PROBLEMS OF THE FUTURE
Plain though these facts are, the
Entente nations, and in particular the British people,
either ignore them wholly or misinterpret their purport.
Hence we continue absorbed in the pursuit of interests,
parochial and parliamentary, which though quite human,
are utterly off the line of racial and imperial progress.
We obstinately shut our eyes to the magnitude of the
Sphinx question that confronts us, and we address
ourselves to one-and that the least important-of
its many facets, and content ourselves with tackling
that. We descant upon the turpitude of the Teuton
who from the regions of idealism in which Goethe,
Herder and their contemporaries dwelt has sunk into
shift, treason and murder, and we proclaim our faith
in the ultimate triumph of right, justice and of the
democracy in which alone they flourish. But this
frame of mind, which moves us to identify ourselves
with all that is best in humanity, if cultivated will
prove fatal. It accustoms us to dangerous hallucinations.
We assume that we are the chosen people, and we neglect
the virtues which alone would justify our election.
For generations we have been reaping and wasting, instead
of ploughing and sowing. We have been living
on our capital, nay, on our credit, and have long
since overdrawn our account. Our successes in
the past, sometimes the result of fortuitous circumstances,
more often of the blunders of our rivals, inspire
a presumptuous confidence in successes for the future
and a conviction that come what may we are destined
to muddle through. A special providence is watching
over us-a cousin German to the Kaiser’s
“good old God.” In truth we are tempting
Fate, postulating an exception to the law of cause
and effect, and looking for Hebrew miracles in the
twentieth century after Christ.
Were it otherwise, the nation would
not have continued to entrust its destinies to the
men who misguided it consistently and perseveringly
for so many years, to the watchmen who saw nothing
of the rocks and sandbanks ahead which it was their
function to discern and their duty to avoid, and who
are now unwittingly but effectually deluding the people
into believing that the present campaign, which is
but a single episode in a long-spun-out contest, is
an independent event which began in August 1914 and
may end this year or the next. These same leaders
are busily inculcating the delusive notion that the
diplomatic instrument which will one day close hostilities
will be a treaty of peace. And they are seemingly
prepared to negotiate its terms on that assumption.
In truth, we are engaged in a duel
which began thirty years ago, gave the Germans such
booty as Heligoland, their world-trade, their wealth,
their formidable navy, their Baghdad Railway, their
various overseas colonies, their European Allies,
and the enormous resources with which when this acute
phase of the contest is over they will re-transfer
the venue to the economic and political domains and
carry on the struggle with greater vigour than before.
And peace terms concluded on any other supposition
cannot be conducive to the national welfare. We
are locked in a deadly embrace with a compact people
of 120,000,000, of indomitable spirit, boundless resources,
unquenchable faith and a single aim. Yet we are
already looking forward to the time in the near future
when our intercourse, however circumscribed, with this
nation will be essentially pacific, and when we can
revert to our cherished narrow interests and our easy-going
dilettantism. We feed upon the hope that in a
few brief years the British nation will have got safely
back to its old beaten grooves, and not only business
and sport but everything else will go on as usual.
Yet all the salient facts which force themselves on
our attention to-day, all the decisive events of the
past thirty years are cogent proofs of the unbroken
sequence of a trial of strength which the future historian
and the present statesman, if there be one, must characterize
as a life-and-death struggle between the champions
of the new Teuton politico-social ordering and the
partisans of the old. But after the lapse of a
generation and with the record of all our losses before
us, we have not yet formed a right conception of the
situation, and its issues, or of the historic forces
at work. In these circumstances, no degree of
sagacity can help us to devise the only policy in which
salvation resides. The prevailing mistaken conception
must be rectified before any headway can be made against
the currents that are fast bearing us down. And
the time at our disposal is brief.
It needs few words to characterize
the effects which the dreamy optimism of the Entente
nations had on their method of mobilizing their resources
to carry on the war. Taken unawares they had nothing
ready. Misapprehending the nature of the issues
and the redoubtable character of the contest, they
pursued subordinate aims with insufficient means.
