes, and it is remark- 
 able that the views of the two men are alike. 
 
 When I arrived at the house, within hearing of 
 the guns, in which he spends alternate weeks between 
 his visits to Havre, his secretary, the young Comte 
 de Lichtervelde, had just finished reading to him 
 one of Mr. Hughes's speeches. Monsieur de Lichter- 
 velde, who knows England and the United States 
 very well indeed, makes it his duty, as part of his 
 secretarial work, to keep his chief well informed in 
 world happenings. A courier each afternoon brings 
 that same morning's Times. 
 
 M. de Broqueville, who is as good-looking and 
 well-groomed as he is alert, discussed the whole 
 of the European and world situation incisively, 
 frankly, and with a vigour and directness most 
 refreshing to one whose misfortune it is to dwell 
 within reach of the miasmic exhalations of the 
 Upas Tree of Westminster. Some of our Germano- 
 phils twit Mr. Hughes with not being an expert on 
 Germany. That charge cannot be brought against 
 M. de Broqueville, whose country knows, alas ! 
 too much of peaceful penetration by commerce, 
 capture of public opinion by subsidization, and 
 political, educational, artistic, and musical espionage. 
 And so Mr. Hughes from Australia and the Baron 
 de Broqueville from Brussels agree exactly as to 
 the Huns. Like all Belgians of the ruling class,
 
 GENERAL WIELEMANS' STAFF 179 
 
 de Broqueville is deeply grateful for British help, 
 and is a warm admirer of the steady improvement in 
 
 our Army. But I had not come to to discuss 
 
 politics or to receive compliments. My desire was 
 to revisit the soldiers with whom I had sojourned 
 after their bloodily-contested retreat against over- 
 whelming forces. 
 
 So, after gaining a great deal of extremely inter- 
 esting information which I do not propose to present 
 to the Germans, and enquiring after Mme. de Broque- 
 ville, who has remained courageously at Brussels 
 while her husband takes charge of his King's Govern- 
 ment, I made my way by road to the enchanting 
 little sixteenth-century scene where the brain of 
 the Belgian Army is installed. 
 
 Army headquarters are very much the same every- 
 where, save as to their situation. General Wielemans, 
 who is Chief of Staff of his Majesty the King, the 
 Commander-in-Chief, has very capable advisers in 
 General Biebuyck, Aide-de-Camp to the King, and 
 General D'Orjo, M. de Broqueville's Chef de Cabinet. 
 General Wielemans, who speaks English and knows 
 England well, asked me what I should particularly 
 like to see, and arranged that the next day I should 
 be taken along the Belgian trenches by Colonel 
 Detail, under Chief of Staff. 
 
 Though the shortest of the lines held by the Allies, 
 the Belgian line is, in proportion to the free Belgian 
 population, much the longest. It occupies a 
 difficult and extremely uncomfortable position, for 
 in no part of the war zone is the mud of Flanders 
 blacker and deeper than in the Belgian trenches. 
 
 I told General Wielemans that what the English 
 public would be interested to learn something about 
 is the very efficient Belgian artillery which has 
 rendered so excellent an account of itself. It 
 is no secret that Belgian preparations were not 
 such as Baron de Broqueville had for years urged,
 
 i8o AT THE WAR 
 
 but in the matter of artillery the gallant little army 
 had acquired great proficiency, doubtless partly by 
 reason of its association with those masters of the 
 gun, the French. That the Belgians are well equipped 
 with great cannon, big howitzers, 75's, and machine- 
 guns, and that every gun has a plentiful supply of 
 shells "of every description is abundantly well known 
 to Hans and Fritz on the other side of the inundations 
 and elsewhere along the Belgian front. 
 
 I asked General Wielemans if he would allow 
 me to take a quiet and unobtrusive seat in one 
 of his batteries during such time as an artillery 
 duel was timed to rage vigorously. He readily 
 assented, and I was taken by M. de Lichtervelde 
 and Colonel Detail to Lieutenant General de Ceunink, 
 who, with Major-General Orth, after some consulta- 
 tion, found me at a considerable distance a particularly 
 lively young artillery officer, whose four " pets," 
 as he called them in English, were timed to perform 
 that afternoon. - 
 
 Our way lay through ruined sixteenth -century 
 Flemish villages, where the churches in almost every 
 case had been shelled to fragments and where also 
 in almost every case the carved wooden Christ 
 (often as not of the fervent Spanish type dating from 
 Spanish times) remained, as by some miracle, un- 
 touched. 
 
 I was long loth to believe that the Germans selected 
 churches as artillery objectives, but personal examina- 
 tion of more that 100 shelled towns proves it. And 
 with the churches usually goes the churchyard ; 
 open coffins, shrouded corpses, and grinning skulls 
 show that the modern Prussian takes as much pleasure 
 in revealing the secrets of the grave as he does in 
 the destruction of his enemy's wife and child. 
 
 In one of the small ruined towns we visited, three 
 hundred of the population still remained, and will not 
 leave. An old, old man was bending over a little garden,
 
 BIRDS AND THE GUNS 181 
 
 a lusty young woman was scrubbing at a tub while 
 her little son was playing with shell fragments. The 
 whole district, every street and open place, was a 
 series of gigantic trous de marmites (shell holes), 
 filled with water, in one of which a couple of little 
 people were sailing a paper boat. There were no 
 guns or anything military whatever in the town, 
 but it was being bombarded periodically by Germans, 
 probably in reply to dexterous British artillery work 
 at Ypres. 
 
 It is a thousand pities that expert kinematograph 
 operators are not sent to these places to prove to 
 the world that German warfare, especially in these 
 later days of the conflict, is at least as much directed 
 against the civil population as against the military. 
 French gunners score a success in Champagne, and, 
 in reply, the Germans throw asphyxiating shells 
 into Reims, and so on in all the theatres of war. 
 
 I do not propose to give the least indication of 
 the situation of the battery with which I spent 
 some very interesting hours. The Huns have never 
 found it, nor, indeed, any of the French or Belgian 
 batteries I have entered. For the detective powers 
 of the aeroplane observer have been countered by 
 extraordinary ingenuity in concealment on the part 
 of artillerymen. 
 
 There was the usual dog attached to it, some 
 sort of mongrel that always seems to like to be 
 with men in dangerous places. By an ingenious 
 arrangement of barbed wire a nice large cage of 
 starlings, finches, and sparrows, who did not in the 
 least mind the guns, had been arranged ; they were 
 hopping merrily and eating well. A spring garden 
 with crocuses and primroses had been planted. 
 
 The dug-outs had all sorts of amusing names ; 
 one was called " The Virtuous Repose," and another, 
 in English, * Home, Sweet Home." The captain 
 in charge of the battery, who had been alongside
 
 182 AT THE WAR 
 
 and among the English in the early stages of the war 
 and had picked up a good deal of English, which, 
 like most Belgians, he liked to exercise, speedily 
 explained the system on which he worked his 75' s, 
 for each of which he had a pet name. He showed 
 me his map, with frequent aeroplane corrections in 
 red ink, of the enemy's position in front of him. 
 He demonstrated the extreme facility of the elevating 
 and deflecting apparatus of his four favourites. 
 He had not yet received his instructions as to what 
 was to be the programme of his day's work. They 
 would come by telephone from certain Headquarters. 
 Meanwhile, I might like to go down into his " wine 
 cellar " and see the excellent array of " bottles," 
 as he called them. 
 
 We bent low and went deep, deep into the earth, 
 and his electric torch revealed a fine display of 
 shells. Some had been made in England. There 
 were several types of shells and several kinds of 
 fuzes. " Very good bottles indeed, hein ? " he said 
 in broken English. 
 
 We came above ground again and listened to 
 the various forms of artillery that were to be heard 
 around us. '' Those," he said, asking me to listen 
 to a continuous series of salvoes, " are your English- 
 men. Plenty shells now." Miles away there was 
 the deep roar of something big, reminding me of 
 the voices of Verdun. " That," he remarked, " is 
 Belgian howitzer." The men were_ smoking and 
 waiting about, taking no notice whatever of the 
 occasional burstings of German messages that threw 
 up great clouds of mud. 
 
 Suddenly there came the ring of the telephone 
 bell, taking one for the moment quickly back to 
 London, but carrying a very different message from 
 that which one receives in one's office. 
 
 Instantaneously the men sprang down to their 
 guns, and then I saw the marvellous working of
 
 OBSERVING BY TELEPHONE 183 
 
 these 75's, whose sharp bang, bang I have heard 
 at so many points at the front. A quick order was 
 shouted as to the direction and elevation, there 
 was a slight pause, the little chamber and its Rem- 
 brandt-like faces were lit up for a moment as by 
 the flame of a smithy, a roar came that was gentle 
 after the earth-shaking at Verdun, and then silence 
 till, kilometres away, we heard our shells bursting. 
 
 The gunners were waiting to hear the telephone 
 report from the observer. Within a few seconds 
 it was received " Too short." 
 
 Another try. ' Too far " came the verdict. 
 
 At the third shot came the report, " A hit," and 
 then was revealed to me the magic of the 75. 
 
 The gun recoils so quickly that it can be stoked 
 with shells and fired, in the hands of really trained 
 gunners, with a speed most extraordinary to 
 watch. 
 
 I remember well the first time that I saw a cannon 
 fired in war. I did so with reluctance, not wishing 
 to participate even by observation in the sending 
 forth of that which would destroy life, or wound. 
 But the spectacle of these smashed towns and 
 babies' graves in France and Belgium has removed 
 any sentimental nonsense of that kind from my 
 conception of war, and so, knowing that these Belgian 
 gunners were helping to weary and destroy the 
 moral of an army that did not disdain to initiate 
 gas poisoning and the throwing of flame and even 
 vitriol, I confess to enthusiastic rejoicing at this 
 remarkable little organization that is only one of 
 hundreds the Belgians possess. 
 
 A good artillery battle reminds one very much 
 of a quick lawn-tennis volley, and in this matter 
 of artillery reply the Latins certainly are speedier 
 than the Huns. 
 
 A signal presently brought the order to cease 
 fire from this particular battery, and immediately
 
 184 AT THE WAR 
 
 afterwards a little further down the line other voices 
 spoke. 
 
 We made our way back through the mud to a 
 distant highway, and then a long walk brought us 
 to our motor, which was sheltered behind one of 
 the few walls still remaining in that district. 
 
 At a very pleasant and simple Headquarters repast, 
 Verdun, the English Fleet, and the latest wireless 
 were discussed, and then everyone went about 
 his business. Army Headquarters have settled down 
 to the regulation and prompt routine of all efficient 
 business organizations. The improved Belgian Army, 
 as regards the higher command, efficiency, equipment, 
 cavalry, infantry, artillery, and transport is, like 
 our own, the creation of nearly nineteen months of 
 war, and it is said that war is the best school for war. 
 
 Nor are the medical arrangements of the Army 
 neglected. Inspector-General Melis, who is well known 
 in England, and is a hard-headed, practical man, 
 had to deal with almost insuperable difficulties 
 when the Germans seized practically the whole of 
 the Belgian Red Cross materiel in their advance. 
 He has excellent hospitals at various points that 
 need not be mentioned, lest they tempt Hun gunners 
 unduly. There is one little English hospital which 
 I must not forget the Belgian Field Hospital. Its 
 windows rattle night and day with the vibration 
 of the guns. Its career has been one of adventure, 
 for it began life at Antwerp in September, 1914. 
 
 On the night I paid my respects the Belgian 
 Field Hospital was quite full. I found an excellent 
 Scotch doctor and matron, and a number of devoted 
 nurses, who have been with it since the day it started 
 travelling across Belgium, during the time it was 
 shelled out of Furnes, where I had seen it before, 
 and throughout all its vicissitudes. The whole estab- 
 lishment is ready, if necessary, at any moment to 
 move again.
 
 BELGIAN LOYALTY 185 
 
 Among the patients that day were a number 
 who were desperately wounded by a very common 
 form of accident. Souvenir rings from the trenches 
 are being sought for all over the world. They are 
 made of aluminium obtained from the German fuzes, 
 and unexploded fuzes are the cause of numerous 
 fatalities. 
 
 In every ward of this hospital, in every Belgian 
 dug-out, in every room I entered in the little part 
 of Belgium that is now in Belgian hands, and on 
 the table of the Minister of War and his General, 
 are pictures of the heroic King and Queen, who are 
 known by sight to every soldier in the army, and to 
 whom the whole of this very efficient Belgian force 
 is deeply devoted. 
 
 N
 
 WITH THE ITALIANS 
 
 N 2
 
 WITH THE ITALIANS 
 
 SOME TELEGRAMS FROM THE VARIOUS FRONTS 
 
 HEARING that an Italian offensive was about to 
 -commence, and having an invitation from His 
 Majesty the King of Italy, the Italian Commander-in- 
 Chief, and also from General Cadorna, his Chief of Staff, 
 I hastened from the Battle of the Somme to the 
 Italian Headquarters at Udine, and was able to arrive 
 in time for the capture of the important keystone 
 town of Gorizia. 
 
 I spent some time with the Italian Army, and 
 dispatched telegrams almost daily to my newspapers, 
 some of which are reproduced in this volume. 
 
 IN GORIZIA 
 
 GORIZIA, August 10. 
 
 To have broken bread well inside enemy territory 
 is quite a new experience in the War. 
 
 This afternoon I had an excellent Austrian meal 
 at the Grosses Caf6 in Gorizia. As recently as Tuesday 
 this despatch would have been dated Gorizia, Austria. 
 To-day, though pink and white Austrian shrapnel is 
 still bursting fitfully over the town, Gorizia is firmly 
 Italian. The hoardings are covered with German 
 advertisements, German newspapers still hang in the
 
 i 9 o AT THE WAR 
 
 racks outside the shops, but the brilliant green, white, 
 and red Italian flag with the Cross of Savoy flutters 
 from the windows of many of the beautiful villas 
 along the Corso Francesco Giuseppe. The inhabitants 
 wish that the shelling would cease, but the pro- 
 Italians wave friendly signals to the serried masses 
 of grey-clad infantry with blue steel helmets who are 
 sweeping through the delightful city on their way to 
 the conquest of the Carso. 
 
 It will please believers in the mounted arm to know 
 that cavalry are already taking part in the pursuit, 
 and are expectant of great things in the near future. 
 With the cavalry is the cavalry on wheels grey 
 armoured motor-cars which the Austrians after their 
 bitter experience of the last few days are known to 
 dread. 
 
 We entered what was till lately Austrian territory 
 at Cormons ; and, after pushing our way for an hour 
 and a half through clouds of dust raised by the out- 
 going transport of men, great guns, ammunition, and 
 food, and the incoming motors of the Croce Rossa 
 Italiana and the British Red Cross, we arrived in 
 sight of the serpentine Isonzo, the bluest of rivers. 
 Here we left our car in hiding and walked, sometimes 
 under cover, and sometimes in the open to the lower 
 bridge which the Italian engineers with wonderful 
 promptness have already repaired. On our way we 
 examined the Italian and Austrian trenches, which for 
 many long months had been within speaking distance 
 of each other. So accurate was the Italian artillery 
 fire thai, while their own trenches neatly lined with 
 steel lattice work new to me were intact, those of 
 the enemy which appear to be lined with a kind of 
 basket work, such as is often seen in Tirol were 
 almost as badly smashed as the German trenches on 
 the Somme. 
 
 On our left rose Monte Sabotino, the key to the 
 whole formidable bridgehead of Gorizia. When on
 
 FROM THE CELLARS 191 
 
 Sunday last it was taken by the Italians, its loss, 
 combined with the terrific bombardment that has so 
 sadly marred the charm of Gorizia, caused the Aus- 
 trians to flee. 
 
 There is a joyousness in accompanying a trium- 
 phant army in its progress, and a strange sense of 
 pleasure in being in the enemy's own city, which 
 he thought impregnable. Even in this part of Austria 
 Hun Kultur has left its familiar mark on archi- 
 tectural style, a mark as familiar as his advertisements, 
 familiar as his beer indeed, a soldier-waiter at the 
 cafe suggested waggishly that the suddenness of the 
 Austrian retreat was due to a scarcity of beer 
 occasioned by the hot weather. How unexpected was 
 the retreat may be gathered from the fact that among 
 the booty were many mules laden with hot rolls for 
 the " high- well-born " breakfast of the Austrian 
 Hauptquartier. 
 
 The good folk of Gorizia were plucking up courage 
 to come out of the cellars 1 as we made our way to 
 present our respects to the General Commanding the 
 victorious troops. The remarkable strategy by which 
 General Cadorna deluded the Austrians and their 
 German masters into believing that he was about to 
 attack in the Trentino some hundreds of miles to the 
 west is probably now well known in England, and how 
 he moved night after night several army corps to the 
 appointed spot, getting the last battery into position 
 half an hour before the moment fixed for the opening 
 bombardment. 
 
 No better General for the final blow on Gorizia 
 could have been selected by General Cadorna. I 
 offered him congratulations in the name of the Allies 
 and of The Times, and though worn out by continuous 
 fighting since Sunday last, and unshaven and without 
 sleep, he was prompt and alert. He said : " I hope 
 
 1 There were Italians among them who had lain concealed for 
 months with yard-long beards and^hair.
 
 i 9 2 AT THE WAR 
 
 to do better. Our front line is now several miles 
 beyond Gorizia, and the cavalry is getting to work." 
 I asked him whether the enemy had another strong 
 line this side of Trieste ; and, though his military 
 prudence precluded a positive reply, his gestures 
 revealed hopefulness. 
 
 This General's fighting record dates from the war 
 of 1870, when, 18 years of age, he volunteered to 
 fight for France under Bourbaki, and was promoted 
 officer for valour in the field. At the age of 20 he 
 entered the military service of his own country. His 
 political services have been not less distinguished. 
 For some time he belonged to the Italian Parliament, 
 urging in season and out of season the need for mili- 
 tary reform. 
 
 As we prepared to leave this very handsome tree- 
 embowered city, for the capture of which all Italy is 
 now beflagged, we were detained some time by acute 
 shelling of the Isonzo bridge the last desperate 
 attention of the retreating Austrians. It was gratify- 
 ing to notice that among the first visitors to Gorizia 
 was Mr. George Macaulay Trevelyan, in charge of the 
 British Red Cross Service. His chief anxiety was to 
 ascertain whether he would be able to get the British 
 ambulances across the damaged Isonzo bridge.
 
 II 
 
 HOW GORIZIA WAS TAKEN 
 
 ITALIAN HEADQUARTERS, August 11 
 
 THE more the Italian offensive on the Isonzo is 
 studied, the greater does its significance appear, and 
 the clearer is manifest the ability of the strategic 
 conception on which it was based. 
 
 Every great commander takes account of the 
 mental disposition of the enemy. General Cadorna 
 carefully traded upon the Austrian belief that the 
 Italian efforts would be concentrated upon the 
 Trentino front, and neglected no means of humouring 
 the enemy's fancy. The Austrians also imagined 
 that if any action were undertaken on the Isonzo it 
 would be nearer the sea from Monfalcone. In this 
 respect also General Cadorna humoured them. Then, 
 when the hour struck for the offensive against the 
 Gorizia bridgehead, the enemy found that Italian 
 artillery in overwhelming strength and masses of men 
 had been swiftly transferred from the Trentino by 
 road and rail ready to wrest from the Hapsburg 
 forces the positions on which they had worked for as 
 many years as the Germans on the Somme had worked 
 for months. 
 
 The credit for the brilliant conception naturally 
 belongs to General Cadorna, but the glory of the 
 achievement falls to the Duke of Aosta's Third Army. 
 Quivering with impatience as the bombardment
 
 i 9 4 AT THE WAR 
 
 reduced the enemy observation posts and rocky 
 redoubts on Monte Sabotino the Duke of Aosta's 
 soldiers swarmed from the saps secretly driven through 
 the rock up to within a few yards of the Austrian 
 lines and overwhelmed the foe in a mad, victorious 
 rush. In a few hours Sabotino Hill, the key to Gorizia 
 and the bridgehead, and the scene of the hardest and 
 bloodiest fighting on this part of the front since the 
 war began, was firmly in Italian hands. 
 
 Across the Isonzo and further south the long ridge 
 and summits of San Michele were simultaneously 
 carried. Details of the fighting in this sector of the 
 battlefield are still lacking, but the rapidity of the 
 progress may be judged from the reported occupation 
 of Doberdo yesterday. 
 
 Nevertheless the stout Austrian resistance on Hill 
 240, the highest summit of the Podgora ridge on the 
 west bank of the river, delayed for some hours the 
 actual assault on Gorizia. The enemy already knew 
 that Gorizia was doomed. During the night from 
 Monday to Tuesday orders were given for the evacua- 
 tion of the city, though the massive stone viaduct 
 that spans the Isonzo just north of the iron bridge 
 we crossed on Thursday was only blown up at 5.30 on 
 Tuesday morning. 
 
 The resistance of Hill 240 being at length overcome, 
 the Italian infantry, debouching from Podgora, 
 swarmed forward to the river with inimitable dash. 
 With water up to their necks, carrying their rifles 
 above their heads and shouting patriotic songs, they 
 forded the broad stream and carried the eastern bank. 
 The enemy shrapnel, which churned the water into 
 foam, failed to check their progress. Men wounded 
 in the water insisted on being helped to gain the 
 eastern bank, saying, " Then they'll not send us back." 
 
 By this time the bulk of the Austrian forces were 
 in full retreat, but the rearguard offered a stiff resis- 
 tance. The Italian guns skilfully covered the advance,
 
 THE ASSAULT 195 
 
 sweeping the approaches to the city and keeping down 
 the enemy fire. The most pleasant surprise for the 
 Italians was the comparative feebleness of the Austrian 
 fire from Monte Santo, some distance north-east. 
 Indeed, the question constantly arose, Where were 
 the Austrian guns ? Had they been hurriedly re- 
 moved or knocked out by the Italian bombardment 
 or sent to Galicia or the Trentino ? Be the explana- 
 tion what it may, the fact remains that the unexpected- 
 ness of the Italian offensive took the Austrians at 
 great disadvantage in regard to artillery, as in other 
 respects. Had Monte Santo been heavily held with 
 big guns the Italian crossing of the Isonzo and the 
 occupation of Gorizia would have been far more diffi- 
 cult and costly than they actually were. 
 
