THE NEW WAR

One sees this not alone in the--it is more than contempt of

death--in the godlike preoccupation of her people under arms

which makes them put death out of the account, but in the

equal passion and fervour with which her people throughout

give themselves to the smallest as well as the greatest tasks

that may in any way serve their sword. I might tell you

something that I saw of the cleaning out of certain latrines;

of the education and antecedents of the cleaners; what they

said in the matter and how perfectly the work was done. There

was a little Rabelais in it, naturally, but the rest was pure

devotion, rejoicing to be of use.

Similarly with stables, barricades, and barbed-wire work, the

clearing and piling away of wrecked house-rubbish, the serving

of meals till the service rocks on its poor tired feet, but

keeps its temper; and all the unlovely, monotonous details

that go with war.

The women, as I have tried to show, work stride for stride

with the men, with hearts as resolute and a spirit that has

little mercy for short-comings. A woman takes her place

wherever she can relieve a man--in the shop, at the posts, on

the tramways, the hotels, and a thousand other businesses.

She is inured to field-work, and half the harvest of France

this year lies in her lap. One feels at every turn how her

men trust her. She knows, for she shares everything with her

world, what has befallen her sisters who are now in German

hands, and her soul is the undying flame behind the men's

steel. Neither men nor women have any illusion as to miracles

presently to be performed which shall "sweep out" or "drive

back" the Boche. Since the Army is the Nation, they know

much, though they are officially told little. They all

recognize that the old-fashioned "victory" of the past is

almost as obsolete as a rifle in a front-line trench. They

all accept the new war, which means grinding down and wearing

out the enemy by every means and plan and device that can be

compassed. It is slow and expensive, but as deadly sure as

the logic that leads them to make it their one work, their

sole thought, their single preoccupation.

France at War: On the Frontier of Civilization · 第 44 / 45 题