The most daring strategical moves of the enemy, in
war as in diplomacy, they ridiculed as either bluff
or madness. The journalistic campaign in neutral
countries they scoffed at as vain, and put their faith
in the final triumph of truth. Their financial
measures, oscillating from one extreme to another,
denoted the absence of any settled plan, of any clear-cut
picture of the needs of the moment. The odds
in their favour, which circumstance had given and
circumstance might take away again, they looked upon
as inalienable, until they ended by forfeiting them
all. Viewing the campaign as a transient event,
the British Government prosecuted it by means of make-shifts,
instead of radical measures. Obligatory service
was scouted at as un-English. Discriminating
customs tariffs were condemned as heretical.
It was not until the enemy had occupied Poland, overrun
Serbia, driven the Allied troops from the Dardanelles,
bent Montenegro to the yoke, threatened Egypt, Riga
and Petrograd, that some rays of light penetrated
the atmosphere of ignorance and prejudice through
which the Allies surveyed the European welter.
They had begun by counting upon the breaking up of
the Habsburg Monarchy. They felt sure that the
Tsar’s armies would capture Budapest and advance
on Berlin. They planned the defeat of Germany
by famine. They built another fabric of hopes
on “Kitchener’s Great Army” in the
spring of 1915. But one after another these anticipations
were belied by events. And now the nation blithely
accepts the further forecasts of the men who are chargeable
with this long sequence of avoidable errors.
Respect for individual liberty was
carried to such a point in Great Britain that organizations
against recruiting were tolerated in England and Ireland,
and strikes, which not only inflicted heavy pecuniary
losses on the nation but actually stopped its supplies
of munitions and brought it within sight of discomfiture,
were treated with soft words and immediate concessions.
One cannot read even Mr. Lloyd George’s summary
narrative of the preposterous doings of British slackers
without wondering whether salvation is still possible.
These men not only refused to work their best for
the community, but forbade their comrades to work
well. At Enfield, we are told, a man was obliged
by trade union regulations so to regulate his work
that he did not earn more than 1_s._ an hour, though
he could easily have earned 2_s._ 6_d._ Another
man was doing two and a half days’ work in two
days, and when he refused to carry out the behest of
the Ironfounders’ Board to waste the other half
day he was fined L1. A consequence of this anti-national
attitude was that “we had to wait for weeks
in Birmingham with machinery lying idle, with our men
without rifles, with our men with a most inadequate
supply of machine guns to attack the enemy and defend
themselves." Every one will re-echo the Minister’s
comment on the outlook, if this attitude is persisted
in-“we are making straight for disaster.”
Compare this state of things with
that which rules in Germany. It is a British
Minister who describes it: “If you want
to realize what organized labour in this war means,
read the story of the last twelve months. By
the end of September the German armies were checked.
They sustained an overwhelming defeat in France, Russia
was advancing against them towards the Carpathians,
and I believe in East Prussia. That is not the
case to-day. Why? The German workmen came
in; organized labour in Germany prepared to take the
field. They worked and worked quietly, persistently,
continuously, without stint or strife, without restriction
for months and months, through the autumn, through
the winter, through the spring. Then came that
avalanche of shot and shell which broke the great
Russian armies and drove them back. That was
the victory of the German workmen."
Great Britain is the classic land
of strikes. Strikers are sacred among us.
Industrial compulsion is rank heresy.
That is one of our difficulties, and
by no means the least formidable. The nation,
despite the superb example of patriotic heroism given
by all classes, parties, provinces and colonies of
the Empire, is still deficient in cohesiveness.
No fire of enthusiasm has yet burned fiercely enough
among all sections of the Empire and all members of
the race to fuse them in such a compact unified organism
as we behold in the Teuton’s Fatherland.
Read the characteristic given of us by the ex-German
Minister Dernburg, and say whether it is over-coloured.
Discoursing on the difficulties which Britain has to
cope with in carrying on the war, he says: “They
are intensified ... by the narrow-minded customs of
the English trade unions, which contrast with the
patriotic behaviour of the German associations of the
like nature as night contrasts with day." This
is melancholy reading for those whose hopes are fervent
for a bright future of the British race, and it prepares
them to listen in anxious silence to the general conclusion
at which the Prussian ex-Minister arrives: “It
is in the highest degree improbable,” he says,
“that after the winding up of this contest England
will be able to keep or wield any form of economic
superiority whatever over Germany.”
In our Allies we find a strong touch
of resemblance to ourselves. Their state of unpreparedness
is amazing, if less desperate than ours. Russia,
it is true, did much better at the outset than friend
or foe anticipated, and she might have done quite
well if only she had been supplied with munitions.