 Meanwhile the Italian batteries deluged Gorizia 
 with shrapnel. Some hundreds of civilians inevitably 
 suffered from the iron hail, while the walls of many 
 villas along the spacious Corso Francesco Giuseppe 
 are severely pock-marked. The pavements are littered 
 with broken glass and tiles. The advancing Italian 
 troops found hot work in clearing the outskirts and 
 some houses, but as soon as the task was accomplished 
 they swept on, and the tricolour was run up on the 
 principal buildings. Then masses of troops pushed 
 over the Isonzo iron bridge, which the engineers 
 smartly repaired under heavy fire. Battery after 
 battery of field artillery galloped across, some losing a 
 few horses on the way, but none faltering. Cyclists, 
 Carabinieri, and cavalry followed rapidly. 
 
 When I visited Gorizia yesterday the streets were 
 full of cavalry. I should not be surprised to hear 
 that before nightfall on Thursday a strong cavalry 
 cordon had been thrown around the whole region from 
 Gorizia southwards to Doberdo and Monfalcone. 
 
 The Austrian positions on the western bank of the 
 Isonzo presented many points of exceptional strength. 
 Under the embankment which carries the road to the
 
 196 AT THE WAR 
 
 iron bridge runs a long stone-lined tunnel connected 
 on both sides with deep communication trenches. 
 In this tunnel 600 Austrians were caught as they were 
 waiting with machine-guns to take the advancing 
 Italians in the rear. 
 
 The railway arch on the other side was also strongly 
 held. Rents and gashes in its corrugated iron roof 
 bear witness to the accuracy of the Italian fire, while 
 twisted iron girders and the railings of the iron bridge 
 over the river prove that here the Austrian big guns 
 had the range to a nicety. 
 
 The road and the battlefield on either side of the 
 river are littered with traces of the struggle. Austrian 
 and Italian entrenching tools, leather cartridge 
 pouches, hand grenades, aerial torpedoes, trench 
 mortars, broken rifles, knapsacks, and rolled blankets 
 litter the ground. 
 
 In the heat and dust of an Italian August day the 
 weight of the accoutrements which the Italian in- 
 fantryman carries into battle is apt to become intoler- 
 able. When one has trudged, lightly clad, a few miles 
 along roads ankle-deep in fine dust under the after- 
 noon sun one understands the puissant charm of the 
 neat water-tank carts that are never far in the rear 
 of the Italian advance.
 
 Ill 
 
 THE CARSO BATTLES 
 A THIRSTY DESERT 
 
 ISONZO FRONT, August 13. 
 
 OF the ferocious fighting on the Italian front little 
 is understood in England. If the figures of the 
 wounded carried by the British Red Cross ambulances 
 alone could be published, they would, perhaps, open 
 the eyes of the public. Let me select one battle 
 scene, one in which the crumbling of Austria is visible 
 even without field-glasses on the birdless, waterless 
 Carso. It is certainly the thirstiest battlefield this 
 side of Suez. It can only be compared to a gigantic 
 Shap fell or Devonshire tor. It is not unlike the 
 Arizona desert without the alkali. 
 
 As another battlefield, look at the Calvaria position, 
 on the Podgora hill outside Gorizia on the west bank 
 of the Isonzo river. Take the steepest wooded 
 hillside you know ; put the Austrians, deeply and 
 cunningly entrenched, on the top ; and realize that 
 the capture of that one hill has cost Italy 15 months' 
 bloodshed. The price was great, though the thou- 
 sand deeds of herosim which resulted in the sudden 
 flight of the Austrians should thrill generations of 
 Italians yet unborn. 
 
 These are but two of the battlefields of Italy which 
 are barely known to the outside world. They de- 
 serve to be known. 
 
 These sturdy Piedmontese, Lombards, Sicilians, 
 Neapolitans, have all fought with equal valour.
 
 198 AT THE WAR 
 
 Owing to the preoccupation of the world with the 
 rest of the war and the absence of newspaper corre- 
 spondents, the impression of the Italian forces received 
 throughout the world has been that of a dilettante 
 army. For the same reasons that at first made the 
 progress of the British Army slow, Italy is only now 
 beginning to put forth something like her real strength. 
 She has much strength in reserve. A most dis- 
 tinguished Italian officer remarked : " What we have 
 done now has been good, useful work which we could 
 have done a year ago had we had guns and ammu- 
 nition." 
 
 Yet there should be no mistake about the strength 
 of the Austrian defensive organizations. They are 
 not of the same nature as those of the Germans, 
 because the terrain here is entirely different. For 
 example, to make an impression on the rocky soil of 
 the Carso pneumatic drills and dynamite were 
 essential. The Austrian front line has been blasted 
 and drilled out of the limestone rock with machinery 
 similar to that used in making the St. Gothard and 
 Simplon tunnels. The snipers' lookouts are armoured 
 with iron plates an inch thick cemented into the 
 rock. The making of dug-outs must have required 
 the labour by night and day with drill and dynamite 
 of hordes of Croats, Magyars, Slovaks, Swabians, 
 Rumanes, and other races of the Austro-Hungarian 
 Monarchy. 
 
 I went out to see 13,000 of these stout fellows just 
 captured in this offensive. They reminded me exactly 
 of the raw, lusty labourers who used to land from 
 emigrant ships at Quebec before the war and were 
 drafted out to make the great transcontinental railways 
 of Canada. Many of them have spent some time in 
 American railroad building and speak English. Their 
 officers are very good imitations of the closely-shorn, 
 square-headed, heel-clicking Prussians in long grey 
 cloaks. Though not Prussians they fight well.
 
 A BEAUTIFUL BATTLE 199 
 
 The Austrians have had unlimited ammunition, 
 tons of which have been left behind on the battle- 
 fields. On the Carso their lines had been supplied 
 with water pumped up from various points by oil 
 engines. Food has been abundant four square meals 
 daily. They look shabby all prisoners look shabby 
 but they have invariably excellent boots, char- 
 acteristic of the Hun and his dupes. 
 
 Viewed from the mountain vantage points the 
 30-mile battle is a beautiful and grandiose scene. 
 The battle line now runs far beyond Gorizia a town 
 resembling Homburg or Baden Baden which, when 
 you get into it, is seen to be dominated by a fine 
 Schloss fitfully shelled by the retreating Austrians 
 with pink and white shrapnel. On the hillsides great 
 shells are bursting and here and there a burning 
 copse or village sends a tall column of smoke into the 
 limpid air. The sound of guns firing from con- 
 cealed positions reverberates from hill to hill on either 
 side of the Isonzo valley, while great shells which the 
 Italian soldiers call " tramcars " whiz through the 
 sunshine like enormous invisible rockets. 
 
 The whole line of battle is visibly moving forwards. 
 The Italian projectiles hourly burst a little farther 
 eastwards. The enemy is not running, but is 
 clearly retreating. The capture of Oppacchiasella 
 and Hill 121 on the Carso tells its own tale, 
 and, though strong positions like Monte Santo and 
 San Gabriele still resist to the northward, the Italian 
 advance is steady. Steady also is the inflow of 
 prisoners. Two thousand more were brought in 
 yesterday. Where will the retreat end ? Opinions 
 differ, but the matter is emphatically not one for 
 public discussion. 
 
 " It is difficult for me to express my feelings about 
 what we have seen to-day," said a distinguished young 
 officer who accompanied us and who was the first to 
 enter Oppacchiasella on Friday. " Italy needs the
 
 200 AT THE WAR 
 
 self-confidence that comes of military achievement. 
 Now she has it. It will broaden her shoulders and 
 steady her national life in every way. When I think 
 of the transformation these months of war have 
 wrought in me, who am 30, how much greater must 
 it be in all our young soldiers of 19 and 20 ! " 
 
 Italy has, indeed, done herself credit that is, 
 justice. I have described the Austrian defences. 
 The Italian are no less perfect. Line after line of 
 strongly built works, league upon league of splendid 
 roads, motor transport service, food and water 
 supply, all reveal her powers of organization. 
 
 We toiled yesterday under a burning sun along 
 miles of the rugged Carso the harsh German name 
 " Karst " seems apter for this inhospitable, rock-strewn 
 plateau, where lizards alone find life bearable past 
 where last week had been the Italian and Austrian 
 first line positions. In one night the Italian engineers 
 had hammered and hewn across the bare limestone 
 a tolerable road which to-morrow will be smooth 
 enough for motor vehicles. Warm food the excellent 
 Italian minestrone, a thick soup composed of meat, 
 vegetables, rice, and macaroni was being brought up 
 on mule back to the danger zone and carried thence 
 by hand to the firing line. 
 
 One gruesome sight in the former No Man's 
 Land between the first positions bore witness to 
 the character of the climate. We came upon the 
 remains of a human body in a kneeling posture 
 absolutely mummified by the scorching heat amid 
 the brambles, thistles, wild roses, and scraggy 
 mountain ash, which form the only vegetation in this 
 desolate region. While collecting battle souvenirs 
 for a boy friend at home I discovered that, during the 
 hot hours of the day, metal objects can only be 
 handled with difficulty. 
 
 A strange feature of the Carso are the deep, crater- 
 like depressions called doline, filled with dark brown,
 
 AUSTRIAN REVENGE 201 
 
 peaty earth, every one of which forms a natural fort. 
 The Austrian troops fortify them and build officers' 
 shelters in their sides. One such group of shelters 
 had been devastated by the Italian bombardment. 
 The occupants had fled, abandoning vast quantities 
 of ammunition, entrenching tools, whole cases marked 
 " explosive cartridges," piles of rockets, a rich 
 assortment of hand-grenades, lengths of water hose, 
 rolls of wire, and other paraphernalia of this uncanny 
 war. A pestilential odour proved that not all the 
 inhabitants of these barbaric excavations had fled. 
 Letters and relics also showed that ladies from Buda- 
 pest had been not infrequent visitors. 
 
 In nothing is the disorganization of the Austrian 
 defence more clearly revealed than in the utter 
 absence of aerial observation. During my whole 
 visit to this front I have not seen an Austrian aeroplane 
 or observation balloon. The Italian captive balloons 
 float serenely in the still air, directing the fire of their 
 own batteries, but the Austrians appear to be firing 
 blindly. The Italian heavy batteries are consequently 
 able to do their deadly work undisturbed. Their 
 shells search position after position, bursting with 
 marvellous accuracy on selected points miles ahead, 
 and crowning every ridge with dark clouds of smoke. 
 
 The enemy's bitterness of soul may be judged by 
 his behaviour. At Doberdo Russian prisoners of 
 war, who had been brought like so many of their 
 comrades to make roads for the Austrians, were 
 found hanged possibly as revenge for the escape of 
 other Russian prisoners who pluckily swam the 
 Isonzo the other day and reached the Italian lines 
 after hiding for four nights among the rocks. Italian 
 wounded were found mutilated. I have seen the 
 terrible spiked maces habitually used by the Austrians 
 to break the skulls of the wounded. Equally bar- 
 barous are the thongs with leaden balls attached to 
 sticks, which the Austrians use to coerce laggards. 
 
 o
 
 202 AT THE WAR 
 
 A specimen of these thongs found on Friday was shown 
 to me by an Italian commander of high rank. 
 
 The Austrians are inspired by fierce hatred of the 
 Italians, and their brutal conduct may well engender 
 the fury of Italian comrades of victims of such 
 ferocity. But it is very difficult to arouse lasting 
 resentment in the Italian soldatini. ' You're a 
 filthy dog," said one of them yesterday to a thirsty 
 prisoner. " Here, have a pull at my water-bottle." 
 
 Owing to the fact that so many Italian and Austrian 
 soldiers have worked in the United States and Canada, 
 it often happens that English is the only language 
 in which they can mutually converse. Yesterday 
 I saw a small band of prisoners being brought in by 
 Bersaglieri, who answered my remarks upon the 
 stout physical appearance of the prisoners by saying 
 in good New York dialect, " They can holler all right, 
 Mister," at which the prisoners grinned with evident 
 understanding. 
 
 On finding, through prisoners, that the news of 
 the Franco-British successes on the Somme and the 
 sweeping Russian advance had been kept from the 
 Austrian rank and file, and that newspapers had 
 long been withheld from the men in the Austrian 
 trenches, General Cadorna, with his customary shrewd 
 alertness, had millions of little news sheets dropped 
 from aeroplanes among the enemy. The news sheets 
 are printed in all the principal languages of the 
 Hapsburg Monarchy. On the other hand, General 
 Cadorna causes all good Italian or Allied news to be 
 telephoned along the whole Italian front line, and, 
 following the German example, he encourages the 
 circulation of newspapers among the troops. 
 
 Unfortunately the Italian public, while understand- 
 ing the immense value of our Fleet, has no idea of the 
 superb British military organization or of the vast 
 assemblage of British and Dominion troops in France. 
 I am repeatedly asked if we have yet 500,000 men in
 
 INSUFFICIENT CO-ORDINATION OF NEWS 203 
 
 France, and while great publicity is given to France 
 and Russia, I find the impression general among 
 educated classes here that our part in the war is 
 considered to be progressing unduly slowly, owing 
 to inadequate supply of trained officers. Beyond Sir 
 Douglas Haig's official communiques and occasional 
 second-hand accounts by Italian correspondents in 
 London, little is known here outside high military and 
 Royal quarters of the magnificent work done by our 
 new Armies and those of the Dominions at Fricourt, 
 Pozieres, and Longueval. 
 
 In the highest Royal and military quarters interest, 
 confidence, and admiration are warmly expressed, 
 but unluckily Italian Parliamentary and business 
 circles and the bulk of the Army know nothing of the 
 meaning of our successes and sacrifices in the Somme 
 offensive. Their eyes are concentrated on Verdun 
 and the Russian fronts. 
 
 Yet the importance of thorough mutual compre- 
 hension here is manifest. The Isonzo is, so to speak, 
 the western Balkan front. Blows struck here are 
 felt in Sofia as well as in Vienna, and should encourage 
 the Allies at Salonica as well as in Galicia. Co- 
 ordination of Allied public opinion may be as im- 
 portant as co-ordination of military effort. It is 
 essential to complete victory that each of the Allies 
 should feel towards the others the trust and admira- 
 tion which they all merit and which knowledge alone 
 can engender and maintain. 
 
 o 2
 
 IV 
 ON THE CADORE FRONT 
 
 THE " WIRE WAYS " A MOTOR DRIVE 
 IN AUSTRIA 
 
 ON THE CADORE FRONT, August 15. 
 
 ON Sunday afternoon I witnessed on the Isonzo 
 front a prolonged bombardment, at a distance of 
 5,500 yards, of a rocky cavern in which an Austrian 
 battery of mountain guns and a number of machine- 
 guns were known to be concealed. Hour after hour 
 8 in. Howitzers planted their shells within a few yards 
 of the same spot. It was bright and clear, and through 
 a powerful telescope we could pick out every individual 
 pine tree in the neighbourhood of the cavern, and see 
 great rock splinters being thrown in all directions at 
 the moment of the explosion of the shell. 
 
 This morning I am writing in brilliant sunshine 
 and several degrees of frost on the Cadore front. 
 It is not usually realized that the Italian front is 
 nearly 500 miles long. In the parched, stony wilder- 
 ness of the Carso, which I have already described, 
 the chief enemy of the fighting man is thirst. The 
 chief enemy on the Cadore front is frost. These 
 two facts should bring home some of the difficulties 
 that the Italians have faced for 15 months. 
 
 In discussing the peculiarities of the mountain 
 fighting as contrasted with the fighting on the road to 
 Trieste, his Majesty the King of Italy, who has a fine
 
 ao6 AT THE WAR 
 
 sense of words, and who has spoken English from child- 
 hood, said : " Picture to yourself my men 9,000 ft. up 
 in the clouds for seven months, in deep snow, so close 
 to the Austrians that at some points the men can see 
 their enemies' eyes through the observation holes. 
 Imagine the difficulties of such a life with continual 
 sniping and bomb-throwing." 
 
 King Victor Emmanuel's grim picture of war was 
 in such strong contrast to the tropical fighting round 
 Gorizia that I asked General Cadorna for permission 
 to come and see the fighting in the clouds. The 
 illustrated newspapers have from time to time pub- 
 lished photographs of great cannon carried up into 
 these Dolomite Alps, but I confess to having never 
 realized what it means. It had never occurred to me 
 to imagine what happens to the wounded men, or to 
 the dead. How do supplies and ammunition reach 
 these lonely sentinels of our Allies ? 
 
 I have watched great steamers arrive at our British 
 bases in France the transport of their freight by 
 train and the wonderful motor service, and then on by 
 light railways or horse vehicles. Here food for the 
 men and food for the guns go first by giddy, zigzag 
 roads, specially built by the Italians for this war. 
 They are not mere tracks, but are as wide as the Grand 
 Corniche that runs between Nice and Mentone, or the 
 Hog's Back between Guildford and Farnham. When 
 these have reached their utmost possible height there 
 comes a whole series of " wire ways," as the Italian 
 soldiers call them. Steel cables slung from hill to hill, 
 from ridge to ridge, span yawning depths and reach 
 almost vertically into the clouds. Up these cables go guns 
 and food, as well as timber for the huts, in which the 
 men live ; and material for entrenchments. Down 
 these come the wounded. The first sensation of a 
 transit down these seemingly fragile tight-ropes is 
 much more curious than the first trip in a submarine 
 or aeroplane, and tries even the strongest nerves.
 
 GIANT GUNNERS 207 
 
 Man is not only fighting man at these heights, but 
 both Italians and Austrians have been fighting Nature 
 in some of her fiercest aspects. The gales and snow- 
 storms are excelled in horror by avalanches. Quite 
 lately the melting snow revealed the frozen bodies, 
 looking horribly lifelike, of a whole platoon which had 
 been swept away nearly a year ago. 
 
 While there have been heavy casualties on both 
 sides from sniping, bombing, mountain- and machine- 
 guns, and heavy artillery, there has been little sickness 
 among the Italians. The men know that doctors' 
 visits are practically impossible. Therefore they fol- 
 low the advice of their officers. King Victor Em- 
 manuel, whose life has been passed almost entirely 
 among the troops since the beginning of the war, 
 told me, however, that despite the greatest care, 
 occasional casualties from frost-bite are impossible 
 to avoid. Yet the men have all the comforts that it 
 is humanly possible to obtain. The cloud fighters 
 are extremely well fed. Huts are provided, fitted 
 with stoves similar to those used in Arctic expeditions. 
 
 I do not know how many kinds of artillery are 
 used in these Alps. In addition to heavy guns there 
 are guns carried on mules and guns partly carried by 
 mountain artillerymen huge fellows whose weight- 
 carrying capacity entirely puts into the shade that 
 of the Constantinople hamels, or porters. When 
 Queen Margherita arrived at Gressoney some years 
 ago, four Alpine gunners presented arms with the 
 guns of a battery. They are cheery fellows, not a 
 little proud of their strength, and with backs like bulls. 
 
 Higher yet than the mountain fighting line stand 
 the vedettes, sentinels and outposts whose work re- 
 sembles that of expert Alpine climbers. They carry 
 portable telephones, with which they can communicate 
 with their platoon. The platoon in turn telephones 
 to the local commander. When thinking of our own 
 brave men who have held the trenches in French
 
 208 AT THE WAR 
 
 Flanders for these two years and who now, with 
 Dominion and Oversea troops, are alongside the 
 French slowly forcing back the Germans on the Somme, 
 it is only fair that we should realize that, but for the 
 work of these Italians in weakening Germany's chief 
 ally in the mountains, on the lower ground near 
 Gorizia, in Gorizia itself, and in the Carso desert, 
 our advance would not have been possible. 
 
 Proof of the Austrian expectation of swarming 
 down on to the rich Venetian plain is afforded by 
 documents recently captured giving the names of the 
 officers appointed as governors of such important 
 Italian cities as Vicenza. 
 
 Motoring through that luscious plain yesterday, with 
 its vineyards, mulberry trees, vast expanses of ripe 
 maize, its fat pastures and abundant orchards, one 
 could but rejoice at the chagrin of these dupes 
 of the German Kaiser. They had feasted their 
 eyes from afar on this beautiful scene. They had 
 been told in an Order of the Day that the 
 good wine and fair women of Italy awaited them. 
 Many, indeed, arrived on the plain as prisoners 
 and are now quarrelling among themselves as to who 
 brought disaster upon them. It is " those verdammte 
 Magyars," say the Austrians. It is " those Austrian 
 swine," say the Magyars. 
 
 I do not know the tale of prisoners taken by the 
 Italians, but I do know that almost daily at one 
 point or another I have found " cages " of them, 
 all well-fed and not altogether displeased at being 
 at last in the promised land. 
 
 Motoring in Austria in war time is most pleasing. 
 Italy holds a good deal more of Austria than seems 
 to be understood. No fewer than 500 Austrian com- 
 munes are already under Italian administration. 
 Austrian names have been removed from the streets, 
 Hamburg-Amerika advertisements have been painted 
 over, and Odol and Sanatogen are seen no more.
 
 CORTINA 209 
 
 The black and yellow frontier posts and the Tdbak- 
 trqfiken have been done away with, and only the com- 
 fortable Austrian Gasthauser remain, though they are 
 not overcrowded as formerly with German and Aus- 
 trian tourists. If one could get permission, which I 
 confess is difficult, I know nothing more agreeable 
 than a visit to the Italian part of Austria in war 
 time. 
 
 Yesterday I was in Cortina, where doubtless 
 many readers of these lines have spent happy 
 summer holidays. The Austrian bombardment 
 seems to have ceased. Several reasons are 
 given. One is that the Austrians thought it un- 
 desirable to go on killing the relatives of 800 Cortina 
 soldiers in their ranks. Another is that the large 
 hotels are chiefly owned by Austrians and are heavily 
 mortgaged to Viennese banks. My own belief is 
 that the cessation of the bombardment, which has 
 wholly or partially smashed many hotels and build- 
 ings, is due to the slow crumbling of the Austrian 
 offensive power to which I have referred.
 
 V 
 
 FIGHTING IN THE DOLOMITES 
 TRENCHES 10,000 FEET UP 
 
 CADORE FRONT, August 16. 
 
 IN reading the steady flow of good news that has 
 followed General Cadorna's great coup de main, it is 
 important to bear in mind the several factors which 
 have rendered it possible. First among them were 
 the preparation and organization of the Italian Army, 
 which to-day is as well equipped, trained, and 
 organized as any of the Allied Armies. At the outset 
 General Cadorna's troops lacked many things. The 
 wars in Abyssinia and Libya had, indeed, taught 
 them the value of good equipment, but they had to 
 learn the requirements of modern European warfare 
 in the hard school of actual war. 
 
