Part 35

"Some years before the outbreak of war there lived in a certain German town, now frequently raided by air squadrons, an old Englishwoman. She was a semi-invalid; difficult and cantankerous. Subject to illusions, she imagined that the good nuns, who received her as an unremunerative paying guest, were in league against her mangy, but beloved dog. Yet both she and her dog continued to receive the half-humorous tolerance of their benefactors.

"Then came the 4th of August, 1914, and Miss X. passed into the mists of war.

"A year later she emerged from the mists.

"A letter came, forwarded through a neutral in Switzerland; but the letter was not from the pen of Miss X. It had been dictated. Briefly, it said: 'I am bed-ridden and almost blind. I have hardly anything to live upon; and the Germans will not let me go.'

"Certain details were added which clearly established identity to the recipient of the letter. There followed, on the same sheet of paper, and in the same handwriting, a postscript: 'Sir, I have taken this poor Englishwoman into my house. How can she live on 10 marks a month?

Yours, Fraeulein ...'

"Intervened the British Foreign Office and the American Embassy. Then came another letter: 'Sir, your efforts have not been in vain....

Fraeulein ...'

"But that is not the end of this incident of war. 'Hate.' had still its 'uses.'

"'Sir. I thank you for your good letter and your very kind question. All is paid, hospital and funeral. There were 30 marks left to have the grave a little arranged.

Fraeulein ...'"

My correspondent adds the following comment: "I was an enemy, and ye took me in."

In Vienna newspapers there were in 1915 many advertisements in which French, English, and Russian natives offer their services as teachers, thus:

London Lady (Diploma) gives lessons.--L. Balman, VI Bez. Gumpendorferstrasse 5, Th. 14.

Frenchman and Frenchwoman give instruction in French.--VIII, Lerchengasse 10.

An Irishwoman, brought up in England, gives lessons.--Letters to Miss Morris.

Such advertisements, we learn from the International Review of July, 1915, appear daily in Vienna.

From Die Hilfe, June 22, 1915: "in a weekly concert in Noyon the collaborators were Prof. Riviere, Sergeant Bonhoff, and Director Guenzel. The performance of the Frenchman from an organ composition of his own was most effective." There are, of course, also exhibitions of narrow-mindedness. In Halle the police forbade a performance because one of those who took part was an "enemy alien." (Vorwaerts, June 1, 1915.) On the other hand, when some Italian musicians complained of unjust dismissal, the court awarded them damages of 700 marks. The Volksstimme, of Frankfurt a.M., June 8, 1915, writing of Italy, deprecates any hatred of Italians. As soon as the responsible authorities had decided on war, obedience was the duty of each Italian citizen, just as of each German. This outspoken deference to "responsible authority" is characteristically German, but the doctrine is here applied with great fairness. Some of our militarists apply it less fairly. And, alas, when the Italian Avanti published an article "Against the Blunders of International Hate," the wisdom of the Censor caused it to be largely blanked out. The Censors seem to have strict orders to keep us hating each other.

BROTHERHOOD AGAIN.

And yet--"We picked up scrappily the hint, however, that 'some of the Germans were all right.'" This from an article in the Times on a homecomer from the front. With unconscious self-revelation the writer adds: "That somehow sounds depressing. One has heard the opposite." Just so, it is disconcerting and depressing to have it suggested that the enemy is a man very much like ourselves; it injures our feeling of superiority. We "confess" any favourable impression of him as if it were a fault of our own. A correspondent of the Petit Parisien tells of the capture of a German officer of Hussars, near Arras. "I confess," he says, "that the impression he produced was rather favourable than otherwise." (Daily Telegraph, June 11, 1915.)

With others the confession is less reluctant.

There's one spot in Ploegsteert Wood that German shells ought never to reach. It's a grave with a carefully made wooden cross on it, and the lettering says:

"Here lie two gallant German officers."

"That's rather unexpected," said a civilian who was with us.

"But they were brave," said the major. "The Germans aren't always so bad. Five officers from my regiment were missing one time, and we never even expected to find their bodies. But when we drove the Germans back we found a grave on which was marked: 'Here lie five brave English officers.' We identified them all, and their bodies were taken back to England."

We followed another sidewalk and came to a huge mound covered with yellow flowers, which had been planted by the English soldiers. On a neatly made cross at the head of the mound an English soldier had patiently printed the words: "Here lie seventeen German soldiers."

There wasn't an English grave in Ploegsteert Wood that was better tended or more heavily beflowered than these mounds of fallen Germans.--Mr. W. G. SHEPHERD, Special Correspondent of the United Press.

Daily News, June 1, 1915.