But she had not nearly enough, and her armies were
slaughtered like sheep in consequence. Then there
were no boots for the soldiers, who were forced to
wear thin canvas leggings with leather soles.
And scores of waggon-loads of incapacitated men were
taken to Petrograd and other cities whose feet had
been frozen for lack of shoe-leather. One of
the urgent wants of the Tsardom are railways, which
the late Count Witte was so eager to construct.
When hostilities opened, the insufficiency of communications
became one of the decisive factors in Russia’s
disasters. And it was heightened by the conduct
of, shall we say, the prussianized officials,
who are reported to have disposed of waggons for large
sums to greedy merchants, who used to raise the prices
of the merchandise and batten on the misery of their
fellows.
Trains, needed to supply the fighting
men at the front with food and the wounded at the
rear with medicaments, were kept back to suit the
schemes of these greedy cormorants. Gratuities,
it is openly affirmed, had to be paid by Red Cross
and other officers to those subordinate railway servants
who had it in their power to send on a train or shunt
it off for days on a side-track. Bribery is working
havoc in the Tsardom. In January 1916 the Moscow
municipality discussed the advisability of voting
a certain sum of money and putting it at the disposal
of the chief officer of the city, to be discreetly
employed in transactions with complacent railway officials,
in order to further the work of reducing prices on
necessaries of life. The motive adduced for this
homoeopathic way of treating a social distemper were
the conditions of life in Russia and the necessity
of complying with them. But as the Statute Book
does not recognize these conditions and condemns bribery
absolutely, a vote on the subject was not taken.
Acting on instructions issued by the
Finance Minister, a Member of the Council of the Finance
Ministry, D. I. Zassiadko, visited the Kharkoff circuit
for the purpose of studying the bribery problem on
the spot. M. Zassiadko acquired the conviction
“on the spot” that the railway officials
do really take bribes, “and even of considerable
amounts.” But, that ascertained, the representative
of the Ministry decided to delve deeper to the root
of the matter. And he reached the conclusion
that railway servants belong to the class of the tempted.
The evil, he reported, resides not in the circumstance
that they take bribes, but that bribes are offered
whereby these weak little souls are seduced.
The representative of the Ministry discovered an entire
category of bribes which do not bear the signs of extortion,
but only of “gratitude.” To us this
conclusion sounds somewhat naïve. The most widely
circulated journal of Petrograd prefaces an article
on the subject as follows.
“The misdeeds of the officials
and bribery on the railway system cry out to heaven,”
writes the organ of the Constitutional Democrats.
“Compared with the reverses on the Carpathians
and in Poland, the defeats we are sustaining in our
own house and behind the enemy’s back are much
greater....” On the important line Petrograd-Moscow-Perm
scandalous cases of corruption took place in which,
according to Russian journals, officials of a class
who might reasonably be regarded as unbribable were
implicated. They are alleged to have let out
to firms of speculators for large sums of money, goods
waggons which were already destined to carry consignments
to the front. Russia’s purchases abroad
have made a profound impression on the peoples in
whose midst they were effected. The principles
on which these transactions were carried on provoked
lively comments. It is not that they revealed
a superlative degree of disorganization. That
touch would have merely marked the kinship of the
men concerned with their allies. By the discovery
that the Russian Government’s purchasing Commissioners,
the representatives of one of its embassies, the agents
of the British Government and the equally zealous agents
of the French Government were all secretly bidding
against each other for the same rifles to be delivered
to the Tsar’s Ministers, only a smile of recognition
was elicited. It may have seemed at once amusing
and consolatory to find that all were tarred with
the same brush. But when it was discovered that
the offer of certain army necessaries was put off
for weeks and weeks, although they were to be had under
cost price, and was then accepted at a much higher
price, profound sympathy was felt for the Tsar’s
armies.
Chaos, waste and a variety of abuses
that pressed heavily on the poorer classes marked
the efforts made by the Russian Government to cope
with the scarcity of fuel, corn and other necessaries
which began to be felt soon after the war. The
rolling stock, it was complained, was utterly insufficient,
yet it was found possible to transport 1,000,000 poods
weight of mineral water of doubtful quality. When
trains arrived bringing supplies to the suffering population,
it turned out that there were no hands to unload the
waggons. And when labour was requisitioned, vehicles
were not to be had. In October 1915 on the rails
of Moscow station five thousand waggons, laden with
life’s necessaries, stood waiting and waiting
in vain for the unskilled labour which ought to have
been abundant, considering the number of the population
and of the refugees. At the same time 2000 waggons
were on the rails of the Petrograd station, their contents
lying unutilized. It is only by the lack of order
and organization that one can explain the facts that
in Petrograd the inhabitants have no butter, while
in the places where butter is made it is being sold
cheaper than before, at 12 in lieu of 16 to 18 roubles
a pood. In the province of Ekaterinograd, mines
which own 800,000 poods of coal cannot get more than
a few waggon loads of it every month.