 Italy is now throwing herself into the land war as 
 heartily as is the British Empire. Many of her initial 
 difficulties were not unlike our own. Others are 
 peculiar to her geographical environment. The recent 
 Italian successes on the Carso would have been 
 impossible had not the mountain armies on the Tren- 
 tino and the Cadore held a very large proportion of 
 the total enemy forces, which at one moment numbered 
 at least 800,000 men. Austria is compelled to keep 
 many strong divisions on these mountain fronts lest 
 numerical weakness should expose her to the cutting 
 of some of her most important strategic railways, 
 notably the Puster Valley railway, which runs eastward 
 from the Tirolese fortress of Franzensfeste along the
 
 2i2 AT THE WAR 
 
 Drave Valley, and is even now exposed at Toblach 
 to the long-range fire of the Italian heavy guns on 
 this Cadore front. She is therefore unable seriously 
 to reinforce either the armies which are retreating 
 before the Russians or those which are falling back 
 on the waterpipes in the Carso desert. It should 
 always be remembered that the Austrians have 
 waterpipes, which they destroy as they retreat, 
 whereas the Italians are handicapped by having to 
 construct them as they advance, just as we are 
 doing on the Somme. 
 
 General Cadorna is intensely grateful to the heroes 
 fallen in this strange, deadly guerilla warfare on the 
 mountain peaks. I saw yesterday one young officer 
 with three medals for valour. In one division alone 
 40 such medals were recently distributed a sure sign 
 how General Cadorna, who is no sentimentalist, 
 appreciates the gallantry of these fighters among the 
 precipices and avalanches. 
 
 On reaching the headquarters of this division at 
 dawn I found a batch of prisoners captured in a 
 midnight battle near a Dolomite summit drawn up 
 in line. In contradistinction to the prisoners taken 
 in the Gorizia battle, they were ragged and unkempt 
 tramps. The only decent thing about them were 
 their boots, rifle, and the stout mountain staff which 
 each carried. The captors, with soldierly generosity, had 
 shared their own soup with them food such as, the 
 prisoners said, they had not tasted for six months. 
 One had a lump of Austrian military bread. It is 
 before me as I write. Dark coloured not the healthy 
 colour of rye bread hard to chew, sodden to touch, 
 evil of smell, it seems barely possible that it can 
 sustain the strength of human beings in the coming 
 terrible winter conditions of this mountain warfare. 
 
 As the sun rose the great peaks of the Dolomites 
 stood out like pink pearls, set here and there in a 
 soft white vapour. Coming through a Canadian-
 
 BATTLES FOUGHT BY NIGHT 213 
 
 looking pine forest, with log-house barracks, kitchens, 
 and canteens beneath one such peak, I was reminded 
 of Dante's lines : " Gazing above, I saw her shoulders 
 clothed already with the planet's rays." But poetic 
 memories soon faded before a sniper's bullet from a 
 very near Austrian outlook. 
 
 At one spot the Austrian and Italian barbed wire 
 entanglements were clearly visible through glasses on a 
 neighbouring summit at a height of over 10,000 feet. A 
 few yards below in an open cavern protected by an over- 
 hanging rock the little grey tents of Italy's soldiers were 
 plainly seen. It may be a consolation to our men on the 
 Somme and in Flanders to know that the war is being 
 waged here in conditions equally as dangerous as theirs. 
 
 The Italians have driven back the Austrians foot 
 by foot up the almost vertical Dolomite rock with 
 mountain, field, and heavy guns, and especially in 
 hand-to-hand and bomb fighting. Sniping never 
 ceases by day, but the actual battles are almost 
 invariably fought by night. 
 
 The only day fighting is when, as in the famous 
 capture of Col di Lana and more recently at Castel- 
 letto, the whole or part of a mountain top has to be 
 blown off, because it is impossible to turn or carry 
 it by direct assault. Tunnels, sometimes 800 yards 
 long, are drilled by machinery through the solid rock 
 beneath the Austrian strongholds, which presently 
 disappear under the smashing influence of 30 or 40 
 tons of dynamite. Then the Alpini swarm over the 
 debris and capture or kill the enemy survivors and 
 rejoice in a well-earned triumph. 
 
 One needs to have scaled a mountain side to an 
 Italian gun emplacement or look-out post to gauge 
 fully the nature of this warfare. Imagine a catacomb, 
 hewn through the hard rock, with a central hall and 
 galleries leading to a gun position 7,000 feet up. Reckon 
 that each gun emplacement represents three months' 
 constant labour with drill, hammer, and mine. Every
 
 214 AT THE WAR 
 
 requirement, as well as food and water, must be 
 carried up by men at night or under fire by day. 
 Every soldier employed at these heights needs another 
 soldier to bring him food and drink, unless, as happens 
 in some places, the devoted wives of the Alpini act 
 nightly under organized rules as porters for their 
 husbands. 
 
 The food supply is most efficiently organized. A 
 young London Italian private, speaking English 
 perfectly, whom I met by chance, told me, and I have 
 since verified the information, that the men holding 
 this long line of the Alps received special food, 
 particularly during the seven months' winter. Besides 
 the excellent soup which forms the staple diet of the 
 Italian as of the French soldiers, the men receive a 
 daily ration of two pounds of bread, half a pound of 
 meat, half a pint of red wine, macaroni of various 
 kinds, rice, cheese, dried and fresh fruit, chocolate, 
 and, thrice weekly, small quantities of Cognac and 
 Marsala. 
 
 Members of the Alpine Club know that in the high 
 Dolomites water is in summer often as precious as on 
 the Carso. Snow serves this purpose in winter. 
 Three months' reserve supplies of oil fuel, food, alcohol, 
 and medicine must be stored in the catacomb mountain 
 positions, lest, as happened to an officer whom I met, 
 the garrisons should be cut off by snow for weeks and 
 months at a time. I have already pointed out that 
 the Italians have driven the Austrians in most cases 
 by sheer hard fighting to the very tops of the peaks. 
 Unless the positions thus won were firmly held during 
 the winter they might rapidly be lost at the melting 
 of the snows. They form an essential portion of the 
 great Allied siege of Germany. Sir Douglas Haig 
 has asserted that the war is a young man's game. 
 Certainly, as far as concerns the fighting in the high 
 Alps, men above 30 are of very little use. 
 
 The experience of the Italian front brings into
 
 A WONDERFUL FAITH 215 
 
 prominence one little understood aspect of the Italian 
 character its patience, and its industry as of 
 ants. Pazienza is one of the commonest Italian 
 words. Here it is exemplified both by faith and 
 works. 
 
 Its faith is wonderful. It believes whole-heartedly 
 in the Allied cause. The men display the keenest 
 admiration for the British Army. They are hungry 
 for news of its doings. They are proud to be its Allies. 
 I repeat that the Italian newspapers, which I scan 
 daily for news from home, tell them little beyond Sir 
 Douglas Haig's communiques. Yet the Italian Press 
 possesses some of the best popular writers of our 
 time. The men in the lonely catacombs at the top 
 of the Dolomites or struggling across the thirsty 
 Carso would be consoled to know that their hardships 
 and perils are fully shared by their British brothers 
 in ar as, who side by side with the French are fighting 
 in the trenches, on the Somme, and in Flanders. 
 
 The work of our Navy is entirely understood in 
 Italy, but I repeat with emphasis that the superb 
 work of our Army needs to be made known.
 
 VI 
 
 THE GATE TO ITALY BARRED 
 ROADS VERSUS BIG GUNS 
 
 TRENTINO FRONT, August 17. 
 
 AUTUMN leaves were swirling at Asolo, a charm- 
 ing spot reminiscent of the Brownings, as we passed 
 through yesterday on the way to this front, the 
 scene of so much ghastly fighting during the Austrian 
 offensive and its repulse. 
 
 The Kaiser has sown his dragon's teeth well. All 
 through this beautiful province of Venetia are soldiers 
 drilling, soldiers marching, infantry, Alpini, cavalry, 
 motor transport, ammunition columns, big guns, 
 and field guns. Women, who look as though they 
 had walked out of Titian's pictures, are gathering 
 the third harvest. Old men and boys a hundred 
 and twenty thousand of them on this part of the front 
 alone are making and repairing the wonderful roads 
 that lead to victory. Fig, apple, peach, and olive 
 trees, vines, maize, noble villas, tall campanili, 15th 
 century fa9ades one has the impression of travelling 
 through whole picture galleries of great Venetian 
 masters. The heat in the Plain is terrific. 
 
 Climbing by the new war roads to an altitude of 
 5,000 ft., we came upon a front not unlike that of the 
 Somme, with the difference that the ground is covered 
 by a vast amount of rock and stone, even in the woods 
 were then hostile armies facing each other. Crawling, 
 in order not to draw the enemy artillery, to the edge 
 of one of these woods, which is almost as utterly
 
 2i8 AT THE WAR 
 
 destroyed as Mametz, we looked across an apparently 
 peaceful upland valley, difficult to associate with war 
 unless examined with glasses, which reveal ruined 
 houses, villages, and churches. 
 
 Here the Italians recently repulsed 360,000 Aus- 
 trians equipped with 26 batteries of 12-inch guns. 
 The fighting in this region presents, as it does on 
 every front, its own particular difficulties. Aeroplane 
 observation is both difficult and dangerous, owing to 
 the presence of vast scattered rocks, with little landing 
 space. Trenches must here, as in the Cadore and 
 Carso, be drilled by machinery and blasted. The 
 Austrians are well provided with petrol-driven 
 machine drills. With these they also excavate 
 deep caverns for hiding the guns. One lately cap- 
 tured was unusually light and strong, with a new type 
 of Mercedes engine. 
 
 What I may call the Prisoner Puzzle is accentuated 
 by the fact that the prisoners recently taken here 
 are of remarkably fine physique, unlike those I saw 
 yesterday. They are mostly Austrian-Germans, Poles, 
 and Ruthenes. 
 
 The effect of high explosive shells here is 
 unusually terrible. Splinters from the rocks and 
 stones seriously increase the efficacy of the projectile. 
 A young Italian, who at the beginning of the war 
 joined the French Army as a volunteer and was 
 wounded at Verdun, recovered and has since fought 
 here, said : " At Verdun the big shell is a big shell ; 
 among these rocks it is equal to 10 big shells." For- 
 tunately, the same applies to the Italian shells fired 
 against the Austrians, who have their own tale of 
 woe to tell. 
 
 The various sectors of the Trentino front have 
 been described more frequently and adequately than 
 any other part of the Italian line. I will not repeat 
 those descriptions, but seek to convey an idea of the
 
 THE PRICE OF HESITATION 219 
 
 problem imposed upon his soldiers by General Cadorna 
 when the great Austrian 12-inch guns suddenly 
 began last May. Against the concentration of the 
 Austrian artillery monsters and masses of infantry the 
 Italians were for the moment powerless. Though 
 holding well on both flanks, in the centre the Italians 
 were overwhelmed and their bases of supply dis- 
 organized. Could the foe be stopped before reaching 
 the Plain ? Already his shells were bursting along 
 the southernmost brow of the Sette Comuni plateau. 
 Asiago and Arsiero were taken. Schio and Vicenza 
 seemed within grasp. The problem resolved itself 
 into one of time. A few hours might turn the scale. 
 
 The full story of the rapid concentration of Italian 
 forces, the organization of fresh bases of supply, 
 including water, of which there is none on the Asiago 
 plateau, and particularly the problem of the conversion 
 of mountain mule-tracks overnight into splendid 
 motor roads cannot yet be told. When told it will 
 form one of the most thrilling chapters of the war. 
 It was roads versus big guns. Roads won. In face of 
 the strengthening of the Italian counter-pressure 
 the Austrians hesitated to bring forward their heavy 
 batteries. Hesitation proved fatal to their plans. 
 The completion of the roads enabled General Cadorna 
 to hold them, to baffle them, until the Russian offen- 
 sive prevented the Austrians from making good their 
 severe losses, and relieved the pressure on the Italians. 
 The only door into Italy was slammed in the enemy's 
 face. Now it is bolted and barred. I saw the bars 
 yesterday. They are stout. 
 
 The Italian commander who now holds the gate 
 does not under-estimate the enemy. He is a keen, 
 hard, experienced soldier, with a splendid staff. He 
 has no illusions as to the effort required, but knows 
 that the foe will be beaten. " We may knock frag- 
 ments off the Austrian mass here and there," he said, 
 
 p 2
 
 220 AT THE WAR 
 
 " but we must go on hammering until we and others 
 smash the whole block of Hapsburg concrete to 
 atoms." 
 
 On my way back from the outer edge of the wood, 
 well within the fire zone, I visited one of the Italian 
 surgical mobile hospitals with an operating theatre 
 that can be folded and carried by motor. It is used 
 only for urgent stomach and head wounds that cannot 
 bear delay or removal. A portable X-ray apparatus, 
 a motor water-wagon carrying 500 gallons, four 
 nurses, four surgeons, physicians, and orderlies com- 
 plete the equipment. During the last two months 
 240 urgent operations have been performed. The 
 hospital has 200 beds. It was given by the city of 
 Milan and works under the Italian Red Cross. 
 
 I have visited several other hospitals. All are in 
 every respect modern, well staffed, and well equipped. 
 The complete absence of flies is a remarkable feature 
 of the Italian hospitals. I wish to call attention to 
 the splendid work done by the British Red Cross 
 hospitals near Cormons, to which are attached 24 
 ambulances. This and other ambulance sections are 
 highly spoken of by the Italians, who regard the 
 British Red Cross activity as a pleasing manifestation 
 of Allied sympathy. 
 
 Lord Monson is in charge and Sir Courtauld 
 Thomson is now on a visit of inspection and is highly 
 satisfied. Much good work has also been done by 
 the Fourth Section of the British Red Cross, which 
 has a travelling X-ray car under the management of 
 two English ladies, Countess Helen Gleichen and Mrs. 
 Rollings. Owing to hard work during the battle of 
 Gorizia one car has been put out of action, but I 
 suggest the provision of another car specially con- 
 structed for mountain climbing, such as is made by the 
 Italian Fiat Company. The value of the work of the 
 Fourth Section can be gathered by the fact that as 
 many as 60 urgent cases have been radiographed, often
 
 A MODEL CENSORSHIP 221 
 
 under fire, in a single day. All the Red Cross work 
 here presents unusual difficulties, owing to the heat 
 and the lack of water. 1 
 
 What is evident here is that the whole of industrial 
 Italy is being mobilized for war, as is industrial 
 Britain, and that the Italians are as much in earnest 
 as are the British. 
 
 On this, as on other parts of the front, the horrible 
 conduct of the Austrians and Hungarians in using 
 explosive bullets and iron-spiked bludgeons for killing 
 the wounded has intensified the war feeling. Aus- 
 trians, like Germans, make reprisals for defeats in 
 the field by acts of cruelty and vandalism. Thus, 
 as a reply to the defeat at Gorizia, the Austrians 
 attempted to destroy St. Mark's at Venice. The 
 enemy here is symbolized by Francis Joseph, whose 
 portrait is often found roughly but cleverly sketched 
 on the walls or hanged in paper effigy on the lamps. 
 He is known to the Italians, not as a venerable old 
 man borne down by family sorrows, but as shrewd, 
 hard, imperious, and impervious to all family bereave- 
 ments. 
 
 In leaving the Italian Armies, I desire to point out 
 that accredited visitors are allowed to make any 
 enquiry they choose and see everything they desire, 
 and that the censorship is extremely light and strictly 
 military. General Cadorna's view is that if anything 
 is wrong it should be made known, so that it may 
 speedily be put right. Personally, I have been 
 allowed every kind of freedom. 
 
 The only regret I have felt during a rapid and 
 incomplete survey of the reawakening of the old 
 martial spirit of Italy concerns the absence of pro- 
 paganda in regard to the part that the British Empire 
 is playing. It is only by the reciprocal knowledge 
 of the achievement of each Ally that we shall get 
 
 1 The oar was provided.
 
 222 AT THE WAR 
 
 the fullest effort and enthusiasm from all. Those to 
 whom I have given information privately as to the 
 real number of our fighting men in France and else- 
 where, of our output of shells and big guns, and of the 
 successive capturing of the German colonial posses- 
 sions are astounded. Parliamentary figures giving 
 percentages carry no weight. 
 
 I have been greatly helped in my pleasant task of 
 recording a little of Italy's efforts by the kindness 
 of his Majesty King Victor Emmanuel, who is the 
 Commander-in-Chief of the Italian armies, their Excel- 
 lencies Generals Cadorna and Porro, Colonel Clericetti, 
 and Captain Pirelli, and many other officers. 
 
 Brigadier- General Delme-Radcliffe, head of the 
 British Military Mission at Italian Headquarters, 
 whose acquaintance with military Italy is probably 
 unique and who seems able to dispense with sleep 
 and is at his desk or in the field 18 hours daily, pro- 
 vided me with the most efficient assistance and 
 with information without which my work could not 
 have been done, nor my most interesting visit 
 arranged.
 
 NEUTRAL GLIMPSES
 
 THE GERMANS IN SWITZERLAND 
 
 ZURICH, SWITZERLAND 
 
 ON leaving Italy I spent some days in Switzerland 
 en route for Spain, and was able to gather a good 
 deal of miscellaneous information not without value. 
 
 At night, Zurich, the first large neutral city in 
 which I have been since the beginning of the war, 
 is as bright as London was in July, 1914. Rome, 
 too, is bright, but over the Italian capital there 
 is the indefinable atmosphere of war. 
 
 In coming up through the Swiss-Italian lakes, 
 we were at once among German tourists. At Lugano 
 we saw figures familiar enough before the war, 
 the stout, elderly German husband, followed at a 
 respectful distance by his wife in her atrocious 
 Reformkleid. It was like going back years in one's 
 life. In the train were Germans who talked loudly 
 at us, and stared in the German way. The dining- 
 car was filled with the usual German advertisements ; 
 rather amusingly some of them read to-day the 
 Hamburg-Amerika Linie with an illuminated picture 
 of one of Herr Ballin's ocean monsters on its way 
 to New York ! 
 
 It was near midnight when we reached Zurich. 
 One remembers only the German voices, the electric 
 brightness of the streets, and the familiar rushing
 
 226 AT THE WAR 
 
 of the river. But it felt like Germany. Next morn- 
 ing, as we woke after delightful sleep induced by 
 much journeying, the impression was for a moment 
 that of a nightmare. Was it Germany, or was 
 it not ? On the floor, where it had been disrespectfully 
 thrown over night, was the big eiderdown Federdecke. 
 At my right hand on the wall was a prominent 
 notice in large German type : 
 
 Die Zimmerpreise werden erhoht wenn keine 
 der Hauptmahlzeiten im Hotel genommen wird, 
 auch wenn der Preis vorher festgesetzt. 
 
 The waiter who brings the coffee speaks German 
 only. 
 
 Looking down into the sunny street at seven in 
 the morning, we see a German town alive and busy, 
 new, spick and span, like most German cities. The 
 Stadtische Strasseribahnen are packed with business 
 men. School children are pouring through the streets 
 and across the squares. There are the little girls 
 with spectacles, double pigtails and knapsacks ; big 
 boys with spectacles, socks, and bare legs ; students 
 with queer caps. 
 
 Zurich is efficient. It is obviously well managed. 
 There are almost as many " Achtung " and " Ver- 
 boten " signs as in Hanover itself. It is so efficient 
 that the little people are dragged out of their beds 
 and sent to school at seven in the morning an hour 
 when other little people in a less over-organized 
 country are prattling and bathing as children should. 
 At night they are still about at a very late hour. 
 
 All English people have a strange sensation when 
 first walking through a German neutral town in war 
 time. Little but German is heard. The old familiar 
 " Delikatessen " and " Bier vom Fass " notices in- 
 tensify the feeling. This part of German Switzerland, 
 though by no means hostile towards individual Britons 
 or, indeed, towards the Empire, is completely German.
 
 THE GERMAN-SWISS 227 
 
 In Zurich the English traveller finds himself cheek 
 by jowl with our chief enemy, for the Reichsdeutsch 
 population of Zurich is large. These " Imperial 
 Germans " are not, as a rule, offensive, and are 
 considerably more civil to the English than they 
 were before the war. 
 
 The attitude of the German-Swiss was, naturally, 
 anti-Ally at first, but it is becoming less and less 
 hostile, and, in some ways, positively appreciative. 
 These same good people of Zurich, who strike the 
 British visitor as being so German, recently besieged 
 the railway station to welcome the passing British 
 prisoners on their way to hospitable internment. 
 At some places barriers were erected to keep back 
 the crowds who assembled in thousands merely to 
 see the trains pass in the middle of the night, and 
 to cheer the newcomers. At Zurich the police were 
 powerless, and the enthusiasm for the wounded 
 British was delirious. These manifestations of Swiss 
 good-heartedness have quite obliterated from the 
 minds of British residents the memory of the rough 
 handling to which some were subjected at the 
 beginning of the war. Even those who, like The 
 Times Correspondent, were arrested and kept in 
 custody for various periods warmly recognize the 
 friendliness of the Swiss people. 
 
 The German-Swiss, I think, are puzzled about 
 the war, and especially about Verdun. On the 
 bookstalls you find side by side with more modest 
 collections of The Times and of the Continental 
 Edition of the Daily Mail, suspicious great piles of the 
 Frankfurter Zeitung, the Vossische Zeitung, the Neue 
 Freie Presse, and of all the chief German and 
 Austrian newspapers. 
 
 These same German and Austrian journals 
 and their German-Swiss contemporaries gave great 
 prominence to the Kaiser's famous February 
 despatch, in which he stated that his brave Branden-
 
 228 AT THE WAR 
 
 burgers had stormed the " fortress of Douaumont," 
 and suggested that Douaumont was a real fortress 
 commanding the ruined little city on the Meuse. 
 
 As I pointed out in a message telegraphed to The 
 Times from Verdun early in March, and reprinted 
 in this volume, Douaumont is a fort only in name. 
 Six months have now elapsed, and the German-Swiss 
 see that all the military might of their kinsmen 
 has been without avail. The French-Swiss news- 
 papers, in good Fleet-street style, are " rubbing 
 it in." They reprint the February headlines of the 
 German newspapers and passages from an eminent 
 German military critic who wrote : 
 
 Verdun is at its last gasp. Even as I write 
 our brave troops are probably quartered in its 
 houses. 
 
