The climax of meanness and selfishness would seem to be reached when an
armed man shelters himself behind the unarmed; yet it is not the climax,
for here the artist depicts a body of German troops sheltering
themselves behind women, calculating that the Belgians will not fire on
their own countrywomen and unarmed friends, and that so the attack may
safely gain an advantage.
There is a studied contrast between the calm, orderly march of the
troops with shouldered arms and the huddled, disorderly progress to
which the townspeople are compelled. These are not marching; they are
going to their death. Several of the women have their hands raised in
frantic anguish, their eyes are like the eyes of insanity, and one at
least has her mouth open to emit a shriek of terror. Two of the men are
in even worse condition; they are collapsing, one forward, one backward,
with outstretched hands as if grasping at help. The rest march on,
courageously or stolidly. Some seem hardly to understand, some
understand and accept their fate with calm resignation.
One old woman walks quietly with bowed head submissive. In the front
walks a priest, his hand raised in the gesture of blessing his flock.
The heroism of the Catholic priesthood both in France and in Belgium
forms one of the most honourable features of the Great War, and stands
in striking contrast with the calculating diplomatic policy of the
Papacy. There is always the same tendency in the "chief priests" of
every race and period to be tempted to sacrifice moral considerations to
expediency, and to prefer the empty fabric of an imposing Church
establishment to the people who make the Church. But the clergy of
Belgium are there to prove what the Church can do for mankind. This
cartoon would be incomplete and would deserve condemnation as inartistic
if it were not redeemed by the priest and the old woman.