Russia has incomparably more than
enough fuel, without importing any, to satisfy all
the needs of her 180,000,000 inhabitants. But
owing to the insufficiency of communications, and
still more to the lack of forethought and enterprise,
the population of many cities and towns underwent
serious hardships in consequence of the impossibility
of acquiring coal or wood. In September 1915
the Petrograd region could obtain no more than 65
per cent. of the necessary quantity, and a month later
only 49 per cent. In Moscow the plight of the
inhabitants was worse. In September they could
get but 26 per cent. of their needs and in October
40 per cent. According to the Minister of Commerce,
who volunteered these data, the condition of the towns
of Rostoff, Novotcherkassk, Nakhitchevan, Taganrog,
Ekaterinodar and others was not a whit better.
The city of Vyatka was, according to the Novoye
Vremya, in January 1916 without fuel, while
the mercury registered 30 degrees Reaumur below freezing-point.
The unfortunate citizens heated their homes with fragments
of hoardings, tables, desks and stools. And yet
there is abundant fuel in the superb forests with
which Vyatka is surrounded, and, what is more to the
point, the city authorities had received during the
preceding spring 60,000 roubles for the purpose of
purchasing a supply of wood for the winter. But
they did nothing, organization not being one of their
strong points.
Live stock in Russia has diminished
during the war to a much larger extent than was anticipated.
The peasantry, owing to the prohibition of alcohol,
now consume from 150 to 200 per cent. more meat than
before, and what with the refugees from Poland, the
prisoners of war and the increased needs of the army,
no less than 20 per cent. of the cattle of the entire
Empire was used during the first eighteen months
and 30 per cent. of the stock of all European Russia.
In consequence of the shortage and of the irregularity
of the transport, three days of abstinence from meat
were ordained. Yet in January 1916 a discovery
was casually made in the Kieff forests between Byelitch
and Pushtsha Voditzka, which caused considerable lifting
of the eyebrows. About 8000 head of cattle and
several thousand sheep were found with no cowherds,
shepherds or owners, wandering about from place to
place. Scores of them were succumbing to hunger
and cold every day. The paths in the woods were
covered with the dead bodies of kine, calves and sheep.
The journal which records this fact affirms that these
herds belong to the Union of Zemstvos, which had purchased
them from the peasants who had to flee from the occupied
provinces. The President of the Union of Zemstvos
is said to have confirmed this odd story with the
qualification that the forlorn horned cattle and sheep
are the property not of the Union of Zemstvos, but
of the Ministry of Agriculture, which is alone answerable.
In France, as well as in Russia, the
professional organizers, especially the civilians,
were very much adrift. In the army all the sterling
qualities of the French nation at its best, and many
that were deemed extinct, but are now seen to have
been only dormant, shone forth resplendent. Valour,
fortitude, staying power, self-abnegation for the
common good, became household virtues. Friends
and foes were equally surprised. But the civil
administration remained well-meaning, patriotic and
unregenerate to the last. The old Adam lived
and acted up to his reputation.
Before the war the French railway
administration had been criticized severely.
It is not for a foreigner to express an opinion on
the internal ordering of a country not his own, but
unbiassed French experts found that the strictures
were called for and the verdict, in which the public
acquiesced, was well grounded. Subsequently, when
the struggle began and the railway system was tested,
people had reason to remember the previous complaints,
for they saw how little had been done in the meanwhile
to remove the causes of dissatisfaction. The
first drawback was the want of rolling stock.
“Give us waggons and we will execute all orders
and supply the War Ministry,” cried the munitions
firms. “There are no waggons in the ports,
and we cannot get the coal delivered,” exclaimed
the importers. “The country is threatened
with general paralysis,” wrote the Journal;
“we can neither forward nor sell anything.”