 The only reply from Germany is the monotonous 
 and outworn suggestion that the reduction of Verdun 
 is taking its normal course. 
 
 It should be borne in mind that the business 
 connexions and family ties between Germany and 
 German Switzerland are nearly as close as those 
 between England and Scotland. Yet some of the 
 German-Swiss newspapers are fair and give both 
 sides a hearing. This is the more remarkable, since 
 German propaganda by bribed newspaper, kinemato- 
 graph, advertisement, private letter, business threat 
 and bribe never ceases. Through her hosts of secret 
 agents Germany hears when this or that citizen of 
 German Switzerland has expressed unorthodox views. 
 Within a few hours the culprit receives a private 
 letter carefully controverting his opinions. 
 
 German methods of working upon neutrals have 
 often been analyzed, but I think the most effective 
 of them are still news-twisting and rapidity of 
 publication. In" the train between Zurich and Berne 
 one bull-necked Hun of the commercial traveller
 
 WEAK BRITISH PROPAGANDA 229 
 
 type read, too loudly to be polite, a German report 
 of the most recent North Sea " scrap," not a word 
 about which had arrived from London. As before, 
 the idea of our losses was allowed to remain in the 
 German, Austrian, and neutral mind long enough 
 to become embedded there. 
 
 Comparison with our belated Admiralty report 
 next day showed that the German communique was 
 an artful piece of lying, but the lie had a long start, 
 as in the Jutland battle matter. 
 
 Another object of the German propaganda is 
 to give the impression that affairs in Germany 
 are going on as usual. Throughout Switzerland 
 the great German steamship advertisements appear 
 as though the Atlantic were still open. The Ham- 
 burg-Amerika offices in the various towns look 
 as if nothing had changed. The Balkan-Zug (Balkan 
 Express) has flaring advertisements and time-tables 
 posted up on the walls of stations showing its route 
 '* Berlin-Budapest-Sofia-Konstantinopel." I saw one 
 of them purposely placed beside a modest announce- 
 ment of the Great Western Railway >l the route 
 for England's most historic sites and Cathedral 
 Cities." 
 
 There are some faint efforts at British propaganda. 
 They might be greatly improved upon and intensified. 
 Our " man in the street " may ask why we should 
 trouble at all about German Switzerland or Switzer- 
 land in general, but Downing- street, I imagine, 
 has reason to know otherwise. Nor would Germany 
 be putting in propaganda seven days a week unless 
 she had certain objects in view. 
 
 In French Switzerland our French Allies are rendering 
 us great services. They have organized at Geneva a 
 series of lectures upon " The Effort of the Allies " by 
 eminent French writers and statesmen. The Germans 
 have striven to undermine Swiss belief in Allied cohesion. 
 With true French insight, our friends saw that if France
 
 230 AT THE WAR 
 
 bore generous witness to what her Allies have done 
 and are doing, her assurance would carry greater 
 weight than any assurance which individual Allies 
 could give on their own behalf. The result has been 
 a series of manifestations of which the effect is not 
 confined to French Switzerland. 
 
 French Switzerland is more fervently and, as I 
 gathered at a public meeting, more vociferously pro- 
 Ally than are some of the Allied countries themselves. 
 German Switzerland is sentimentally pro-German, but, 
 as I have said, is striving to be fair. But Switzerland 
 as a whole is pro-Swiss " first, last, and all the 
 time," as the Americans say. 
 
 Of Italian Switzerland I saw little, but I gathered 
 that notwithstanding some misapprehensions, there 
 is a general feeling of relief at the knowledge that 
 the completion of the defences on the Italian side 
 of the frontier has diminished any temptation which 
 Germany may have felt to violate Swiss neutrality 
 in that direction. Switzerland is naturally afraid 
 of Germany and knows her well enough to understand 
 that no sentimental consideration would protect 
 Swiss neutrality, did a definite military advantage 
 seem obtainable. Every step taken by France or 
 Italy to deprive the Germans in advance of such 
 an advantage, therefore, enhances the security of 
 the Swiss. 
 
 Au fond des choses, I believe it is the championship 
 of the cause of little nations by England in the past 
 and by the Allies in the present that has most affected 
 the attitude of Switzerland. The war has chastened 
 her and has caused her to realize her comparative 
 helplessness. " You are becoming absolutely Ger- 
 manized," I said to a young bank manager who was 
 changing some money for me. " Not at all," he 
 replied. " We admire Germany, but her rule would 
 be too rigid for us free Republicans. We are grateful 
 to England for her protection of small nations,
 
 THE GERMAN MIND 231 
 
 but we fear Russia. We have not forgotten Russia's 
 visit of a hundred years ago." 
 
 His was a very different tone from that of a German, 
 straight from Frankfurt, with the Frankfurter Zeitung 
 in his hand, a member of the race which has made 
 Frankfurt famous. He was an elderly man, and 
 opened the conversation in fairly respectable English 
 by asking if I came from England. He proceeded 
 to show me that he knew nothing whatever about 
 the war. 
 
 I should have expected this attitude from an 
 ordinary German, but here was a Jew, a member 
 of one of the most intelligent races of the world, 
 a race that has been given quick powers of insight, 
 inference, and deduction. Yet he was convinced 
 that Germany had been basely attacked, that the 
 English Navy was paralyzed, that London was 
 almost in ruins, that England was on her last legs 
 financially and on the eve of a social revolution, 
 that Hindenburg was cunningly drawing Brusiloff 
 and the Russians on to their doom. 
 
 Nor was the man without knowledge of England. 
 He had been there twice in London once and once 
 in the Isle of Wight. He was especially loud in 
 his lamentations over our futile attempt " to starve 
 the women and children in Germany," but had 
 nothing to say when I pointed out how Bismarck 
 had treated Paris in 1870. He was also particularly 
 angry that the Swiss should be making fuzes for 
 our shells, and said that the Swiss were as bad as 
 the Americans. I explained that neutral countries 
 had often done this kind of thing and that the 
 Swiss, by the way, were making aluminium for the 
 German Zeppelins, in whose future potentialities 
 the old gentleman had infinite belief. He was espe- 
 pecially eloquent over the condition of German finance 
 and the relatively good position of the mark in 
 Switzerland.
 
 232 AT THE WAR 
 
 I asked him if he ever read the English 
 communiques, which, by the way, seem to be very 
 fully given in the German Press. He replied that 
 he did, but they were all lies. Verdun, of course, 
 was going all right. Germany, he admitted, was 
 suffering from lack of several kinds of food and 
 raw material. He confessed that he was glad of 
 the opportunity of getting a few days in such a 
 land of plenty as that in which he was travelling. 
 He thought the war would last at least till Christmas, 
 at which time France would have collapsed and 
 England would be asking to be allowed to " go 
 home," to use his own words. Germany would 
 not be ungenerous. " I am not an annexationist," 
 he added. " It will be enough if we retain Antwerp 
 and some control over the manufacturing districts 
 of France and Belgium, with freedom of the seas, 
 and big compensation for ill-treatment of the German 
 colonies, plus means to complete the direct route 
 from Antwerp, Berlin, Constantinople, and Baghdad, 
 with a port at the end of the line." 
 
 The Swiss are better informed than this. They 
 know more of the true position and hear constantly 
 of the cross-currents in Germany. Swiss workmen 
 have recently returned from Germany in considerable 
 numbers. They prefer the lower wages and the 
 full meals of Helvetia to the high pay and low diet 
 of Prussia. They have heard of the peace feelers 
 constantly thrown out, not only by the German 
 Imperial Government, but by some of the Govern- 
 ments of the Federal States. But they have not, 
 and cannot have, a clear idea of the determination 
 that animates all the Allies, and their very neutrality 
 clouds their perception of the full meaning of the 
 war. 
 
 How wide is the gulf that separates belligerent 
 from neutral countries is revealed almost painfully 
 to visitors by the presence of large numbers of young
 
 THE DEPRESSING AIR OF NEUTRALITY 233 
 
 men in the streets. In Rome there are still some, 
 but they are going daily. In Paris there are none. 
 Thus when one comes first to a neutral country 
 the great space which youth occupies in the social 
 landscape is instantly revealed. The departure of 
 our youth for camp and battlefield is part, a large 
 part, of the price we are paying for our freedom ; 
 but it is a singular fact that, despite the presence 
 of young men, the atmosphere of neutrality is 
 depressing. 
 
 When passports have been examined at the French 
 frontier stations, and the familiar light blue uniforms 
 once more predominate, one will breathe again. 
 In these great days the breath of war is the breath 
 of life, and the spirit of sacrifice is the spirit of 
 regeneration.
 
 II 
 
 OUR RELEASED PRISONERS 
 HAPPY AS SCHOOLBOYS 
 
 MURREN, SWITZERLAND 
 
 THE topsy-turveydoms of war are many. 
 
 Just after the Battle of the Marne I witnessed the 
 curious spectacle of a number of slightly-wounded 
 brawny Highlanders exchanging remarks with the 
 passers-by from the windows of one of the most ex- 
 clusive hotels in the world, the Bristol, at the corner 
 of the Place Vendome, in Paris, long the resort of 
 Kings and others of high degree. 
 
 To-day, here at Miirren, in the most beautiful spot 
 in all Switzerland, I am watching two British blue- 
 jackets looking through a telescope at a distant eyrie, 
 in which a couple of young eaglets can be plainly 
 seen, the great parent birds wheeling and swooping 
 like a pair of more graceful aeroplanes. 
 
 The bluejackets, with between four and five hun- 
 dred officers and men of his Majesty's Army, are 
 prisoners of war, interned here, and interned, I may 
 say, in the very lap of luxury. 
 
 Accompanied by Colonel Picot, ex-Military Attache 
 to our Legation in Switzerland, we set out early this 
 morning on one of the most delightful motor rides 
 imaginable, through the Bernese Oberland, by Thun, 
 its towering schloss and emerald lake, to Lauter- 
 brunnen. Tirol itself affords no greater delights to 
 the eye. All is German, of course ; the inns, 
 Gasthauser zum Loewen, Adler, and the like, and the 
 
 338 Q 2
 
 236 AT THE WAR 
 
 motor signs : " Achtung ! " and the very necessary 
 14 Achtet auf die Kinder " for the roads swarm with 
 flaxen-headed tots. 
 
 J^Here and there are the unexpected contrast of 
 French poilus, in their bleu d'horizon, fishing, flirting, 
 strolling in groups, or cycling, but generally fishing, 
 and with greater result than in the Seine or the lac 
 in the Bois de Boulogne, for they hold up to us great 
 trout, pike, and " omble chevalier "the last a fish new 
 to me. 
 
 These are the French interned prisoners in 
 Switzerland. Unlike our men, who are at present 
 chiefly at two centres, Chateau d'Oex and Miirren, 
 the French are scattered in little companies throughout 
 the Oberland. There are one-eyed, one-legged, and 
 one-armed men, but they have all escaped from the 
 Horror. 
 
 Presently we come to Interlaken, and soon at 
 Lauterbrunnen we take the steep mountain railway 
 up to this delectable assemblage of hotels and chalets, 
 in which our soldiers, broken in the war, are being 
 rapidly restored to health by the healing air and sun- 
 shine of these higher Alps. 
 
 Colonel Neish received us at the little station, and 
 in a few minutes we are in the midst of as great a war 
 contrast as can be imagined. 
 
 Almost everyone knows Murren, but for those who 
 have not that pleasure I will say that it is on a little 
 plateau, immediately facing what many people regard 
 as the most beautiful mountain in Europe, the Jung- 
 frau. Within view are the Wetterhorn, the Eiger, 
 the Monch. 
 
 By an arrangement with the Swiss Government, 
 who have behaved as kindly to our poor men as have 
 the Swiss people themselves which is saying a great 
 deal the soldiers who were taken at Mons and at 
 Le Cateau, at Loos, and some even more recently, 
 are housed in the very best mountain hotels and
 
 TOMMY IN LUXURY 237 
 
 chalets in Switzerland. The men only arrived at 
 Murren last week, and have not yet settled down to 
 freedom. Many of them still wear the strange look 
 noticeable in those who have got out of Germany. 
 Numbers can hardly yet realize that they are free, and 
 more than one remarked that when he awoke in the 
 morning in his comfortable bedroom, and gazed out 
 upon the brilliant sunshine on the snowy expanses 
 opposite, he feared it was but a dream. 
 
 For the whole of the general arrangements we have 
 to thank Colonel Hauser, the Swiss P.M.O. Murren 
 and its region is in charge of a young Swiss medical 
 officer, Captain Llopart. Our prisoners, of course, are 
 under Swiss discipline, and OUT officers and non- 
 commissioned officers only hold their rank by courtesy 
 of the Swiss authorities. So far this extremely delicate 
 arrangement has worked admirably. 
 
 Colonel Neish, who looks and says he feels like a boy 
 out of school, after his long imprisonment, escorted 
 me at once to the Swiss officer in command, and we 
 then made an inspection of the village. Inasmuch 
 as most of the hotels and chalets have been built for 
 winter sports visitors from England, they are quite 
 new. And if there be any more sumptuously housed 
 privates in the British Army in any other part of the 
 world, I should be greatly surprised. 
 
 A man from hateful Wittenberg was lying in a deck- 
 chair on the sunny verandah outside his bedroom, to 
 which was attached the very latest type of private 
 bathroom. There was a bowl of roses and edelweiss 
 and a box of Woodbines by his side. He was getting 
 stronger, he said, as he stood to attention and saluted 
 Colonel Neish and Captain Llopart. By his bedside 
 I noticed a photograph of the wife and children at 
 home, and he had abundance of books and English 
 newspapers. 
 
 His surroundings are typical of all those at Murren. 
 Nothing can be too good for our soldiers, and at
 
 238 AT THE WAR 
 
 Murren, and also at CMteau d'Oex, of which I ob- 
 tained full accounts from English visitors, the best 
 that modern hotels-de-luxe can give is given them. 
 Flowers, sleep, sunshine, and happiness are every- 
 where. 
 
 The officers are housed separately, as are, of course, 
 the non-commissioned officers. All the hotels are 
 on the same scale of comfort, and there is therefore 
 no difference of treatment. 
 
 At Chateau d'Oex work is in full swing, and the 
 little colony at Murren is already settling down into 
 some form of discipline. When they first arrived, 
 such as were able to walk clambered up and down 
 the rambling mountain paths, shouting and singing 
 like children on a school treat. They could with 
 difficulty bring themselves to believe that they were 
 free. Lately brothers in affliction, all were now en- 
 joying the first taste of liberty, and liberty in the 
 nearest approach to an earthly paradise that can be 
 found in Europe. 
 
 Organization is steadily growing. Tailor soldiers 
 have started a tailor shop. There is a library, in 
 charge of a sergeant, and a barber's establishment. 
 All who are able are beginning to help in such matters 
 as waiting, washing up, and domestic assistance 
 generally. The meals are exactly the same as those 
 served to summer and winter visitors at Swiss moun- 
 tain resorts. For breakfast : coffee, rolls, and honey. 
 A substantial mid-day dinner of the best : good 
 Swiss soup, roast mutton, roast beef, plenty of veget- 
 ables and fruit, plain puddings and compotes. For 
 supper : bread, cheese, jam, and everything in un- 
 limited quantities. The men need it. Some are 
 increasing in weight at a rate that seems almost 
 incredible. All who are able to be out in the healing 
 sunshine are getting sunburnt. There seems to be 
 little desire for alcohol among them, but they can 
 purchase, if they will, the light Swiss beer with which
 
 A GERMAN OFFICER AND GENTLEMAN 239 
 
 many of us have quenched our thirst in our holiday 
 climbs. 
 
 Happiness is contagious. One of the most pleasing 
 moments in my recent very varied itinerary is this 
 day among the prisoners of Miirren. Each has his 
 own tale to tell of life in Germany, and each will 
 remember as long as he lives. It is not the immediate 
 policy of the British Government to emphasize Ger- 
 man cruelties, and so I will not repeat the innumerable 
 stories I have heard. 
 
 The particular sailormen at Miirren do not appear 
 to have been badly used in Germany. One young 
 bluejacket from the Hebrides told me in his Highland 
 accent that his life in Germany " might have been 
 better and might have been worse." An engineer 
 from the Appam, captured by the Moewe, said that 
 the captain of the Moewe was a thorough sportsman 
 and a gentleman, and that his treatment in Germany 
 had been fair. It is not wise to generalize, but from 
 the conversations I have had with sailors at Miirren, 
 it would appear that, in their case, at any rate, differ- 
 ent treatment was dealt out to sailors. 
 
 I heard other good things about Germany too. 
 Among the many acts of self-sacrifice of the war is 
 that of the distinguished Liverpool dental surgeon, 
 Mr. J. A. W. Woods, who has given up his practice 
 and come out to Miirren to look after the prisoners' 
 teeth. He told me that several of his patients had 
 had good dental attention in Germany, and that in 
 some cases false teeth had been given them. Of other 
 cases the less said the better. 
 
 For games there is a bowling alley, and such officers 
 as are able to play have put the lawn tennis courts 
 in order. But at the present time most of them are 
 more inclined to laze and read and get well. Many 
 are veritable Rip Van Winkles. Entirely shut off 
 from news in Germany, except such fragments as 
 they received from more recently arrived prisoners,
 
 340 AT THE WAR 
 
 they even now know practically nothing of what has 
 happened since they were captured, and when I 
 asked if there was any kind of reading they would 
 care to have, the invariable reply was that they wanted 
 histories of the war, especially those with illustrations. 
 These I have arranged that they shall receive as 
 speedily as possible. 
 
 As our interned men recover health, the question 
 of their employment in Switzerland will become pres- 
 sing. The whole subject is indeed fraught with 
 difficulties, which are being solved as they arise, 
 by the energy, knowledge, and tact of Colonel Picot, 
 than whom a more suitable selection could not have 
 been made. A British officer of world-wide experi- 
 ence and, as I said, late Military Attache* to our Lega- 
 tion, he understands the views of the Swiss and also 
 those of our own men. The question is complicated 
 by the fact that while so many of the Swiss factories 
 are making munitions, it is forbidden, of course, 
 that British or German soldiers interned in Switzer- 
 land should take part in such work. The Swiss 
 Labour leaders, who naturally guard their own 
 interests jealously, do not desire that the local labour 
 maiket should be disturbed by what may prove to 
 be an army of invading workers. The matter has 
 already been dealt with in a special article in The 
 Times, and I would merely say that at present the 
 decision as to whether a man should or should not be 
 allowed to enter a factory is decided by a local com- 
 mittee on which sit masters and men. 
 
 For the moment, I repeat, the great object is to 
 get our prisoners well, and to that end Colonel Hauser 
 and Colonel Picot work untiringly. 
 
 The Swiss peasants in this part of the country are 
 well accustomed to English people. They have had 
 summer incursions of our tourists for years, and the 
 winter sports have lately taken us there in great 
 numbers, In a way, our internes constitute a material
 
 A SUGGESTION THAT SUCCEEDED 241 
 
 boon to districts which have hitherto lived almost 
 entirely on visitors. Our men are free with their 
 money, and as many of the little shops are open, 
 quite a trade is being done in lace, picture post-cards, 
 and the usual souvenirs that tempt the shilling from 
 the pocket. 
 
 To help the men to get well, English, French, and 
 Swiss visitors come to amuse them, and those officers 
 and men who are fit enough are helping with concerts, 
 theatricals, and dances. Colonel Neish has told me 
 that much is due to Mr. Lunn, who, twice rejected 
 for military service at home, is doing good work in 
 bringing peace of mind and of body to the lately 
 released captives. 
 
 Up till now, at Murren the novelty of the varying 
 aspect of the Alps is almost sufficient entertainment. 
 Perhaps not half-a-dozen of the men have ever been 
 in real mountains before, and they are much surprised 
 when told of the great distances separating them from 
 points which in this clear atmosphere seem but a few 
 miles away. They spend much of their time peering 
 through glasses and telescopes at the glaciers and 
 peaks. The blood-red sunset effect on the Jungfrau, 
 famous throughout the world, has amazed them. 
 
 The officers are hoping, when they get well enough, 
 to bag a chamois or two. The eyrie of the eagles to 
 which I have referred is as great a pleasure to the 
 local mountaineers as to our men, for they say that 
 eagles long ago disappeared from this part of Switzer- 
 land. They look upon their return as a lucky omen. 
 It is attributed by some among them to the Italian- 
 Austrian bombardment of the Dolomites, but I am 
 not learned in eagle lore, and merely give this state- 
 ment for what it is worth. 
 
 Has the Murren rose a thorn ? For some of the 
 men it has. Some 17 per cent, of them are married. 
 The wives of some of the interned officers have already 
 come out to stay with their husbands. The French
 
 242 AT THE WAR 
 
 soldiers have their wives with them. It is too 
 much to expect that the Canadians, of whom there 
 are a number, should be able to transport their wives 
 from the other side of the Atlantic. But the words 
 " I want to look upon my wife's face again " very 
 sadly and earnestly spoken by one of the Old Army, 
 one of the heroes of Mons, were echoed in every hotel 
 and chalet I inspected. 1 
 
 The cost of bringing out the wives on a visit is but 
 12 each. Dare I suggest that, if Mr. Lloyd George 
 and the Treasury do not see their way to a very 
 trifling precedent, the British Red Cross Society 
 should satisfy this earnest wish of those who, in the 
 national cause, have been through the hell of the 
 trenches and the bottomless pit of the German prison 
 camps ? 
 
 1 Charitable people at home at once provided the needed funds, 
 and at the time of writing parties of wives are being escorted to 
 Switzerland by British Red Cross Society representatives.
 
 Ill 
 
 FOOD FOR OUR MEN IN GERMANY 
 
 [The fine work described in this chapter has now 
 been partly superseded by Sir Starr Jameson's great 
 organization. I retain my description of it in justice 
 to those who did such great service for our prisoners 
 during many long months.] 
 
 BERNE 
 
 MUCH that I heard at Miirren induced me to make 
 a few enquiries on the fringe of the great question 
 of the lot of our prisoners now languishing in the 
 hands of the enemy. It is an admittedly difficult 
 subject which has not yet been thoroughly grasped 
 and dealt with by the Government, even after more 
 than two years of war. But from the prisoners' 
 point of view one aspect of the problem is simple 
 enough. What they want and appreciate more than 
 anything else in their life of captivity is Bread. 
 
