Meantime, both in England and in France, there has
been a growing sentiment that the government’s
policy of silence has been a mistake. The cudgel
of public opinion is a heavy one. The German propaganda
in America has gone on steadily. There is no
argument where one side only is presented. That
splendid and solid part of the American people, the
German population, essentially and naturally patriotic,
keeping their faith in the Fatherland, is constantly
presenting its case; and against that nothing official
has been offered.
England is fighting heroically, stoically; but her
stoicism is a vital mistake. This silence has
nothing whatever to do with military movements, their
success or their failure. It is more fundamental,
an inherent characteristic of the English character,
founded on reserve—perhaps tinged with
that often misunderstood conviction of the Britisher
that other persons cannot be really interested in what
is strictly another’s affairs.
The Allies are beginning to realise, however, that
this war is not their own affair alone. It affects
the world too profoundly. Mentally, morally,
spiritually and commercially, it is an upheaval in
which all must suffer.
And the English people, who have sent and are sending
the very flower of their country’s manhood to
the front, are beginning to regret the error in judgment
that has left the rest of the English-speaking world
in comparative ignorance of the true situation.
They are sending the best they have—men
of high ideals, who, as volunteers, go out to fight
for what they consider a just cause. The old
families, in which love of country and self-sacrifice
are traditions, have suffered heavily.
The crux of the situation is Belgium—the
violation of her neutrality; the conduct of the invading
army; her unnecessary and unjustifiable suffering.
And Belgium has felt that the time to speak has come.
THE CAUSE
The Belgian Red Cross may well be proud of the hospital
at La Panne. It is modern, thoroughly organised,
completely equipped. Within two weeks of the
outbreak of the war it was receiving patients.
It was not at the front then. But the German
tide has forced itself along until now it is almost
on the line.
Generally speaking, order had taken the place of the
early chaos in the hospital situation when I was at
the front. The British hospitals were a satisfaction
to visit. The French situation was not so good.
The isolated French hospitals were still in need of
everything, even of anaesthetics. The lack of
an organised nursing system was being keenly felt.
But the early handicaps of unpreparedness and overwhelming
numbers of patients had been overcome to a large extent.
Scientific management and modern efficiency had stepped
in. Things were still capable of improvement.
Gentlemen ambulance drivers are not always to be depended
on. Nurses are not all of the same standard of
efficiency. Supplies of one sort exceeded the
demand, while other things were entirely lacking.
Food of the kind that was needed by the very ill was
scarce, expensive and difficult to secure at any price.