The railway administration asked for a fortnight’s
notice, then for three weeks and finally an indefinite
period, before it could provide a single truck.
“I have fertilizing stuff to forward before
the season is past,” pleads the representative
of one firm. “We have no waggons,”
is the reply. “I must have my produce delivered
at once to the Government,” argues another,
“for it is wanted for the fabrication of powder.”
But the answer came promptly: “There are
no waggons.” “But you have waggons.
I see them over there” (the station was Cognac).
“Yes, but we may not touch them. They belong
to the military engineering department.”
“Well, but what are they doing there?”
“Ah, that is none of our business."
And in the ports, at the termini,
at intermediate stations, the merchandise lay heaped
up, immobilized, while the merchants, the middlemen,
the manufacturers, the Government, the army were waiting,
time was lapsing, and the fate of the Republic and
the nation hanging in the balance. At Havre great
machines, destined for a Paris firm which was to have
delivered them to factories making shells, lay untouched
for two months. The number of shells lost in this
way has never been calculated. Yet it was well
known that during all that time there were numbers
of waggons available. What had become of them?
The answer was: They are to be found everywhere,
immobilized. It is a case of general immobilization
of the rolling stock. People slept in them, turned
them into cottages, used them as warehouses, each individual
reasoning that one waggon more or less would not be
missed. And as this argument was used by large
numbers of easy-going, well-meaning people the result
was appalling.
The most terrific war known to history
was raging in three Continents, and one group of belligerents,
unaware or heedless of the magnitude of the issues,
kept wasting its enormous resources and throwing away
its advantages. At the little station of Cognac
waggons laden with all kinds of war materials, barbed
wire, galvanized wire, etc., were detained from
September 1914 until November 1915, 400 days in all,
doing nothing. Forty-two waggons ready to move
were found on two grass-covered rails. Fourteen
waggons were there since September 1914. Eight
since December of the same year, twenty since June.
Altogether at the modest little station of Cognac
the total recorded by Senator Humbert’s Journal
was 228,500 tons-days. “All this during
the most tremendous war the world has ever witnessed,
in which hundreds of thousands of men have been slain,
where we have continually been short of war material,
while industry and commerce are agonizing for lack
of means of transport. It may well seem a dream."
Seven hundred French railway stations
were devoid of rolling stock. On the other hand,
from the beginning of the war down to November 1915,
729 waggons were lying immobilized at the station of
Blanc-Mesnil. Seven hundred and twenty-nine!
Merchants, manufacturers, importers, all were being
literally beggared for lack of transports while hundreds
of waggons lay rotting at obscure little stations for
over a year. “The whole region of the West
is encumbered,” we read, “with 30,000,000
hectolitres of apples, valued at 300,000,000 francs,
which cannot be conveyed anywhither, and which people
are beginning to bury in the earth as manure.
Sugar is scarce and is rising in price, whereas ever
since last August a single firm has unloaded 10,000
tons of sugar at Havre which it cannot have transported
to Paris. Innumerable army purveyors are unable
to send the machines for the shells....”
An official order to the army prescribed a substitute
for barbed wire, which was not to be had at any price,
yet at a single station at least 135 tons of barbed
wire were lying for a twelvemonth unused, untouched.
On November 27, 1915, the military hospital N16 at
Poitiers needed coal. A request was made by telephone.
The reply received was: “We have coal at
La Rochelle, but there are no waggons to carry it.”
Yet there were forty-two waggons immobilized at Cognac,
729 at Blanc-Mesnil and 121 standing laden with barbed
wire and other materials for over a year!
Organization and intelligence!
With engines the experience was the
same. The French Government, anxious to make
up for the deficiency, purchased 140 engines of British
make to be delivered some time in 1916. Yet at
that time there were at the station of Mezidon (Calvados)
over 500 engines immobilized, nobody knew why or by
whom. This cemetery of locomotives was photographed
by the Journal. Such was the harvest reaped
by the enterprising Senator Humbert’s commission
at that one station. There were others.
At Marles six Belgian engines, at Serquigny twenty,
etc.
The attention of the French authorities
having been called to this unqualifiable neglect,
a senatorial railway commission was appointed to inquire
into the matter, and it reported that: “The
engines in question, numbering about 2000, of which
1000 on the State railway system are now going to
be repaired.” “There are therefore
2000 engines scandalously abandoned,” comments
the Journal, ... “forgotten during sixteen
months, and having passed from the state of being
inutilized to that of being inutilizable. For
if these machines, which were in service before the
war and came from Belgium, are to-day, like the waggons
of Blanc-Mesnil, incapable of being utilized in their
present state, as the official note puts it, the reason
is that they were left to decay in the rain and the
wind without cover or case for five hundred days."