 Both in The Times and in the World's Work 
 my colleague of The Times, Gerald Campbell, 
 has given many interesting particulars of the steps 
 taken to meet this need by the British Section of 
 the Bureau de Secours aux Prisonniers de Guerre, 
 an admirable organisation established at Berne by 
 Lady Grant Duff, the gifted wife of the (then) British 
 Minister. The importance of the work and the call for 
 its further development are, however, alike so great 
 that it seems to me a matter of real national 
 interest to return to it once again.
 
 244 AT THE WAR 
 
 The question of remittances of clothes, bread 
 and other foods, and money is in so many hands 
 at home that while it is more than possible that 
 certain of our friendless prisoners in Germany get 
 nothing, others, as I gather from statements made 
 to me by released men at Murren, get so much that 
 they sell gifts, exchange them, or otherwise dispose 
 of them to their guardians. 
 
 Bread is sent in large quantities direct from 
 England. The released men with whom I conversed 
 prefer the bread baked at Berne under the watchful 
 eye of the president of the Bureau, her honorary 
 secretary, an American gentleman, Mr. P. Grand 
 d'Hauteville ; and Mr. and Mrs. Jebb Scott, honorary 
 managers of the actual Bread Depot of this vast 
 development. 
 
 The Berne bread reaches Germany more quickly 
 and arrives in a better state than that from England. 
 In appearance it resembles good French pain de 
 manage. It keeps, according to one of my informants, 
 in wholesome condition for at least three weeks. 
 I personally partook of it, both new and old. One 
 Tommy criticized it as being too full of holes 
 " like Gruyere cheese," he said but it is this very 
 aeration that maintains its sweetness. Our soldiers 
 in Germany call it " Burn " bread, this being their 
 pronunciation of Berne. Most of them will remember 
 with gratitude the name of the Swiss capital for the 
 rest of their lives. 
 
 Owing to the fact that private donors are sometimes 
 sending bread and sometimes forgetting to send 
 it, and that there are numbers of excellent organiza- 
 tions at work in England apparently in ignorance 
 of each other's operations, there is a certain amount 
 of overlapping. There would be much more were 
 it not for the practical and business-like system of 
 the Berne Bureau, the energies of which are mainly
 
 FROM TWO TO ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY 245 
 
 devoted to checking and re-checking the various 
 lists as they arrive from England. 
 
 The entire staff, which commenced rather more 
 than a year ago with two people, now numbers 
 160 workers, paid or voluntary. For our prisoners 
 in Bulgaria and Turkey, who are also dealt with by 
 the Bureau staff which includes our able Military 
 Attache", Lieutenant-Colonel W. F. G. Wyndham, 
 M.V.O., Mr. R. J. A. Clarke, and Mr. L. Buchman, 
 late Consul-General at Munich special biscuits are 
 baked, resembling a species of rusk or Zwieback. 
 
 There being no surplus of flour in Switzerland 
 the prisoners' bread is made from a weekly supply 
 of fifty tons, which by courtesy of the Swiss Govern- 
 ment the Bureau is allowed to import from Marseilles. 
 In this matter the Swiss have again behaved well. 
 The Post Office, which carries the parcels, letters 
 and post-cards, charges nothing for the service, nor 
 do the railways for the carriage of the flour and the 
 loaves and other parcels which go to Frankfurt. 
 The German Government also carries these parcels 
 free, a concession which is perhaps not to be wondered 
 at since our national generosity relieves them of a 
 great responsibility. 
 
 The chain of operations is as follows : First, 
 regimental committees or members of the public 
 in all parts of the Empire send cheques or postal 
 orders to the secretary of the organization, addressed 
 to 50, Thunstrasse, Berne. The donors should send 
 the names of the prisoners, with their regimental 
 numbers, rank, and regiment, and the name of the 
 camp or hospital in Germany, Bulgaria, or Turkey 
 in which they are interned. Money-orders are a 
 source of trouble to the organization, and it is especi- 
 ally requested that only cheques or postal-orders 
 should be sent. Once the money has been received, 
 for each sum of 4s., 4 Ib. of bread are forwarded weekly
 
 246 AT THE WAR 
 
 for a month, strongly and neatly packed in ventilated 
 cardboard " cartons." The bread reaches the prisoner 
 sometimes within two or three days, and it rarely 
 takes more than six days. A receipt post-card is 
 enclosed in each parcel, and an advice postcard 
 informing the prisoner that the bread has been 
 dispatched and giving, if desired, the name of the 
 person from whom it comes, is posted separately. 
 From the replies received it is calculated that ninety- 
 eight per cent, of the bread arrives safely and in 
 good condition. At the present moment about 25,000 
 parcels of bread and other comforts of life are sent 
 from Berne weekly to nearly 20,000 prisoners. 
 
 Personally, from things I have heard, I should 
 be inclined to send help specially to " friendless " 
 prisoners in Germany men whose names are not 
 included in any private or regimental list. Anyone 
 who wishes to provide for prisoners of this class- 
 there is a wide choice of British, Canadians, Aus- 
 tralians, or Indians is requested by the Berne 
 people to apply to one of the regimental committees 
 at home ; in all cases the Bureau has found that it 
 is more satisfactory to deal with these committees 
 than with individuals. 
 
 How great is the need for bread was demonstrated 
 to me by a released prisoner, who showed me the 
 daily German bread ration that he had received. 
 The specimen, which measures 6 in. long, 2 in. wide, 
 and 2 in. thick, will be sent to England, where it 
 will doubtless form a piece of propaganda in that 
 man's part of the country for many a long year. 
 He informed me, by the way, that the fifty-two 
 disloyal members of the Irish Brigade are getting 
 bread, despite their favoured treatment by the enemy. 
 
 It is not only bread, however, that goes from 
 Berne. Here is a list of parcels which the Bureau 
 de Secours undertakes to send direct to British 
 prisoners of war in Germany on receipt of the necessary
 
 STANDARD PARCELS 
 
 247 
 
 funds. Parcels are standardized, and the cost and 
 contents are as follows : 
 
 PABOEL B. 4s. 
 
 PARCEL A. 4s. 
 
 1 Alp milk chocolate 
 1 condensed milk 
 1 jam 
 1 cheese 
 
 1 block chocolate 
 
 2 packets tobacco 
 2 packets citrol 
 
 2 handkerchiefs or 
 1 hand towel or 
 1 housewife 
 1 tin Liebig 
 
 PABOEL C. 6s 
 
 1 day shirt 
 1 vest 
 
 1 underdrawers 
 1 pair socks 
 
 1 towel 
 
 2 handkerchiefs 
 1 wash rag 
 
 1 soap 
 
 1 toothbrush 
 
 1 tooth-powder 
 
 A combined parcel of food and clothing, A and 
 C or B and C, is dispatched for 105., or special parcels 
 can be sent. 
 
 For Bulgaria and Turkey there are three separate 
 parcels, one of clothing, one of food for invalids, 
 and another general parcel, containing food, tobacco 
 or cigarettes. 
 
 The prisoners, in general, can themselves communi- 
 cate with Berne and ask what they choose. I find 
 that their chief requests are cheese, unsweetened 
 tinned milk, butter, eggs, fruits, and vegetables, 
 and, of course, tobacco. 
 
 Lady Grant Duff's gallant little organization has 
 had all sorts of difficulties to face. There are short- 
 ages in neutral countries as well as in the countries 
 
 lb. tea 
 
 1 condensed milk 
 
 lb. lump sugar 
 
 1 jam 
 
 lib. biscuits 
 
 1 block chocolate 
 
 6 Maggi soups 
 
 1 packet tobacco 
 
 1 towel 
 
 PABOEL D. 6s. (Fos INVALIDS. 
 
 lib. tin condensed milk 
 
 lib. cocoa 
 
 |lb. sugar 
 
 lib. Quaker oats 
 
 lib. cod liver oil capsules 
 
 1 box extract of malt or ovo- 
 maltine, or Mellin's Food 
 (according to special require- 
 ments)
 
 248 AT THE WAR 
 
 at war. In Switzerland they lack string, cardboard, 
 and many essentials, and the provision of these 
 necessaries is quite an undertaking in itself. 
 
 I spent an interesting morning watching the pre- 
 paration and testing of the bread, the opening of the 
 mail from England containing the cheques and 
 postal-orders and the 160 regimental lists, and finally 
 the moving sight of the packing of the precious bread 
 and its dispatch to our lonely war victims in Ger- 
 many. 
 
 I could not help contrasting in my mind a visit 
 I paid some time ago to a certain camp in England. 
 Some of the Berne bread was going to Ruhleben, 
 where our civilians have been for two years housed 
 in a manner that has been graphically described 
 by the American Embassy representatives. 
 
 The Germans in our hands are, in my personal 
 opinion, treated with unnecessary and wasteful com- 
 fort. Their only deprivation is liberty. They are 
 not at all grateful for their treatment. A German- 
 Swiss gentleman who understands the Prussian 
 character a great deal better than our powers-that-be 
 told me that he knew that Prussia regards the 
 indulgence of her prisoners in England as a sign of 
 fear on the part of our Government, and that she 
 considers that we are vainly trying to buy off Zeppelin 
 raids and submarine piracy by ostentatious pampering 
 of her people. A released English officer who had 
 spoken to a German officer prisoner who had got 
 home to Germany from Donington Hall stated that 
 the German had the impertinence to try to persuade 
 him that life in an officers' prison camp in Germany 
 was exactly on a par with that at Donington Hall. 
 He was absolutely ungrateful for the kindly treatment 
 that he had received.
 
 IV 
 GENEVA 
 
 PROPAGANDA TRICKS 
 
 GENEVA 
 
 MUCH valuable information can be gathered at 
 Geneva in regard to the two important questions of 
 prisoners and propaganda 
 
 Here are the headquarters of the old original Red 
 Cross, founded in 1863. It would be impossible in 
 anything less bulky than a fat quarto to deal with its 
 innumerable energies. From Geneva radiate the 
 communications on the subject of casualties, prisoners, 
 their help, their finance, to every part of the theatres 
 of war. The official title of the great Geneva organiza- 
 tion is the " Comit6 International de la Croix Rouge." 
 At the central office are some 300 assistants, voluntary 
 and other, English, French, German, Austrian, Swiss, 
 working under the same roof and labouring to do their 
 best for the afflicted, their relatives and friends. 
 
 The extent of part of the work can be gauged from 
 the fact that on certain days there are as many as 
 15,000 communications passing from one belligerent 
 country to another through the office alone. Geneva 
 is probably the chief centre of postal communication 
 between Germany and England. 
 
 The important task of receiving and correcting 
 the lists of prisoners is carried on here under a system 
 that is as business-like as the management of a London 
 bank. Some idea of the difficulties with which the 
 
 249 rt
 
 250 AT THE WAR 
 
 Geneva workers are faced can be deduced from the 
 fact that there are already no fewer than 6,000 pris- 
 oners of war of the name of Martin, a common 
 patronymic both in England and in France. 
 
 The Comite* International is not merely a passive 
 machine. It goes out of its way to search for news 
 of the killed, wounded, and missing. If, for example, 
 it notices in the German communique that an airman 
 has been brought down, it communicates with the 
 German authorities through the German Red Cross at 
 Frankfurt or Berlin and asks for the name and fate 
 of the airman and his observer. The German authori- 
 ties in this and other matters relating to prisoners are 
 prompt and not unkind. They supply Geneva, for 
 example, with a neat form giving a full account of 
 any prisoner who has died in their hands, with a note 
 from priest or pastor describing his last moments. 
 The lists of prisoners in their hands are forwarded 
 punctually and are legibly written. 
 
 At the moment of my visit, the latest English list 
 of German prisoners arrived by registered post from 
 the Prisoners of War Information Bureau, 49, Welling- 
 ton-street, London. It is pleasant to record that it 
 was a model of care and accuracy and is so regarded 
 by the Swiss authorities. Geneva people, indeed, 
 say that there is little to choose in this matter between 
 the promptitude and activity of the English and 
 Germans. 
 
 The appeals that reach the Comite International 
 from all countries are heartrending. Owing to the 
 violent nature of modern warfare, the number of 
 permanently missing is greater than in previous wars. 
 Soldiers are buried by shell and mine explosions, 
 others are permanently entombed in their dug-outs, 
 and at the Battle of the Marne, for example, it is 
 believed that many who have never been heard of 
 were drowned. The Geneva and other organizations, 
 including the extremely efficient one in connexion
 
 MIXED GENEVA 251 
 
 with the British Red Cross Society, are ceaseless in 
 their endeavours to trace every possible missing man. 
 
 Apart from the business-like accuracy of the whole 
 establishment, it is evident that the strictest neutrality 
 is maintained by the ladies and gentlemen who con- 
 duct this great Swiss undertaking. All the various 
 languages used by the belligerents are to be heard 
 about the building, and the interests of every country 
 involved are doubtless well looked after, if such a 
 precaution be necessary. 
 
 The list just arrived from England was explained 
 to me by a young Swiss gentleman who was so ob- 
 viously from Oxford that I asked him at which college 
 he had been, to which he replied " The House." None 
 the less, he was strictly neutral in the conduct of 
 his department, whatever be his private views of 
 the war. 
 
 Before the great struggle, Geneva was one of the 
 largest centres for English residents on the Continent. 
 A number still remain, but the whole character of the 
 town has changed. At the moment, it is one of the 
 most curious congeries of human beings in Europe. 
 In the course of a single day I encountered Young 
 Turks and Old Turks, Egyptian " Nationalists," 
 Rumanians, Greeks, Serbs, and Germans and Austrians. 
 Some of the latter, not only here but elsewhere in 
 Switzerland, are deserters from Germany and Austria. 
 
 The local name for these oddments of humanity is 
 meteques. A number of the temporary inhabitants 
 are waiting to know to what nationality they belong, 
 as, for example, refugees from Trieste, who do not feel 
 certain whether they will remain Austrians or become 
 Italians. 
 
 The Genevois themselves are almost to a man 
 fervently pro-Ally. Several spoke very strongly 
 of our neglect to combat German propaganda. 
 France took the matter in hand a long time ago, 
 and one of the ablest French journalists, Stephane 
 
 n 2
 
 252 AT THE WAR 
 
 Lauzanne, editor of Le Matin, after a due period of 
 military service, was sent to Switzerland, where he 
 has done excellent work. 
 
 A distinguished French-Swiss explained the situa- 
 tion to me in the following words, which I noted at 
 the time : 
 
 The English should realize that Swiss military 
 officers are, in the proportion of about three to 
 one, pro-German, because they admire German 
 military organization, because some of them have 
 German kinsmen, have had German military 
 training, or have married Germans. They recog- 
 nize that Germany has perhaps under-estimated 
 her task. The German Government, in order to 
 create the impression in Switzerland that Ger- 
 many is doing all the fighting, has made special 
 arrangements, by a subvention, to distribute 
 German newspapers and illustrated sheets speci- 
 ally throughout Switzerland. Look at this [he 
 pointed to the Illustrated Leipzig Gazette'] ; Switzer- 
 land is deluged with it week after week. It is 
 beautifully printed in colours, the drawings are 
 by the best German artists, the photographs are 
 printed by a rotogravure. Here, you see, are 
 English prisoners, almost unhurt, marching with 
 their captors to the camp. Here, in another 
 paper, you are being bombed out of your trenches 
 by this or that gallant German regiment. We 
 have had a little English propaganda here, but 
 your people do not seem to study the methods 
 of advertisers as the Germans do. German pro- 
 paganda is ceaseless ; yours is feeble and inter- 
 mittent. The German propaganda is in the 
 hands of advertising people who understand that 
 when an advertiser ceases to proclaim the virtue 
 of his wares the sale of them disappears. 
 
 There are many weak points in the German
 
 HOW THE GERMANS WORK 253 
 
 armour in Switzerland and other neutral countries, 
 and they could be pierced by astute people who 
 understand the psychology of each particular 
 neutral nationality. Germany has always the 
 advantage of propinquity in dealing with the 
 Swiss, the Dutch, the Swedes, and the Danes. 
 That is a fact that should not be forgotten by 
 your propagandists, and should cause them to 
 make exertions, greater, even, than the Germans 
 themselves. 
 
 The force of this pro-Ally Swiss gentleman's re- 
 marks was borne in upon me when two or three days 
 later I read in Le Temps a telegram to the following 
 effect : 
 
 The organization for German newspaper dis- 
 tribution at Zurich has presented to the large 
 hotels at Geneva a form on which the owner or 
 manager states that he is ready to place at the 
 disposal of the public, in the reading-room of his 
 hotel, the following newspapers and reviews : 
 Der Tag, of Berlin ; Frankfurt Gazette, Cologne 
 Gazette, Voss Gazette, Tdgliche Rundschau, of 
 Berlin ; Fremdenblatt, of Hamburg ; Leipzig 
 Latest News, Illustrated Leipzig Gazette, Die Woche 
 (The Week), a Berlin illustrated paper ; Reclams 
 Universum, Berlin illustrated journal; Deutsche 
 Politik (German politics). 
 
 Under the terms of this agreement, it is pointed 
 out that the German propagandists will deliver 
 the newspapers and reviews free to the hotel, on 
 condition that their display in the reading-room 
 is not charged for. 
 
 The agreement is to take effect from September 
 1st to December 31st, 1916. 
 
 The Journal de Geneve protests against this 
 latest evolution of German propaganda.
 
 254 AT THE WAR 
 
 Surely it would not be difficult for our Government 
 to counteract this step by distributing supplies of the 
 Graphic and Illustrated London News, with, if necessary, 
 supplements in French and German, for circulation 
 in Switzerland. The distribution would need to be 
 watched by some shrewd man of business with Con- 
 tinental experience, who would counter the German 
 news at every step. 
 
 I left Switzerland with two convictions, gathered 
 from interviews with people who shall be nameless. 
 
 First, that the question of the treatment of our 
 prisoners in Germany demands much greater atten- 
 tion that it is receiving. 
 
 Secondly, that if the British Government thinks 
 that Swiss opinion is worth cultivating, in view of 
 certain eventualities, it should take proper and prompt 
 steps to combat German propaganda.
 
 THE GERMANS IN SPAIN 
 
 THE ARMY OF ANTI-ALLY WORKERS 
 
 PAMPLONA, SPAIN 
 
 FORTY-SIX years ago Germany was at war with 
 France over the question of the Spanish marriages 
 and the Hohenzollern candidate, the initial cause of 
 the Franco-Prussian conflict of 1870. Since that time 
 the Germans have never ceased to agitate for the 
 political and commercial control of Spain. 
 
 During the last two years, despite the war, they 
 have managed by a stroke of good fortune, which at 
 first sight looked like ill-luck, greatly to increase their 
 numerical strength throughout the Peninsula. 
 
 In the last days of July, 1914, many Germans fled 
 from France into Spain. Their number was speedily 
 increased by the arrival at various Spanish ports of 
 travelling Germans, who remained there, rather than 
 face the Anglo-French blockade. When Portugal 
 declared war there was another incursion of German 
 refugees. To their number have since been added 
 the German soldiers and civilians from Cameroon. 
 It is said that altogether, including the large number 
 of resident business Germans, there are now something 
 like 80,000 Huns in Spain. The total is variously 
 estimated at from 60,000 to 100,000, but a Barcelona 
 man of affairs, who visits all parts of Spain continually, 
 considers that, including the 20,000 residents of his 
 own city, the number is approximately 80,000. That 
 these 80,000 Germans are not idle is borne in upon
 
 256 AT THE WAR 
 
 one within a very few hours of crossing the Spanish 
 frontier. 
 
 Let me first ask readers who have not recently 
 visited Northern and Western Spain to remove from 
 their thoughts all ideas gathered from Borrow or 
 Ford. " Backward Spain," so far as the Northern 
 provinces are concerned, is the land, not of gipsy, 
 beggar, and brigand, but of Spanish, British, German 
 enterprise, of highly-developed water-power, countless 
 new light railways, automobiles, factories, workshops 
 of all descriptions, and of hotels with bed-rooms and 
 bath-rooms en suite. 
 
 Things are nowhere in the world as before the war. 
 Thus, it is an unpleasant surprise, on going to a 
 Spanish bank, to find that our good British sovereign, 
 which, we were proud to think, was the standard coin 
 of the world, is at an uncomplimentary discount in a 
 land where one formerly received a handsome bonus 
 in exchange. It is unpleasant, too, on opening count- 
 less Spanish newspapers, to find that a belief in Ger- 
 man victory and in German invincibility is, appar- 
 ently, a conviction in most parts of Spain. It is dis- 
 appointing to be received by old Spanish friends, 
 friends who have visited England, who know our 
 country, with an air of doubt as to our capacity to 
 make war. It is particularly disagreeable to notice 
 the favourable and agreeable manner in which the 
 Hun is received in Spanish society. And it is not 
 flattering to the Allies to find that he has the support 
 of a great body of the aristocracy, of practically the 
 whole of the Church, Jesuit and otherwise, with, in 
 addition, a large part of middle-class Spain. 
 
 I would not for a minute disregard the strong pro- 
 Ally views of many Spaniards, some in important 
 positions. We owe them a debt of gratitude. 
 Many are labouring assiduously to convince their 
 countrymen of the justice of our cause, but they are 
 face to face with the hourly wireless propaganda from
 
 AT THE CAFE KUTZ 257 
 
 the Nauen station, Berlin, and the Austrian wireless 
 from Pola. They have to encounter all manner of 
 cross-currents beneath the sea of Spanish opinion, 
 and these cross-currents have been forced by the 
 Germans till in many cases they have become veritable 
 tides of pro-Germanism. 
 
 It would be preposterous for a casual visitor to 
 Spain, such as is the present writer, with but some 
 half-dozen holiday tours in that country as a previous 
 experience, to offer himself as an authority on a very 
 complex subject. Yet he can, at least, record that 
 which he hears from former Spanish acquaintances, 
 from English and other residents, together with that 
 which he reads, that which he sees. 
 
 I came here to Pamplona because it is a convenient 
 German centre and because it is a pleasant place in 
 a fair country. The days of early autumn in Northern 
 Spain are crisp, yet warm, like the mimosa time in 
 spring at Cannes. The Indian corn is now ripe ; 
 jasmine in great festoons and garlands, as we never 
 see it in England, is everywhere, mixing its fragrance 
 with that of the magnolia. The little, low-growing, 
 purple wine-grapes in this, the famous Rioja district, 
 are sweet enough to steal. 
 