Interesting in a smaller way is the
reply given by the French War Minister to a question
by a deputy, the Marquis de Ludre, who asked for information
about a consignment of knives which had been provided
for the army, but were found to be quite useless.
The Minister explained that the Generalissimus
having requested the immediate dispatch of 165,000
knives, the department charged with the execution
of the order had no time to examine the goods, and
the circumstance was overlooked that all kinds of
knives were supplied, without any reference to the
purpose for which they were destined. The Minister
added that no one should be blamed for this, inasmuch
as it was “the result of exaggerated but praiseworthy
zeal.” This construction is charitable
and may be true in fact. But the soldiers who,
in lieu of a serviceable blade, found themselves in
possession of a dessert knife may have taken a different
view of the transaction.
This is hardly what is understood by organization.
Beside those scenes from chaos set
this picture of order: “In a small French
town in which the supreme étape commando of
Kluck’s army was situated, we inspected a field
postal station. On the ground floor the letters
were being received and delivered. The stream
of soldiers was endless. They were sending field
postcards, which are forwarded gratuitously.
The difficult work of sorting the correspondence was
being transacted on the first storey. Every day
from 1800 to 2000 post sacks arrive, mostly with small
packets and postcards, and day after day the same
difficult problem presents itself-how to
find the addressee. Many regiments, it is true,
have permanent quarters, but there are mobile columns
as well. Quick transfers are possible, and individuals
may be shifted to another place or incorporated in
a different regiment. The arranging of the correspondence
went forward in a spacious room; the letters which
it was difficult to deliver were handed over to a
number of specialists, who sat in an adjoining apartment
and studied all the changes caused by the transfer
of troops. They found help in an address-book
containing a list of all the field formations.
About once every four days, or even oftener, a new
edition of this work was issued. By the middle
of December 1914 the eighty-fourth edition was in
print."
This talent for organization, this
capacity of thought concentration in circumstances
which tend to strengthen emotion at the cost of reason,
have been constantly displayed by our enemies throughout
the entire struggle of the past thirty years, and
never more conspicuously than during the present war.
Every emergency found them ready. The most unlikely
eventualities had been foreseen and provided for.
Private initiative, which “grandmotherly legislation”
was supposed to have killed, was more alert and resourceful
than among any of the Entente nations. Every
German is in some respects an agent of his Government.
Each one thinks he foresees some eventuality with the
genesis of which he is especially conversant, and he
forthwith communicates his forecast and at the same
time his plan for coping with the danger to some official.
And all suggestions are thankfully received and dealt
with on their intrinsic merits. For such matters
the rulers of the Empire, however engrossed by urgent
problems, have always time and money.
It is instructive and may possibly
be helpful to compare this spirit of detachment from
the personal and party elements of the situation,
this accessibility to every call of patriotic duty,
this self-possession under conditions calculated to
hinder calm deliberation, with the hesitations, the
bewilderment, the conflicting decisions of the Entente
leaders and their impatience of unauthorized initiative
and offers of private assistance. Outsiders are
not wanted. Their money is not rejected, but
nothing else that they tender is readily received.
In other more momentous matters the
Allies also lagged behind their adversaries.
Despite their vast resources and the generous offers
of private help, the care taken of the wounded left
a good deal to be desired. The articles on this
subject which were published in the London Press provided
ample food for bitter reflection. In France, at
the beginning of the war, wounded soldiers, after receiving
first aid, were conveyed for days in carts over uneven
roads to the hospitals in which they were to be treated.
An American gentleman, witnessing the sufferings of
these victims of circumstance, collected a number
of motors in which to have them transported rapidly
and with relative comfort. But his offer of these
conveyances was rejected by all the departments to
which he applied. And it was only after he had
spent weeks in visiting influential friends in London
that he finally obtained an introduction to the Secretary
for War, who, overriding the decisions of his subordinates,
closed with the proposal and sent the benefactor with
his motors to the front.
It has been affirmed by unbiassed
neutral witnesses who evinced special interest in
the subject that tens of thousands of the allied wounded
who died of their injuries might have been saved had
they had proper care. But defective organization
and other avoidable causes deprived them of efficient
medical help.
By Great Britain more comprehensive
measures were fitfully taken, of which our wounded
have reaped the benefit. A French journal
enumerated, with a high tribute of praise, the results
of the observations made by a commission of British
physicians in the Grand Palais Hospital in Paris:
“More than half, to be exact 54 per cent., of
the wounded entrusted to the care of the doctors of
the Grand Palais since last May have been sent back
to the front, completely cured. What an achievement!”
Undoubtedly it is a feat to be proud of, if we compare
it with the percentage of cured in certain other countries
and in the Dardanelles. But if we set it side
by side with what is claimed for and by the Germans,
it may appear less remarkable. It cannot be gainsaid
that the British authorities have spared neither money
nor pains to alleviate the sufferings and heal the
injuries of the wounded. And if the measure of
their success is still capable of being extended,
the reason certainly does not lie in any lack of good
will.
On the incapacitated German soldier
every possible care is bestowed. His every need
is foreseen and when possible provided for with an
eye to thoroughness and economy. Waste and niggardliness
are sedulously eschewed. Every man is provided
with a square of canvas with eyelets, which serves
as a carpet on which he lies at night, as a stretcher
on which, when wounded, he is carried to the place
where he can have his injuries attended to, and which,
when he is killed, is used as a winding-sheet.
The medical organization of the army is as thorough
as the military. And the results attained justify
the solicitude displayed. From month to month
the percentage of wounded who are able to return to
the front has been augmenting steadily, and the death-rate
has decreased correspondingly. During the first
month of the war, out of every hundred wounded there
were 84.8 capable of further service, 3.0 dead, and
12.2 incapacitated or sent home. In September
of the same year the number of those able to return
to the front rose to 88.1, or about 4 per cent. more.
And at the same time the death-rate sank from 3 to
2.7 per cent. In the third month the proportion
of soldiers able to resume their places in the ranks
of fighters was 88.9, while the deaths had been reduced
to 2.4. During the period beginning with November
and ending in March the number of the wounded who
went back to the front oscillated between 87.3 and
88.9. In November the percentage of deaths was
only 2.1 per cent., and in December only 1.7 per cent.
January 1916 showed a further improvement, the death-rate
having fallen to 1.4 and in February 1.3 per cent.
During the two following months the percentage rose
again to 1.4, but declined slowly until in June and
July it had descended to 1.2 per cent. The number
of wounded men who were sent back to their places
at the front had meanwhile increased by April to 91.2,
and by June 1915 to 91.7, and in May and July to 91.8.
Seven per cent. were wholly incapacitated or dismissed
to their homes. Among the latter a considerable
percentage returned subsequently to the ranks.
Altogether, then, about 91.8 per cent. of the wounded
German soldiers who fall in battle are so well taken
care of that they are able to fight again, and no
more than 1.2 per cent. of the total number succumb
to their wounds.
This strict conformity to the material
and psychological conditions of success marks the
method by which the Germans proceed to realize a grandiose
plan which is understood and furthered by one and all.
Their talent for organization, their insight, their
inventiveness, and their highly developed social sense
are all pressed into the service of this patriotic
cause. And it is to these permanent qualities,
more even than to their thirty years’ military
and economic preparation, that they owe their many
successes. The cynicism and ruthlessness of our
arch-enemy should not be allowed to blind us to his
enterprise, his stoicism, his meticulous applications
of the law of cause and effect. These are among
his most valuable assets, and unless we have solid
advantages of our own to set against and outweigh them,
our appeals to the justice of our cause and our denunciations
of his wicked designs will avail us nothing.
It is to our interest to seek out and note whatever
strength is inherent in himself or his methods and
to appropriate that. The struggle will ultimately
be decided by the superiority of equipment, material
and moral, which one side possesses over the other.
As for the conceptions of public law and international
right which the antagonists severally stand for, they
must be gauged by quite other standards than heavy
guns and asphyxiating gases. It is not impossible
that in the course of time, and by dint of reciprocal
action and reaction, the German views may be sufficiently
modified and moralized to render possible the usual
process of assimilation with which the history of
speculative ideas and social movements has rendered
us familiar. Meanwhile, truth compels us to admit
that part at least of the western system is being
overtaken by decay, and stands in need of speedy and
thorough renovation.