 When one surveys these rich valleys, in which 
 everything, including olives, bright red capsicums, 
 vines, peaches, beets, tomatoes, all seem to luxuriate 
 together in wild profusion, it is not difficult to under- 
 stand why the men from the sandy plains of Prussia 
 are covetous. There are other reasons of which I 
 shall speak. A glance at the map of Europe should be 
 sufficiently suggestive of Bismarck's anxieties about 
 the Iberian Peninsula. 
 
 At the Cafe Kutz, at Pamplona, which, despite 
 our blockade, bravely but falsely advertises Spaten- 
 brau-Munchen on its wide white awning, may be 
 found after Mittagessen many of the types of the Ger- 
 man elements that are unceasingly working against
 
 258 AT THE WAR 
 
 us and against Spain. One soon learns from their 
 loud talk that the Germans in Spain have constituted 
 themselves into a well-drilled army, obviously acting 
 on definite instructions. 
 
 Just one typical scene. The Huns who were eating 
 at one of the leading hotels to-day, and who had to 
 bear our English-speaking as best they could, were 
 probably mostly soldiers and civilians back from 
 Cameroon. Their leader was a young Prussian of 
 30, whose neck and head were of about the same 
 diameter. He had little, Oriental eyes, stiff wooden 
 movements, a gash down the side of the face, received 
 at a Mensur in student days, and hair cropped as 
 closely as a poodle's. 
 
 Pamplona is a great clerical centre. A number 
 of young priests were lunching, and heartily, let me 
 say. As each left the room the young Boche rose 
 and bent himself in half, in German fashion, with a 
 tremendous bow, to the evident pleasure of the priests. 
 The thing was exactly like the official railway courtesy 
 ordered by telegram from Berlin to any more or less 
 known foreign traveller, and at the same time showed 
 the minute care with which the German army in 
 Spain is working. With the Church on their side, 
 the battle is half won. Later on, the same young 
 Boche was one of a large company of noisy, hat- 
 lifting Germans at the Kutz establishment, and it 
 was amusing to notice that, as a flock of the black- 
 robed fathers strolled by in an unmasculine costume 
 (which is certainly not suited to Spanish heat and dust) 
 the Huns cast amused and contemptuous glances 
 behind their backs, and made slighting remarks about 
 them. 
 
 From a Spanish acquaintance, who is not a little 
 concerned at the growing intensity of German activity 
 in Spain, I learned a good deal of the habits and 
 customs of the propagandists, for such every one of 
 them is.
 
 "GERMANY MUST WIN" 259 
 
 Germany long ago impressed Spain with the prestige 
 of her arms and her trade. On the Norte Railway 
 the finest locomotives bear the name of their German 
 place of origin, in legible letters, that can be read by 
 passengers on both of the station platforms. At 
 one time Spanish locomotives came from England. 
 In the home, or the hotel, there is nearly always a 
 German piano, a German bath, and you switch on a 
 German electric lamp to see the time by a German 
 clock. The chemists' shops are full of German drugs 
 and preparations. 
 
 A vast, new, many-windowed, oblong, ugly, in- 
 dustrial building looms up before you at the corner 
 of a road, and you find that it is a sugar factory erected 
 by Germans, since the war. 
 
 The average Spaniard, who is more of a caballero 
 than a man of business, is naturally impressed by 
 years of German commercial surroundings. Many 
 Spanish business men are frankly afraid of Germans. 
 
 The khaki-clad officers and men of the Spanish 
 Army especially the younger officers looking un- 
 commonly like our Belgian Allies except for the shape 
 of their caps, are, I was assured by Spanish officers, 
 convinced that Germany must win. 
 
 From the moment of the outbreak of war every 
 refugee as he arrived was immediately set to work to 
 learn Spanish. Many of them had fled into Spain 
 so hurriedly that they were without funds, and these 
 were provided by the local German Consuls. But 
 the invaders were not long idle. The majority 
 obtained work in the innumerable establishments of 
 their compatriots, some in Barcelona, some at Seville, 
 some in the iron districts, others in the countless 
 industries in Spain into which the German vampire 
 has dug its claws. A few, it is believed, have availed 
 themselves of their knowledge of Spanish to escape, 
 as Spaniards, to South America, to Holland, and to 
 Scandinavia. For the purpose of such adventurous
 
 26o AT THE WAR 
 
 journeys they buy up old passports, or make use of 
 others, manufactured for the special purpose. 
 
 But, as a rule, the Germans in Spain show no great 
 anxiety to get back to the land of the meatless day 
 and the bread-ticket. They look prosperous and 
 well-fed, and they are unquestionably helping to get 
 Spain into the German clutch. They realize that if 
 to a victorious Germany Spain is very useful, to a 
 defeated Germany Spain is almost essential. 
 
 In the likely event of the development of overland 
 transport by aeroplane, the coasts and harbours of 
 friendly Spain would be invaluable to Germany. 
 The mineral wealth of the Peninsula, only now being 
 scientifically developed, would afford her several 
 sorts of raw material, of which Germany has little 
 or none. And, as an outlet for German goods, as the 
 main point of departure for the wealthy Republics 
 of South America, as a bulwark against English 
 control of Gibraltar, Spain is, from the German point 
 of view, distinctly Germany's " pidgin." 
 
 The well-drilled battalions of German residents 
 and refugees in Spain know exactly how to confuse 
 public opinion in any locality. In the North of 
 Spain, where the French have never been popular 
 since the Napoleonic invasion, they alarm the ignorant 
 by threats that an Allied victory might mean a revival 
 of the days of a hundred years ago. In the West 
 they state that, as a reward for Portugal's " treach- 
 ery " in joining the Allies, she is to be given two of 
 the richest Spanish provinces. 
 
 Lately Spain became anxious on this point, coupled 
 as it was with the statement that the Portuguese 
 Army was mobilized against Spain. The Portuguese 
 Government wisely asked Spain to send a military 
 mission to inspect the situation. There was not, of 
 course, a word of truth in the statement, which was 
 industriously promulgated by one of the most widely 
 circulated Madrid newspapers, the A.B.C., which,
 
 BASE JOURNALISM 261 
 
 under a cunning pretence of neutrality, is, as I can 
 easily prove by its files, subtly and continually pro- 
 German. The Portuguese Government has had the 
 wisdom to cut off the Portuguese circulation of the 
 A. B.C. One illustration from the A. B.C. will suffice. 
 It may be found on page 8 of the first edition of Sep- 
 tember 3 at the beginning of an article headed " The 
 Military Situation." I translate it roughly and ap- 
 pend the original Spanish : 
 
 "The great Franco-English offensive may be 
 regarded as broken. The results obtained, after 
 two months' fighting, are practically nil, and it 
 must be admitted, besides, that most of the 
 little that has been won is due to the effort of 
 the French troops ; whereby it is demonstrated 
 that armies cannot be improvised. 
 
 "The operations on the Somme have hardly 
 influenced the position at Verdun ; since, if 
 it is certain that for some time past the Germans 
 have not been attacking, they retain the positions 
 conquered, and the repeated efforts of the French 
 against Thiaumont and Fleury have not changed 
 the situation. To all appearances, it does not 
 seem that, for the present, events of importance 
 are in preparation on the Western front. 
 
 "On the Isonzo, the Italians remain unable 
 to go beyond Gorizia ; if it costs them as much 
 to get out as it did to get in, they will have to 
 wait still many a month." 
 
 [La gran ofensiva franco-ingle sa en el Somme 
 puede darse por fracasada : los resultados ob- 
 tenidos, despue"s de dos meses de combates, son 
 practicamente nulos, y cabe augurar, ademas, 
 que lo poco que se ha conseguido se debe en su 
 mayor parte al esfuerzo de las tropas francesas ; 
 con lo cual queda demostrado que los Ejercitos 
 no se improvisan.
 
 262 AT THE WAR 
 
 Las operaciones en el Somme apenas ban 
 influido en el campo de Verdun, pues si bien es 
 cierto que hace tiempo que los alemanes no 
 atacan, conservan las posiciones conquistadas, 
 y las repetidas tentativas de los franceses contra 
 Thiaumont y Fleury no ban modificado la situa- 
 cidn. Verosimilmente, no parece que se pre- 
 paran, por ahora, en el teatro occidental, acon- 
 tecimientos de importancia. 
 
 En el Isonzo, los italianos siguen sin poder 
 salir de Goricia ; si les cuesta tanto la salida 
 como la entrada, hay que esperar aun muchos 
 meses.] 
 
 The article proceeds to deal in the same style 
 with the Russian and Rumanian operations, and 
 concludes by comparing the position of Greece with 
 that of Spain in 1808. 
 
 Not content with this essay in perversion, the 
 A.B.C. had the impudence to publish on page 20 
 of the same issue an editorial note entitled "Our 
 Neutrality," calling upon its readers to bear witness 
 to its entire impartiality whenever they hear it 
 called in question I 
 
 In the south " Gibraltar for the Spaniards " re- 
 mains the most successful German cry, appealing 
 as it does to Spanish pride and sentiment. The 
 Moroccan question and the Moroccans themselves 
 are never let alone by Germany. The suggestion 
 is continually put forward, too, that Germany stands 
 for monarchy, order, and religion ; whereas England 
 is the home of free speech and industrial unrest, 
 and France the centre of anarchy. 
 
 Next to our own island, Spain is the chief mother 
 country of the world. Here and there the Spaniards 
 exhibit maps showing to what parts of the earth 
 Spanish stock has carried the Spanish language. 
 With the language has gone a certain amount of
 
 OUR FRIENDS 263 
 
 sympathy for Spain. The Germans know that, with 
 Spain as a point d'appui, and the backing of Spanish 
 opinion, and, above all, with that of the Church, 
 their cause is likely to be better appreciated in the 
 New World than if mother-Spain were hostile. From 
 Spain, therefore, proceeds to South America a great 
 deal of German propaganda in the Spanish language. 
 
 Although many war fortunes are being made in 
 Spain for she is supplying iron to England, railway 
 trucks and war material of other descriptions to 
 France some discomfort has been caused by the 
 war. One of the most unpopular topics in Spain 
 is the high price of bread. Another is the cost 
 of coal, which in some places stands at 6 a ton. 
 These circumstances are used by the German agents 
 to stir up feeling against England for her wickedness 
 in launching the world into war. 
 
 The chief methods of propaganda, then, seem 
 to be a daily stream of wireless communiques from 
 Berlin and Austria, discrediting the Allies ; continuous 
 activity on the part of the Church and the Carlists ; 
 the influence of the German " colony," with steady 
 work on the part of the university professors and 
 schoolmasters on behalf of the Central Powers, the 
 chief channel being, of course, the Press. There 
 are notable exceptions, such as the Impartial, El 
 Liberal, Heraldo, and others engaged in sustained 
 effort to put the truth about the war before the 
 Spanish public. These efforts have, especially of 
 late, had a considerable amount of success, and have 
 aroused German hostility, as will no doubt this and 
 another article of mine. A small, but, it is to be 
 hoped, a growing part of Spanish opinion is disgusted 
 with German cruelties, and more especially with 
 the wholesome enslavement of Belgian and French 
 women in the invaded provinces. There has been 
 talk in the English newspapers of a remonstrance 
 by the Spanish Government in this matter, but
 
 264 AT THE WAR 
 
 in the absence of much stronger pro- Ally propaganda 
 and much firmer British diplomacy, it would be 
 surprising were anything really important to result. 1 
 
 Let me give a few instances as showing the methods 
 of presenting news to the Spanish public by certain 
 journals. In all the neutral countries German Press 
 agents represent England as cowering under the 
 Zeppelin terror. To-day, in one newspaper, I read 
 of a great Zeppelin raid on London, and of orders 
 by the Metropolitan Police that not a single ray of 
 light was to be emitted at night, either out of doors 
 or indoors. This news was prominently given 
 but not a word was said in this journal about one 
 of the raiding Zeppelins having been destroyed. 
 
 In one of our headquarters' communiques the other 
 day it was stated that we brought down a certain 
 number of enemy aeroplanes. The communique was 
 so put as to give the impression that we had lost 
 the aeroplanes, and the heading was, " The British 
 Communique. Ten Aeroplanes Lost." 
 
 This sort of thing, carried on day after day and 
 week after week by innumerable journals among a 
 people who have had German efficiency drilled into 
 them for years, is a sort of poison that will only be 
 removed by some great military success on our 
 part. Verdun has done as much as anything to 
 cure a certain part of Spanish public opinion of the 
 " German invincibility " theory. (It is interesting, 
 by the way, to note here, in Pamplona, a German 
 centre, little books for sale, with the head of the 
 Kaiser so drawn as to look like a skull on a background 
 of blood, entitled simply " Verdun.") Former Span- 
 ish acquaintances of pro-German views admitted 
 to me that Verdun was puzzling to them. 
 
 As elsewhere, the view is industriously spread 
 by Germany that England is the sole and only 
 
 1 Up to the time of going to press, as we say in Fleet-street, no 
 remonstrance has been made.
 
 A PEACE KITE 265 
 
 cause of the war, and that the unfortunate French 
 are only too anxious to make peace. England, 
 the might of whose army is absolutely unknown 
 to the average Spaniard, is represented as sacrificing 
 France, as she is alleged to have sacrificed Belgium, 
 Serbia, Montenegro. If, runs the argument, Spain 
 were so mad as to join the Allies, her fate would 
 be that of France and the rest ; and if she were even 
 to exhibit friendly neutrality civil war would result. 
 The leading Carlist papers have recently headed 
 their articles " Neutrality or Civil War I " 
 
 President Wilson, who, like most Americans, is 
 not liked in Spain, by reason of the loss of Cuba, 
 and whose Mexican policy is not pleasing to a country 
 that has millions invested in that distraught El 
 Dorado, is quite a hero of the Germanophiles. When 
 the pro-Ally Spaniards ask the pro-Germans when 
 they are going to protest against German horrors, 
 the pro-German reply is that the atrocities are 
 malicious inventions of John Bull. If they were 
 true, the good President Wilson would interfere 
 in the matter. 
 
 Another line taken by German propagandists, 
 chiefly among the aristocratic classes, is that Spain 
 should keep herself strictly impartial, so that, if 
 necessary, King Alfonso and his Cabinet may perhaps 
 be invited by Great Britain to arbitrate when we 
 sue for peace with Germany. That we shall eventually 
 invite the Spanish Court to save our face seems 
 to be accepted by all except the inner circle, who 
 know some of the facts. 
 
 One of these facts is that the Germans lately 
 induced a well-known Spanish nobleman to go to 
 London to fly a peace kite, and that, on his arrival, 
 those to whom he was accredited wisely took not 
 the least notice of him. The Germans now assert 
 that the unfortunate Spaniard went to London on 
 his own account.
 
 266 AT THE WAR 
 
 From much that I have heard in the course of 
 my enquiries, the Spanish Court would be the very 
 worst arbiter between the Allies and the Central 
 Powers. Whatever may be King Alfonso's own 
 knowledge, the views of the average Court official 
 are something like these : 
 
 " English officers are gallant fellows, excellent 
 polo players, good sportsmen in general, but amateurs. 
 The English ' Tommies ' are few in number, brave, 
 but foolhardy. The ' bloody repulses ' so often men- 
 tioned in the German communiques are due to the 
 fact that an army cannot be raised in a few years. 
 France has called up all her men from 17 years of 
 age to 48. England can do nothing on land of any 
 service. Therefore Germany is bound to win, and 
 even if she does not win, cannot possibly lose." 
 
 I am informed that a Spanish military mission 
 has been sent to British military headquarters. 
 It is to be trusted that it will have come back with 
 opinions that may somewhat change this Court 
 point of view, though I am doubtful of the lasting 
 effect of anything short of a smashing and palpable 
 military defeat of Germany one that cannot be 
 disproved by wireless. 
 
 Former Spanish acquaintances regard me as some- 
 thing of a hero in venturing across the German 
 submarine-controlled Channel at this juncture. Others 
 doubt that I really propose to go back to live and 
 work in Zeppelin-infested London. One hears all 
 sorts of stupid nonsense, from people who ought 
 to know better, such as the statement that Princess 
 Henry of Battenberg, mother of the Queen of Spain, 
 has come to Spain for safety from Zeppelins. These 
 views would be merely annoying were it not that 
 they have a bearing on Spanish opinion during 
 the war and on the theory of German invincibility. 
 
 A good deal of travel among neutrals lately has 
 borne in upon me the fact that no one wants to be
 
 COMMENDATORE MARCONI'S OFFER 267 
 
 on the losing side. It is obviously with this view 
 in mind that Germany keeps her 80,000 agents in 
 Spain perpetually at work, hiding Allied successes, 
 minimizing the importance of such events as the 
 intervention of Rumania which shook a small section 
 of Spanish opinion for a day or two and belittling 
 the British effort. A shrewd Englishman of business 
 in Spain and we have many such assured me that 
 he believed the present melancholy state of our good 
 English pound sterling was due not only to the 
 balance of trade against us but to the doubt as to 
 our capacity to stand up against Germany. Former 
 Spanish admirers who have been impressed by the 
 German propaganda are politely silent when some 
 idea is given them of the determination of Great 
 Britain and her Allies to crush the vampire. 
 
 Pro-Ally Spaniards say that immeasurable harm 
 was done in the long months during which the 
 British Army issued no daily communique whatever. 
 The impression was then almost indelibly confirmed 
 that we had no Army. Yet during all that time 
 we had taken our part in the battles of the Marne, 
 the Aisne, and Ypres. 
 
 There are quick minds at the other end of the 
 German wireless and they watch our proceedings 
 very closely. They flood Spain with downright lies, 
 minimizing statements and contradictions with a 
 celerity which is quite amazing. I have been 
 so struck again and again by the quickness with 
 which neutrals learn from Germany what is going 
 on, that I recently asked Commendatore Marconi 
 if it were possible that the Germans had a secret 
 wireless in our midst. He replied that it would 
 be quite possible for them to have wireless apparatus, 
 that it would be very difficult to detect, and that 
 he himself would be able to erect a wireless in England 
 that our authorities would have great trouble in 
 discovering. But it is certain that what we are, 
 
 s 2
 
 268 AT THE WAR 
 
 in reality, face to face with, is great alertness 
 and intelligence on the part of the German Press 
 Bureau. 
 
 The Germans in Spain have wealthy people among 
 them who have seen to it that the various German 
 communities and individuals are closely linked up. 
 The newcomers are gathering every sort of information 
 about Spanish industries and the possibilities of 
 development in Spain. Need I point out that, with 
 a population of less than twenty millions, 80,000 
 active propagandists and workers constitute a for- 
 midable body ? 
 
 The number may be 80,000, it may be slightly 
 more or less, but the Hun seems to be everywhere. 
 Almost the first words I heard in Spain were German. 
 Seven out of ten of the numerous provincial journals 
 are, more or less, Germanophile. 
 
 In a motor journey of some 1,300 kilometres 
 I encountered German pedestrian and motor parties 
 all bound on the same purposeful work. Their 
 task is the easier because the general Spanish public 
 is not vastly interested in the war. In Spain it 
 is not the vital question that it is in England, in 
 France, or even Switzerland. In the newspapers 
 our Great Crusade often takes quite a minor position, 
 and in the majority there is more about the bull 
 fight or the latest crime than about the greatest 
 event in the world's history.
 
 VI 
 
 A SPANISH TOUR 
 
 SOME PEOPLE AND PLACES 
 
 WHILE it is difficult for anyone who has seen 
 anything of the horrors of the German invasion of 
 Belgium and France to comprehend the neutral 
 frame of mind, it has to be remembered in visiting 
 and contrasting Spain, where there is no sign of con- 
 flict, that her people are at peace. 
 
 A few of the more far-seeing Spanish leaders do 
 not quite like that situation. There is a good deal 
 of jealousy of little Portugal, who has not been afraid 
 to throw down her glove to the Kaiser. But, on the 
 whole, Spain in general, and industrial Spain in parti- 
 cular, appears to be glad to be out of the maelstrom. 
 
 In the course of visits extending over 30 years 
 I have never known such prosperity in Spain as 
 at present. With the exception of a few old women 
 who haunt the doors of cathedrals and a single gipsy, 
 who, by the way, asked alms in very fair German- 
 imagining, I regret to say, that our party was from 
 the Fatherland we were not assailed by a single 
 beggar anywhere. Good fortune seems to smile every- 
 where alike, in town and country. San Sebastian 
 and other watering-places are having seasons such as 
 they have never known before. In more than one of 
 the excellent motorists' hotels erected during the 
 past few years we found it difficult to obtain sleeping 
 quarters.
 
 270 AT THE WAR 
 
 On setting out on a visit to the iron districts, we 
 made the journey by the wonderful coast road 
 via Zarauz, Bilbao, and Santander, certainly 
 the most majestic, if dangerous, cliff road I have 
 travelled in a somewhat extensive experience. The 
 Bay of Naples, the road from Larne to Portrush, or 
 the Grande Corniche cannot compare with it. The 
 only drawbacks are the dust and nerve-racking corners, 
 round which tear high-powered cars, with open 
 exhausts, at a speed that reminds one of the Con- 
 tinental road races of a decade back. 
 
 There is a noise like that of a Zeppelin, or a traction 
 engine. Our modest 20 h.p. car is passed as if stand- 
 ing still, and then dust, that completely obscures 
 the view of sea and sky. 
 
 " The King ! " cries our chauffeur. His amiable 
 Majesty is en route. Youth will be served. Further 
 on we find a powerful Royal car not, fortunately, 
 Alfonso's in a ditch, with the two front wheels off. 
 A day or two afterwards the Spanish papers record 
 yet another and serious accident to certain members 
 of the Royal entourage. 
 
 In numberless ways it is a strange sensation to be 
 living in surroundings not unlike those of the Riviera 
 years ago in peace time. The white wings of the racing 
 yachts are in the bay, golfing and lawn tennis parties 
 are setting out for the day's sport, immaculately- 
 dressed young Spaniards, with Bond Street and Savile 
 Row written all over their clothes, are escorting 
 Senoritas, dressed from the Rue de la Paix. The 
 whole thing, against the background of the war, is 
 like a dream of something long past. 
 
 The road continues, one long film of beautiful 
 pictures, though it passes through the iron districts 
 leading to Bilbao and beyond. There is nothing in 
 the nature of a black country, or manufacturing 
 Lancashire, or chemical Cheshire. Now and then 
 one is on the Riviera, in a few moments in the sad
 
 AT BILBAO 271 
 
 mountains of Donegal. The hot southern sun blazes 
 down on little inland coves of the Atlantic, in which 
 are ensconced tiny watering-places ; but there are no 
 wounded, as in France or at home. Villas, embowered 
 in walnut and chestnut trees, with gardens gay with 
 red and white roses, and the universal jasmine and 
 pink oleander, have carefully closed persiennes to 
 keep out the mid-day heat. 
 
 As one approaches Bilbao the hills are red with the 
 iron-laden soil from beneath which is brought down 
 by vertical railway and wireways the metal for the 
 guns and the shells. The rivers and their estuaries 
 pour, brilliant red, into the green Atlantic. One 
 of our party remarked that, if anyone painted this 
 contrast of sea and river, he would be regarded as 
 an unusually eccentric Futurist. It was pleasantly 
 cool sauntering along, but when we stopped for 
 luncheon at Bilbao, the centre of one of the richest 
 mineral territories in the world, we found that the 
 day was as hot as midsummer at home. 
 
 In the restaurant our next neighbour is a stout 
 German lady, whose performance on the tooth-pick 
 would have done credit to a restaurant in the Fried- 
 richstrasse in Berlin. We English speakers receive 
 the usual glares from the Germans, who are sharing 
 the excellent meal provided. 
 
 Afterwards, a Spaniard to whom we have an 
 introduction, complains of the Allies' commercial 
 black-list. We point out that war is war, and that 
 the saving of Allied lives and the destruction of enemy 
 trade is more important to us than commercial rela- 
 tions with neutrals. His reply is that the rule should 
 be applied all round, and especially to certain iron 
 mines which are conjointly owned by Germans and 
 English, and he mentions Krupp and an English 
 firm by name. He admits that the district is largely 
 Germanophile, and he believes that considerable iron 
 is going into Germany by Norway. This statement
 
 272 AT THE WAR 
 
 is afterwards denied, although not absolutely, by 
 an English authority whom we consulted. 
 
 After sauntering through an incredibly beautiful 
 country, with delicious glimpses of the Atlantic, 
 passing rivers in which the trout were rising tempt- 
 ingly, and one in which there was excellent salmon 
 fishing, we slept at Oviedo, at a palatial hotel as unlike 
 the Spain of 20 years ago as could be imagined. At 
 the local garage there was an assemblage of motor- 
 cars of the first rank, and not one of them, we 
 are glad to say, was German. Rolls-Royce, 
 Renault, Delaunay-Belleville, a Daimler, and the 
 Hispano-Suiza predominated. 
 
 There is an old Oviedo and a new which is being 
 built as rapidly and noisily as new New York, and as 
 ugly as new Buenos Aires. 
 
 Wakened in the morning by the sound of blasting 
 in the neighbouring hills, a sound that is never out 
 of one's ears in industrialized Spain, we crawled up 
 the zigzags of the great Cordilleras Cantabricas, and 
 suddenly descended from the dense, wet clouds into 
 what was exactly like Egypt. Red and ochre hills, 
 a great blazing, yellow plain, dried-up looking towns 
 on the hillside, pigeon cotes exactly like those in 
 Egyptian villages, and water raised by shadoofs. 
 The wheat has been gathered, and in some places is 
 being trodden out, as in Biblical times. In all places 
 it is winnowed in the wind, in ancient fashion. 
 
 Out on the plain the only birds are hawks and 
 quail-like partridges, with also our own red-legs. 
 We stopped the car outside an adobe hut of Moorish 
 design, thick-walled and very cool within. The 
 bright-eyed, dark, dry-skinned peasant, who comes out 
 to tell us the way, invites us to taste some of the wine 
 grapes which, together with some quinces, he is 
 growing in his little oasis. He is extremely intelligent, 
 declines any payment, as is usual in rural Spain, but
 
 SPANISH DUST 273 
 
 accepts a cigar and a few picture papers for he 
 cannot read and asks us about the war. It has 
 had the effect of raising the price of bread. The 
 land as far as we can see, he tells us, belongs to a 
 great nobleman, and is worked on a feudal system. 
 Owing to the emigration to South America, labour is 
 scarce, and he and his work doubly hard in consequence, 
 It would be good land, he says, if the rain were 
 attracted by the planting of more trees. The war, 
 he fears, will be long. His good manners, which 
 previous experience has taught me to find everywhere 
 and among all classes in Spain, forbid him expressing 
 an opinion as to the result. 
 
 Later on that day a similar enquiry as to our route 
 from an old labourer brought the question : Were 
 we French? "No," we replied, "English." He 
 put out his hand and shook ours warmly, saying that 
 he had been in the service of an English family in 
 Buenos Aires. And the war ? How long will it 
 last ? Long, he feared. " The AUemans are 
 strong." 
 
 There is no country in which I have been where 
 one is asked so frequently : How long will the war 
 last ? The war seems to be some great distant 
 monster which, despite the people's interest in their 
 own everyday life, is ever, if distantly, present. 
 
 The dust between Albert and Arras, in the earlier 
 days of the battle of the Somme, when thousands of 
 troops, transport wagons, and mules were stirring it, 
 seemed to be, to use an Americanism, the " extension 
 of the limit." Egyptian dust is perpetual and in- 
 sinuating, and Indian dust is like khaki flour. But 
 Spanish dust, in August, when a Norther is blowing, 
 amounts to something like a perpetual fog. A closed 
 car is of no avail ; goggles worn within it are useless. 
 A passing mule can raise a cloud of it, and it was 
 consoling to think, whatever may be the difficulties
 
 274 AT THE WAR 
 
 in front of our soldiers in that part of the map in 
 which Sir Douglas Haig and General Foch are opera- 
 ting, a war hi this part of the world ^would be worse, 
 a veritable agony of thirst. 
 
 Yet, little more than a hundred years ago, the 
 great Duke's soldiers drove Soult's forces across 
 waterless plains similar to these, at a time when 
 there were none of the comforts of mechanical 
 transport. 
 
 The contrast between the peace and gaiety of small 
 Spanish towns at night, and our thoughts of France 
 at this time is trying. Yet no one who has been in a 
 neutral country would wish to live in its atmosphere 
 rather than in that of England or of her Allies. These 
 Spanish towns are alive with children, who, having 
 like all Spaniards, enjoyed their siesta, appear to go to 
 bed about the time people are pouring out of the 
 theatres in London. 
 
 Almost every small centre has an excellent band, 
 whose only fault is the monotony of its mournful, 
 modern Spanish music, which seems to be almost 
 always written in the minor. It is that of a people 
 resigned to their lost position as conquistador es. 
 
 Often, it is pleasant to note, we came across places 
 in which there were not only no Germans, but no 
 knowledge of Germans. In some districts where there 
 were Germans the people were perfectly frank in 
 their dislike of them. The Spaniards are extremely 
 good mimics, and can imitate German ways in a most 
 amusing manner. 
 
 Enquiries and researches in a good many quarters, 
 every one of which revealed the same steady German 
 purpose, brought us eventually back to San Sebastian, 
 which many of its admirers claim, perhaps with 
 reason, to be the most beautiful seaside resort in the 
 world. San Sebastian to-day is humming with life 
 and visitors. On the way into the town we meet a 
 small English jockey, heavily swathed, toiling at
 
 IN THE GAMING ROOMS 375 
 
 least four miles an hour in the afternoon sun, to 
 reduce his weight for the racing, which takes place 
 almost daily. The local bull ring is packed, and an 
 attempt to get a seat for a pelota match was in 
 vain. 
 
 Although the Spaniards are still the proud people 
 they have always been, there is that curious mixture 
 of democracy that makes San Sebastian a combina- 
 tion of Monte Carlo and Margate. The King and his 
 yacht are here. Most of the Embassies have moved 
 here from Madrid. All Spain that counts fills the 
 beautiful villas on the hills, and the densely packed 
 hotels. In the morning the perfect sands swarm 
 with children. 
 
 Along the promenade that leads to Miramar, 
 outside which lounge his Majesty's guards in pic- 
 turesque red Biscayan caps, there is an endless pro- 
 cession of tramcars and motors, mingled with slowly 
 moving, yoked oxen, and the perpetual donkey of the 
 peasants, as often as not ridden pillion. The casino 
 is, of course, the main attraction of this very rapidly 
 growing town. In the gaming rooms, as at Monte 
 Carlo, are the same shabby old ladies, with solemn 
 faces, deliberately placing their five pesetas, with the 
 other and younger ladies, who throw their money 
 away as rapidly as they get it. Here and there is 
 an Englishman, who looks thoroughly ashamed at 
 being caught gambling in war-time, with the cus- 
 tomary wizened old men, studiously working out 
 their systems. There are Germans here, as every- 
 where, but they chiefly have their headquarters at 
 their own caj6 in the town. A German in Spain is 
 not, as a rule, on pleasure bent. 
 
 A pleasing and quite harmless feature of the 
 casino at San Sebastian is the organized gathering 
 of hundreds of children on the great terrace outside, 
 and in the rooms not devoted to gambling. The 
 absence of black in the women's and children's dresses
 
 276 AT THE WAR 
 
 is a striking contrast to one who has just come from 
 France, and, were it not for an occasional mantilla, 
 there would be nothing but the vivid greens, yellows, 
 and blues that sound so bizarre, but are not out of 
 place in Spain, where the national colours of red and 
 yellow fit the landscape as properly as do the green, 
 white, and red of sunlit Italy. The Spaniards make 
 much of their children. Sometimes one feels that 
 the small people are a little out of place at the hotel 
 dinner hour, which is usually at 8.30 or 9 o'clock. 
 As a rule the children are beautifully dressed, well 
 cared for, most attractive, and altogether sans genes. 
 When we asked a Spanish friend why that vivacious 
 and quick-witted creature, the chico (the Spanish boy) 
 develops so quickly into something like apathetic 
 languor, he replied it was " the education." Cer- 
 tainly the contrast between the early manhood of 
 Spain and the alertness of the boys is very 
 remarkable. 
 
 San Sebastian is itself solemnly and particularly 
 interesting to English people, who have a pilgrimage 
 of their own near by. 
 
 And so, leaving the Casino, with its myriads of little 
 ones, who were being entertained by the sending up of 
 grotesque fire balloons, in the shape of all manner of 
 animals and black men, and escaping from the noise of 
 the two rival bands, we said good-bye to neutral 
 Spain, by visiting the scene of the famous and glori- 
 ously victorious storming of the citadel in 1813, 
 when our soldiers showed exactly the same qualities 
 they are displaying on the Somme to-day. They 
 crossed the river under a terrible fire, which filled it 
 with English blood. They performed what seemed 
 the impossible, and what was almost as remarkable 
 as Wolfe's attack on Quebec. 
 
 At the summit of the citadel are a few English 
 graves, which seem somewhat more neglected than 
 they should be. From this lofty scene of the great
 
 FINIS 277 
 
 struggle they look straight out towards the Ba> of 
 Biscay to England. The most legible inscription 
 is as follows : 
 
 Sacred to the memory of Lieutenant-Colonel 
 Sir Richard Fletcher, Bart. ; Captain C. Rhodes, 
 Captain G. Collyer, Lieutenant H. Machell, Corps 
 of Royal Engineers, who fell at the siege of San 
 Sebastian, August 81, 1813.
 
 INDEX 
 
 ADVANCED Dressing Station, Plan 
 
 of West Peronne, 94. 
 Advanced Dressing Stations at 
 
 the Italian front, 98. 
 Aeroplane man's position most 
 
 dangerous in war, 52. 
 fighting, a young man's game, 
 
 52. 
 
 the bomb-dropping, 53. 
 the, and photographic scouting, 
 
 54. 
 Aeroplanes and sea observation, 
 
 54, 55. 
 
 and signalling, 51. 
 fighting, 52 ; searchlights on, 
 
 ibid. 
 
 observing, 52. 
 
 tricks to deceive observers, 54. 
 Zeppelins, and strong winds, 
 
 55. 
 
 Afar duels, early, and those of to- 
 day contrasted, 52. 
 fighting, great development of, 
 
 45, 46. 
 Amusements for British prisoners 
 
 in Switzerland, 241. 
 Armoured warplanes, 52. 
 Army, apathy of French people 
 
 on arrival of, 4. 
 arrival of, in France, 1. 
 demeanour of, on reaching a 
 
 strange country, 1. 
 English, an interesting expe- 
 rience, 5. 
 
 English, a perfectly fed force, 5 
 machine shops, economy in, 18. 
 Signal Corps' fine achieve- 
 ment, 13. 
 supplies, 36. 
 Artillery chief danger to aircraft, 
 
 51. 
 
 intensity of French and Ger- 
 man at Verdun, 91. 
 " parks," 88. 
 
 Artists, German, mobilized to 
 make pictorial records 
 
 of the war, 89. 
 
 t 
 
 IX THE WAR. 
 
 Actor, Lord, lends his house in 
 Carlton House Terrace 
 to Red Cross Society 
 134. 
 
 Australian discipline, 81. 
 Red Cross, 6, 85. 
 women behind the front, their 
 invaluable work, 7. 
 
 Austrian acts of vandalism in 
 Venice, 221. 
 
 BANDS in modern warfare, seldom 
 heard, 40. 
 
 Barges, hospital, in French rivers 
 and canals, 100. 
 
 Base Commandants, their tact , 
 
 Ac., 19. 
 
 hospitals, care of wounded 
 soldiers at, 37. 
 
 Belgian Field Hospital, the ad- 
 venturous career of, 184 
 girls and waste products, 17. 
 Red Cross, seizure of materiel 
 
 by Germans, 184. 
 soldier, the, his menu, 5. 
 
 Belgium, world's debt to, in- 
 creasing steadily, 177 ; 
 a renewed army, ibid. ; 
 care of its King for, 
 ibid. ; Baron de Broque- 
 ville and, 178 ; well 
 equipped with materiel, 
 180 ; the Belgian Field 
 Hospital, 184. 
 
 Bell, Mr. Moberly, Lord North- 
 cliffe, and The Times, 
 120. 
 
 Berne bread for English priso- 
 ners at Ruhleben, 248. 
 generosity of its inhabitants 
 to our interned 
 prisoners, 244. 
 
 parcels to Germany for British 
 prisoners from, 245, 246; 
 specimen parcels, 247.
 
 INDEX 
 
 Biebuyck, General, Aide-de- 
 Camp to Belgian King, 
 179. 
 
 Bilbao, 271. 
 
 Birdwood, General, idol of the 
 Anzacs, 79 seq. ; his 
 advice to his " boys," 
 82 ; always in the firing 
 line, 83 ; his meagre 
 fare, 84. 
 Bluejacket prisoners at Murren, 
 
 239. 
 Bomb-dropper, the, aeroplane, 
 
 53. 
 Bond of Empire in France, an 
 
 indissoluble, 8. 
 Boni, Professor, 125. 
 Boot repairing at the front, 
 Northampton machin- 
 ery used for, 17 ; a 
 Dublin bootmaker's in- 
 vention for making 
 bootlaces, 18. 
 Boulogne, watching arrival of 
 
 transport at, 1. 
 
 Bowlby, Sir Anthony, surgeon to 
 1st Australian Field 
 Ambulance, 84. 
 
 British bluejacket prisoners at 
 Murren, how they pass 
 the time, 235. 
 
 prisoners In Germany, then- 
 daily bread ration, 
 246. 
 German-Swiss welcome to, 
 
 227. 
 propaganda in Switzerland, 
 
 feeble, 229. 
 women behind the front, their 
 
 unselfish work, 7. 
 workman, contradiction of his 
 
 alleged slackness, 19. 
 wounded at Zurich, enthu- 
 siasm for, 227. 
 Broqueville, Baron de, Belgian 
 
 Minister of War, 178. 
 the " man " of Belgium, 
 
 178. 
 
 Mme de, 179. 
 
 Buchman, Mr. L., late Consul- 
 General at Munich, his 
 care for our prisoners in 
 Bulgaria and Turkey, 
 245. 
 
 Bureau de Secours aux Prison- 
 niers de Guerre, British 
 section of, in Switzer- 
 land, Lady Grant Duff 
 and, 243, 247. 
 
 Butler. Mr. Frank Hedges, the 
 only foreign visitor in 
 Reims, 154. 
 
 CADORK Front, on the, 205 seq. 
 
 Cadorna* General, most humor- 
 ous man of the war, 73 ; 
 comparison with the 
 late Pierpont Morgan, 
 ibid. ; accomplishes the 
 apparently impossible, 
 ibid. ; his quarters, 74 ; 
 a statesman as well as a 
 soldier, 75 ; started 
 soldiering at ten, ibid.; 
 his rapid advancement, 
 ibid.; his aversion to 
 favouritism, ibid.; does 
 not suffer fools gladly, 
 76 ; and the taking of 
 Gorizia, 193 ; welcomes 
 inquiry into Army 
 methods, 221. 
 
 Campbell, Gerald, and the British 
 section of the Bureau de 
 Secours aux Prison- 
 niers de Guerre, 243. 
 
 Canadian Red Cross, perfect 
 
 organization of, 6. 
 
 women behind the front, their 
 
 valuable work, 7. 
 
 Care of wounded soldiers at base 
 hospitals, 37. 
 
 Carso Battles, the, 197 seq. 
 
 Casualty Clearing Stations, the 
 first hospitals seen by 
 general public, 98. 
 
 Casualties among doctors at the 
 
 front, 89. 
 
 greater proportion of them 
 slight, 92. 
 
 Ceunink, General de, 180. 
 
 Church Army Huts, not centres 
 for dissemination of 
 tracts, 5. 
 
 Civilian's impression of the war , 
 a, 35-47.
 
 INDEX 
 
 281 
 
 Clarke, Mr. R. J. A., member of 
 the Berne Prisoners' 
 Bureau, 245. 
 
 Class feeling broken down by the 
 war, 102, 103. 
 
 Clerical establishments, Army, 
 loss of time and energy 
 in, 23, 24. 
 
 Clericetti, Colonel, 222. 
 
 Cormons, hospital at, 123 seq. 
 
 Corps Collecting Stations, no Red 
 Tape at, 97, 115. 
 
 Crater fighting, how taught, 22. 
 
 Crossley, Sir Savile (now Lord 
 Somerleyton), Acting- 
 Commissioner of Red 
 Cross Society hi France, 
 120. 
 
 Curie, Mme., the discoverer of 
 radium, a wonderful 
 business organizer, 29. 
 
 DEAD, the, recovery of effects of, 
 department for, 24, 25. 
 
 Delay, complaints of, a question 
 of labour and dock 
 accommodation, 20. 
 
 Delme - Radcliffe, Brig. - Gen., 
 and British Military 
 Mission at Italian Head- 
 quarters, 222. 
 
 Derby, Lord, 109. 
 
 Detail, Colonel, escorted to the 
 trenches by, 179. 
 
 Devices to trick the* enemy, 
 Canadians and Austra- 
 lians pre-eminent in in- 
 venting, 48. 
 
 D'Hauteville, Mr. P. Grand, 
 president of Prisoners' 
 Bread Bureau at Berne, 
 244. 
 
 Doctors at the front, their slender 
 
 shelter, 91. 
 
 Empire, their self-sacrifice, 89. 
 English, then 1 meagre outfit, 
 
 89. 
 
 casualties among, 89, 90. 
 underground dressing room, 93. 
 Regimental Air Post, 90. 
 
 Dolomites, fighting in the, 211 seq. 
 
 D'Orjo, General, Belgian Chef de 
 Cabinet, 179, 
 
 Douaumont Fort, storming of, 
 
 167. 
 a fort only in name, 228. 
 
 Dressing Stations, Advanced, at 
 the front, 92. 
 
 Duff, Lady Grant, and the Bureau 
 de Secours aux Prison- 
 niers de Guerre at 
 Berne, 243, 247. 
 
 Dudley, Lady, her care for the 
 happiness and comfort 
 of officers, 6, 7. 
 
 Duval, Mme., popular restaura- 
 teur, 29. 
 
 ENGLAND after the war, changed 
 by the men in the 
 trenches, 108. 
 
 English doctors, their outfit, 89 
 prisoners in Switzerland, kind 
 treatment of by the 
 inhabitants, 236. 
 in Switzerland under Swiss 
 discipline, 237. 
 
 Enemy, devices to trick the, 
 Canadians and Austra- 
 lians pre-eminent hi in- 
 venting, 48. 
 
 Etaples to Wimereux, a series of 
 palatial hospitals, 7. 
 
 FIELD operating theatre, a, near 
 the battlefield, 97. 
 
 Fighting in the Dolomites, 211 seq. 
 planes, 52. 
 
 First impression of war chaos 
 and confusion, 36. 
 
 Floating hospitals, 88. 
 
 Food for our men in Germany, 
 The Times' efforts for 
 obtaining, 248-248. 
 
 Francis Joseph, Emperor, effigy 
 hanged on lamps in 
 Venice, 221. 
 
 French artillery, intensity of, at 
 
 Verdun, 91. 
 girls and utilization of waste 
 
 products, 17. 
 
 interned prisoners in Switzer- 
 land, 286. 
 
 kinematograph operators hi 
 uniform, 85. 
 
 T
 
 282 
 
 INDEX 
 
 French poilus at Miirren, 236. 
 roads, superiority of, 44, 45. 
 soldier, the, as a cook, 5. 
 French-Swiss newspapers and the 
 
 war, 228. 
 
 French Switzerland, good work 
 of our French Allies in, 
 229. 
 
 pro- Ally, 230. 
 women capable managers of 
 
 businesses, 29. 
 
 Fry, Elizabeth, and social reform, 
 30. 
 
 GATE to Italy barred, the, 217- 
 
 222. 
 
 Geneva, a changed town owing 
 to the war, 251. 
 
 and British Red Cross Societies, 
 the, 251, 252. 
 
 Red Cross, heartrending ap- 
 peals to, from all coun- 
 tries, 250. 
 
 German artillery, intensity of, at 
 Verdun, 91. 
 
 atrocities, remonstrance by 
 Spanish Government 
 talked of, 263. 
 
 efforts to undermine Swiss 
 belief in Allies' cohesion, 
 229. 
 
 exodus from France into Spain 
 in 1914, 255. 
 
 lies, Spain flooded with, 267. 
 
 methods of propaganda in 
 Spain, 263. 
 
 newspaper propaganda in 
 Switzerland, 228. 
 
 propaganda hi Geneva, 251, 
 252. 
 
 prisoners and then* food, 23. 
 
 prisoners hidden in England, 
 20. 
 
 prisoners in France, 20. 
 
 secret wireless apparatus in 
 Spain, Commendatore 
 Marconi's views con- 
 cerning, 267. 
 
 wounded not heroes at home, 
 
 44. 
 
 German-Swiss puzzled about 
 Verdun, 227. 
 
 German-Swiss,anti-attitude of, to 
 Allies, 227 ; afterwards 
 appreciative, ibid. 
 Switzerland and family ties 
 
 with Germany. 228. 
 pro-German but fair, 230. 
 
 Germans hi Spain, with the, 255- 
 
 268. 
 
 not anxious to quit, 260. 
 are naturally cruel, 44. 
 
 Germany, food for our men in, 
 243-248. 
 
 Germany's 80,000 agents in 
 Spam, 267. 
 
 Gifford, Lady, manager of 
 Princess Louise's home 
 at Hardelot, 7. 
 
 Gleichen, Countess Helen, and 
 the 4th Section British 
 Red Cross with the 
 Italians, 220. 
 
 Gorizia, the taking of, 193 seq. 
 
 Government foresight hi con- 
 nexion with Red Cross, 
 &c., societies, 6. 
 
 HADFIELD, Lady, her hospital in 
 France, 7. 
 
 Haig, Sir Douglas, 20 ; his head- 
 quarters, 59 ; rarely 
 absent from, ibid. ; his 
 Scottish atmosphere, 60, 
 his dourness, ibid. ; his 
 dislike of secret reports, 
 61 ; his candour, ibid. ; 
 suggestions invited, 
 ibid. ; no preference for 
 cavalry, ibid. ; his won- 
 derful system of com- 
 munication, 62 ; devo- 
 tion of his staff, ibid. ; 
 a soldier's appreciation 
 of, ibid. ; his nightly 
 vigil, 63; his co- 
 operation with the 
 medical services, 90. 
 
 Hauser, Colonel, Swiss P.M.O. at 
 Miirren, 237, 240. 
 
 Headquarters of a modern army, 
 40. 
 
 Heat in the Trentino, 217. 
 
 Hill, Octavia, and social reform, 
 30.
 
 INDEX 
 
 283 
 
 Hilton, Mr., builds golf course at 
 
 Wimereux, 119. 
 Rollings, Mrs., and 4th Section 
 
 British Red Cross at 
 
 the Trentino front, 220. 
 Horse ambulances at the front, 
 
 96. 
 Hospital barges in French rivers 
 
 and canals, 100. 
 
 Hospital trains at the front, 100. 
 Hospitals, floating, 38. 
 
 in France, our, a world of their 
 
 own, 101. 
 Hudson, Sir Robert, Financial 
 
 Manager of Red Cross, 
 
 110, 111, 117. 
 Hun, support of, in Spanish 
 
 society, 256. 
 
 IRWIN, Major A. W. A., R.A.M.C., 
 
 127. 
 
 Italian armies, enquiry into, wel- 
 comed by Gen. Cadorna, 
 221. 
 
 Army, with the Invitation 
 from the King of Italy, 
 189. 
 
 soldiers, varied diet of, 5. 
 
 surgical mobile hospitals, 
 visit to, 220. 
 
 Switzerland, 230. 
 Italy, King of, head of the Italian 
 Army, 73 ; modest and 
 self-effacing, ibid. 
 
 JOAN OF ARC, statue of, at Reims 
 undamaged, 154. 
 
 Joffre, General, visit to, 67 ; his 
 humble quarters, 68 ; 
 an early riser and a 
 regular routine, ibid. ; 
 his methods at the 
 Battle of the Marne, 
 ibid. ; his great organiz- 
 ing work, 69 ; his simple 
 uniform, ibid. ; an im- 
 pression of massiveness, 
 ibid. ; a great person- 
 ality of the war, ibid. ; 
 how he is bearing the 
 war, 70. 
 
 KKOQH, Sir Alfred, 98 ; his work 
 
 for the Red Cross, 120. 
 Kinematograph, the, and the 
 
 war, use by British of, 
 
 89. 
 Kinematographers, mobilized by 
 
 Germans for pictorial 
 
 records of the war, 89. 
 King's doctor, the English, acts 
 
 as his own dresser, 6. 
 Knltiir in Reims, disastrous effect 
 
 of, 158. 
 
 LABOUR battalions in France, 
 patriotic keenness of, 20. 
 
 Lauzanne, Stephane, editor of 
 Le Matin, excellent 
 work hi Switzerland of, 
 252. 
 
 Leave for officers and men, 
 urgent need of, 46, 47. 
 
 Lichtervelde, Comte de, Baron 
 de Broqueville's secre- 
 tary, 178. 
 
 Life hi Reims, 158-158. 
 
 Lines of communication in 
 France, a delicate task, 
 16 ; comparison of, with 
 those of friendly and 
 enemy countries, ibid. 
 
 Little Belgian Army, the New, 
 177-185. 
 
 Liverpool, air bombardment of, 
 167. 
 
 Llopart, Captain, Swiss medical 
 officer to prisoners in 
 Switzerland, 237. 
 
 Lunn, Mr., his good work for 
 British prisoners in 
 Switzerland, 241. 
 
 MACKENZIE, Capt., a fighting 
 Salvationist, 81. 
 
 Macpherson, General, and field 
 operating theatres, 98. 
 
 Marconi, Commendatore, and 
 German secret wireless 
 apparatus in Spain, 267. 
 
 Mechanics, skilled, in France, 
 patriotic keenness of, 20. 
 
 Medical army, English, numerical 
 strength of, 90 seq.
 
 284 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Melis, Inspector - General, and 
 the medical arrange- 
 ments of Belgian Army, 
 184. 
 Men's wounded vanity at doing 
 
 women's work, 29. 
 Merridew, Mr., his essay on Eng- 
 lish hi Boulogne, 119. 
 Miniature battlefields in France, 
 
 22. 
 
 Monson, Lord, hi charge of the 
 British Red Cross hi the 
 Trentino, 220. 
 Motor ambulance, the, 87. 
 despatch riders, thrilling expe- 
 riences of, 14. 
 Mtirren, a day with the British 
 
 prisoners at, 289. 
 British bluejacket prisoners at, 
 
 285, 289. 
 English generosity to prisoners 
 
 at, 244. 
 
 French prisoner poilus at, 286. 
 games for British prisoners at, 
 
 289. 
 married prisoners at, wives' 
 
 visits to, 241, 242n. 
 organization for British prison- 
 ers steadily growing, 
 288. 
 
 substantial fare for British 
 prisoners at, 288. 
 
 NEISH, Colonel, reception by, at 
 Murren, 286, 287. 
 
 Neutral Glimpses, 225-288. 
 
 Nightingale, Florence, the pio- 
 neer of nursing, 80. 
 
 Norfolk, Duke of, places Norfolk 
 House at disposal of 
 Red Cross Society, 134. 
 
 Northcliffe, Lord, his forecast as 
 
 to the German failure 
 
 at Verdun justified, 174. 
 
 Mr. Moberley Bell and The 
 
 Times, 120. 
 
 personal connexion with the 
 Red Cross, and responsi- 
 bility for funds for, 107 
 
 Nurses behind the front, the 
 arduous nature of their 
 work, 7. 
 
 OBSERVATION balloons, watchful, 
 
 11. 
 
 Observing aeroplanes, 52. 
 Officers, Lady Dudley's care for 
 
 their comfort, 6, 7. 
 young, their insufficient pay 
 
 and allowances, 6. 
 Operations in the field rare, 98. 
 Order of St. John and its relation 
 
 with the Army Medical 
 
 Service, 12. 
 Orth, Major-General, and his 
 
 four " pets," 180. 
 Our Soldier Boys arrive in France, 
 
 3-8. 
 Oviedo, arrival at, 272. 
 
 PAQUIN, Mme., 29. 
 
 Peronne, West, advanced dress- 
 ing station at, 92 ; plan 
 of, 94 
 
 Perversion, an essay in, 261, 262. 
 
 Pe"tain, General, and Verdun, 169. 
 
 Pflster, Mme., an act of justice to, 
 154. 
 
 Picot, Colonel, ex - Military 
 Attach^ to our Lega- 
 tion hi Switzerland, 285, 
 240. 
 
 Pictorial records of the war, 
 kinematographers and 
 artists mobilized to 
 make, 89. 
 
 Pireli*, Captain, helps in record- 
 ing Italy's efforts hi 
 the war, 222. 
 
 Pommery, Mme., 29. 
 
 Porro, General, assistant to 
 General Cadorna, 76, 
 222. 
 
 Portugal, declaration of war by, 
 causes German exodus 
 into Spain, 255. 
 
 Poynter, Sir E., and Red Cross 
 Society, 113. 
 
 Pozieres, shells at, 11. 
 
 Princess Louise's home at Harde- 
 lot, 7. 
 
 Propaganda tricks, 249-254. 
 
 RED CROSS, Australian, 6, 85. 
 Red Cross Society, British, per- 
 fect organization of, 6.
 
 INDEX 
 
 285 
 
 Red Croat Society, ambulances 
 of, &c., 114. 
 
 Astor, Lord, lends 18, Carl- 
 ton House Terrace to, 
 118. 
 
 Battersea, Lady, Surrey 
 House lent by, 118. 
 
 Cecil, Lord Robert, and the 
 search for the missing, 
 188, 184. 
 
 Chatteris, Nichols & Co., 
 hon. auditors for, 118. 
 
 Clarke, Mr. E. M., Motor 
 Ambulance Depart- 
 ment controlled by, 115. 
 
 Coventry, the Hon. Reginald, 
 controls Travelling and 
 Passport Office, 116. 
 
 work of, near Cormons, 220. 
 
 departments of, 112, 113. 
 
 Devonshire, Duke and 
 Duchess of, lend Devon- 
 shire House to, 118. 
 
 Donoughmore, Earl of, 
 Commissioner of, 121. 
 
 Dudley, Georgina Lady, 
 controls Convalescent 
 Officers Department, 
 116. 
 
 economical administration 
 of funds of, 118. 
 
 Fitzpatrick, Mr. Herbert L., 
 Commissioner for Sa- 
 lon ica, 121. 
 
 Fox-Symons, Dr. Robert, 
 Auxiliary Home Hos- 
 pitals Department con- 
 trolled by, 116. 
 
 Franklin, Gen. Sir Benjamin, 
 controls Contract De- 
 partment, 116. 
 
 Furley, Sir John, controls 
 Hospital Trains Depart- 
 ment, 116. 
 
 Furse, Mrs. Charles, in 
 charge of V.A.D., 116. 
 
 Garstin, Sir William, Con- 
 troller of Stores and 
 Transport, 111, 115. 
 
 Gosford, Lady, in charge of 
 Central Workrooms, 116. 
 
 Gould, Col. Jay, Commis- 
 sioner for Mesopotamia, 
 121. 
 
 Red Cross Society, gratitude to, 
 for enquiries concerning 
 missing, 187 teg. 
 
 Headquarters of, 118. 
 
 How some of the money is 
 spent, 128-132. 
 
 Hudson, Sir Robert, Finan- 
 cial Manager of the Red 
 Cross, 110, 117. 
 
 indefatigable enquiries for 
 missing by, 137 et teq. 
 
 inspects Italian Red Cross 
 work, 220. 
 
 \tspersonnel, 114. 
 
 Jameson, Sir Starr, directs 
 parcels to prisoners of 
 war, 116. 
 
 Joint Committee's activi- 
 ties overseas, 114. 
 
 Kemp, Sons, Sendell & Co., 
 accountants for, 118. 
 
 Keogh, Sir Alfred, his good 
 work for, 120. 
 
 Lawley, Sir Arthur, in com- 
 mand at Boulogne, 120 
 
 Lucan, Lord, and the miss- 
 ing, 142. 
 
 Mallet, Sir Louis, and the 
 missing, 141. 
 
 Mayhew, Mr Basil, secretary 
 of Joint Finance Com- 
 mittee, 118, 119. 
 
 Monson, Lord, Italian Com- 
 missioner for, 121. 
 
 Montgomery, Col., Commis- 
 sioner for British East 
 Africa, 121. 
 
 no connexion with Govern- 
 ment, 111. 
 
 offices of, 113. 
 
 Plender, Sir W., reviews Red 
 Cross Finance, 117, 118. 
 
 Poynter, Sir E., and the 
 R.A.'sgenerosity to, 1 13. 
 
 Red Tape unknown, 97, 115. 
 
 retreat from Mons and, 107. 
 
 Ridsdale, Mr. E. A., 
 Acting Commissioner 
 for France, 121. 
 
 Russell, Sir C., chief of Col- 
 lections Committee, 115. 
 
 Salisbury, Lord, provides 
 quarters at Arlington 
 Street for, 134.
 
 286 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Red Cross Society, Search for the 
 
 Missing, 133-140. 
 Sloggett, Sir Arthur, 
 Director - General of 
 Medical Services of 
 British Armies in 
 France, 98, 120. 
 Somerleyton, Lord, Acting 
 Commissioner in France, 
 120. 
 
 Stanley, Hon. Arthur, Chair- 
 man of Joint Commit- 
 tee, 109; his affability 
 and firmness, 110 
 Swift, Miss, chief matron of 
 Trained Nurses' Depart- 
 ment, 116. 
 
 Thomson, Sir Courtauld, in 
 charge in the East, 120. 
 Times, The, its successful 
 appeal for funds for, 117 
 Trevelyan, Mr., his prac- 
 tical hospital ways, 125. 
 Treves, Sir Frederick, medi- 
 cal staff chosen by, 
 115. 
 
 union with Order of St. 
 John, The Times' work 
 for, 109 ; joint com- 
 mittee of, ibid. 
 Visits, 107-121. 
 Warre, Mr. George, in 
 charge of the Motor 
 Launch Department, 
 115. 
 
 woman's work for, 109. 
 Reims, Archbishop's ruined 
 
 palace at, 153. 
 Cathedral glass as souvenirs, 
 
 158. 
 pavement discoloured by 
 
 German blood, 158. 
 kept strictly closed, 156. 
 Kultur in horrid nakedness at, 
 
 153. 
 
 mutilated mansions in, 153. 
 persistent bombardment of, 
 
 154. 
 
 statue of Joan of Arc un- 
 damaged, 154. 
 visit to Notre Dame Cathedral, 
 
 157. 
 
 Rothschild, Lord, the late, and 
 the Red Cross, 109. 
 
 Royal Academy, its generosity to 
 the Red Cross Society, 
 113. 
 
 Army Medical Corps, perfect 
 organization of, 6 ; cas- 
 ualties among officers, 
 N.C.O.'s and men, 90. 
 Engineers and their unique 
 telephonic system, 13. 
 
 R.F.C., the, their splendid work 
 in France, 58. 
 
 ST. JOHN OF JERUSALEM, Order 
 of, 6, 90 ; world-wide 
 work of, 107. See also 
 Red Cross, British. 
 
 St. Mark's, Venice, Austrian 
 attempt to destroy, 221. 
 
 Salvage Corps, economical work 
 of, 17. 
 
 Salvation Army huts, 5. 
 
 San Sebastian, arrival at, 274 ; 
 neglected English graves 
 at, 276, 277. 
 
 Schools, war, hi France, 21. 
 
 Science and the saving of life, 
 37. 
 
 Scotch folk on lines of communi- 
 cation, 17. 
 
 Scott, Mr, and Mrs. Jebb, 244. 
 
 Secret agents, German, in Swit- 
 zerland, 228. 
 
 Signalling from aeroplanes, 51. 
 
 Sloggett, Sir Arthur, Director- 
 General of Medical 
 Service of British Armies 
 in France, 98, 120. 
 
 Society of Friends, 6. 
 
 Somme bombardment, intensity 
 of, 91. 
 
 Spain, Allies' black list, com- 
 plaint against, 271. 
 British sovereign at a discount 
 
 in, 256. 
 
 dear bread and coal in, 263. 
 flooded with German lies, 
 
 267. 
 Germany's 80,000 agents in, 
 
 267. 
 growing disgust at German 
 
 cruelties, 263. 
 
 Hun methods of propaganda 
 in, 263.
 
 INDEX 
 
 287 
 
 Spain, present prosperity of, 269. 
 
 pro-Ally Spaniards' state- 
 ments of harm caused 
 by non-issue of British 
 Army communiques, 
 267. 
 
 reasons for depreciation of 
 English sovereign, 267. 
 
 war fortunes made in, 263. 
 Spanish Court, views of the 
 average official on the 
 war, 266. 
 
 Government rumours of remon- 
 strance by, against Ger- 
 man atrocities, 263. 
 
 jealousy of Portugal, 269. 
 
 newspapers, their belief in 
 invincibility of Ger- 
 many, 256. 
 
 Press, misrepresentation of 
 Allies' news by, 264. 
 
 provincial Press, majority 
 Germanophile, 268. 
 
 towns, peace and gaiety of, 
 
 274. 
 Speeding-up at home, how it can 
 
 be effected, 21. 
 
 Stanley, Hon. Arthur, chairman 
 of Joint Committee of 
 Red Cross and St. John, 
 109, 110 
 
 Steed, Mr. Wickham, 166. 
 Suffragettes, woman's work ob- 
 scured by, 30 
 
 Swiss belief in Allies' cohesion, 
 German efforts to under- 
 mine belief in, 229. 
 
 good-heartedness to British 
 prisoners, 227. 
 
 Government's kind treatment 
 of our prisoners, 236. 
 
 labour leaders and prisoners' 
 work, 240. 
 
 Post Office, generosity of, to 
 British prisoners in 
 Germany, 245. 
 
 workmen prefer low wages in 
 their own country to 
 the higher wages of 
 Prussia, 232. 
 
 Switzerland afraid of Germany, 
 230. 
 
 chastening effect of war on, 
 230. 
 
 Switzerland, French, good work 
 
 of our Allies in, 229. 
 interned prisoners in, 236. 
 
 TELEPHONIC system, the Royal 
 Engineers' unique, 13. 
 
 Thomson, Sir Courtauld, in- 
 spects Italian Red Cross 
 work, 220. 
 
 Tiger, sinking of the, 167, 168. 
 
 Times, The, and its good work for 
 the Red Cross, 107. 
 
 Tradesmen's delivery vans at the 
 front, 39. 
 
 Trains, hospital, 100 seq. 
 
 Transport, the, overcomes all 
 difficulties, 12. 
 
 Trenchard, General, Sir Douglas 
 Haig remarks on the 
 General's young air- 
 men, 62. 
 
 Trentino Front, enemy at, not 
 
 underestimated, 219. 
 terrible effect of shell fire on 
 the, 218. 
 
 Trevelyan, Mr. George Macaulay, 
 in Gorizia, 192 
 
 UNDER the Six Stars, 79-85. 
 Unprintable Anglo-Saxon, 96 
 
 V.A.D., the good work of, 99 ; 
 a German officer's ap- 
 preciation of, ibid. ; 
 tireless activity of 
 nurses and doctors, 99, 
 100 ; absence of com- 
 plaints against, 100. 
 Vandalism by the Austrians,221 
 Verdun, arrival at, 38 seq. ; 
 161-174; Crown 
 
 Prince's army at, 161 ; 
 German faults at, ibid. ; 
 French losses at insig- 
 nificant, 162 ; situa- 
 tion of, 164 ; climatic 
 conditions, 164, 165 ; 
 battle of, 165 ; Douau- 
 mont Fort, 167; Red
 
 2 88 
 
 Verdun cont. 
 
 Cross and Order of St. 
 John stations at, 168 ; 
 General P6tain and, 
 169 ; his resemblance 
 to Lord Roberts, ibid. ; 
 a prophetical forecast 
 by Lord Northcliffe, 
 174 ; German-Swiss 
 puzzled about, 227 ; a 
 cure for German in- 
 vincibility in Spain, 
 264. 
 
 WALKING Wounded Collecting 
 
 Stations, 96. 
 
 Ward, Mrs. Humphry, 14. 
 War doctors, the, 89-103. 
 
 topsy-turveydoms of, 235. 
 Ware, Brigadier- General Fabian, 
 
 chief of the Graves 
 
 RegistrationCommittee, 
 
 135. 
 
 Warplane of 1916, the, 15, 16 
 Warplanes, 51-55. 
 
 armoured, 52. 
 Warre, Mr. George, in charge of 
 
 the Motor Launch 
 
 Department of the Red 
 
 Cross, 115. 
 
 War schools at the front, 21, 22. 
 Waste of 1914 a thing of the past, 
 
 16, 17. 
 
 products, ingenuity in utiliza- 
 tion of, 17. 
 Wealthy Germans in Spain as 
 
 active propagandists, 
 
 268. 
 Wielemans, General, Chief of 
 
 Belgian Staff, 179. 
 Wilson, President, a hero of 
 
 Spanish Germanophiles, 
 
 265. 
 Wimereux, the King's doctor at, 
 
 6. 
 to Etaples, a series of palatial 
 
 hospitals, 7 
 
 Wireless apparatus, secret, Com- 
 mendatore Marconi's 
 views concerning, 267. 
 telegraphy at the front, 13. 
 
 With the Germans in Spain, 255- 
 
 268. 
 
 Italians, 189-215. 
 our released prisoners in 
 Switzerland, 235-242. 
 
 Woman's part in the war, 29. 
 work obscured by hysteria of 
 Suffragettes, 30. 
 
 Women, how they are helping in 
 
 the war, 81. 
 
 their adaptability for war 
 work, 30. 
 
 " Woodbines " at Miirren, 287. 
 
 Woods, Mr. J. A. W., his self- 
 sacrifice, 239. 
 
 Workers at the front, considera- 
 tion for, 18. 
 
 Workshops behind the Army, 14. 
 
 Wounded vanity of men who are 
 doing women's work, 
 29. 
 
 Wright, Orville, generosity of 
 re British patents for 
 aircraft, 51. 
 Bros., pioneers of aircraft, 51. 
 
 Wyndham, Lieut.-Col. W. F. G., 
 M.V.O., 245. 
 
 X-RAY apparatus in the Trentino, 
 220. 
 
 Y.M.C.A. not distributors of 
 
 tracts, 5. 
 its ubiquity, 5. 
 
 Young officers, their insufficient 
 pay and allowances, 6. 
 
 ZEPPELINS, aeroplanes, andstrong 
 
 winds, 55. 
 Zurich, arrival at, 225. 
 
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