THE LITTLE SHIPS
I have been particularly impressed with two misconceptions which
have existed, and to some extent still exist, not only in Germany
but in neutral countries. The first is that England lacks
virility, is degenerate, has had her day of greatness; the second,
that in the present war she is continuing what is alleged to have
been her policy in the past, namely, pulling the strings and
reaping the benefit while other nations do the fighting. Through
personal investigation I find these contentions so thoroughly
refuted that to develop the point would be to commence another book
instead of finishing this one.
As I write I can look from my desk in the Alexandra Hotel,
Bridlington, on to the North Sea where it washes the "Frightfulness
Coast," for Bridlington lies between Hull and Scarborough.
I see trawlers fishing and mine-sweeping whenever I raise my eyes
from my writing. Their crews know that they work in the shadow of
death in what they describe in the dock-side taverns as the
greatest sport in the world. Praise of the big ships often causes
us to forget the little ships. I admire the one and reverence the
other. For if the men on the humbler craft could be intimidated,
the doctrine of Frightfulness would be justified by victory.
Intimidation is a favourite weapon of the people across the Rhine.
I was among them when their airmen dropped bombs on Paris early in
the war. "It is really humane," they said, "for it will frighten
the civilian population into imploring the military to yield to us
to save them." They thought the same of Zeppelin raids over
England. Intimidation was their guiding star in Belgium. The
first I heard of the massacre of Louvain was from one of its
perpetrators.
Intimidation was again their weapon in the case of Captain Fryatt.
"We planned it well," snarled a member of the Reichstag, incensed
over my expression of disapproval, "Before we sent our ships to
intercept the _Brussels_ we determined to capture him, try him
quickly and execute him. Since our submarines will win the war we
must protect them by all passible means. You see, when the next
British captain thinks of ramming one of our submarines he will
remember the fate of Captain Fryatt and think twice!"
Once more Germany is attempting intimidation, and seeking to make
neutrals her ally in an attempt to starve Britain into defeat. The
American Ambassador is leaving Berlin, hundreds of neutral vessels
hug havens of safety all over the world, but the women in Grimsby
and Hull still wave farewell to the little trawlers that slip down
the Humber to grapple with death. Freighters, mine-sweepers,
trawlers, and the rest of the unsung tollers of the sea continue
their silent, all-important task. They know that for them Germany
has declared the law off, that they will be slaughtered at sight.
They know also that despite the Grand Fleet and the armies in
France, the Allies and their cause will go down in complete defeat
if Germany succeeds in blocking the routes of commerce. The
insurmountable obstacle in her path is the simple, old-fashioned
dogged courage of the average British seaman.
The Germans have developed to an astounding degree the quality of
incorrectly diagnosing other peoples, due partly to the unbounded
conceit engendered by their three wars of unification and their
rapid increase of prosperity. Their mental food in recent years
has been war, conquest, disparagement of others and glorification
of self. They entered the struggle thinking only in army corps and
siege artillery. Certain undefinable moral qualities, such as the
last-ditch spirit of the old British Army on the Yser, did not come
within their scope of reckoning.
British illusions of the early part of the war are gone. The
average Briton fully appreciates Germany's gigantic strength, and
he coldly realises that as conditions are at present, his country
must supply most of the driving force--men, guns, and shells--to
break it. He thinks of the awful cost in life, and the thought
makes him serious, but he is ready for any sacrifice. He welcomes
help from Allies and neutrals, but whether the help be great or
small, he is willing and resolved to stand on his own feet, and
carry on to the end. It is this spirit which makes Britain
magnificent to-day.
When losses are brought home to the Germans they generally give
vent to their feelings by hurling maledictions upon their enemies.
The Briton, under similar circumstances, is usually remarkably
quiet, but, unlike the German, he is _individually_ more
determined, in consequence of the loss, to see the thing through.
Somehow the German always made me feel that his war determination
had been organised for him.
Organisation is the glory and the curse of Germany. The Germans
are by nature and training easily influenced, and as a mass they
can be led as readily in the right path as in the wrong.
Common-sense administration and co-operation have made their cities
places of beauty, health, comfort and pleasure. But when you stop
for a moment in your admiration of the streets, buildings, statues,
bridges, in such a city as Munich and enter a crowded hall to sit
among people who listen with attention, obedience and delight to a
professor venomously instructing them in their duty of "hating with
the whole heart and the whole mind," and convincing them that "only
through hate can the greatest obstacles be overcome," you begin to
suspect that something is wrong.
It is part of the Prussian nature to push everything to extremes, a
trait which has advantages and disadvantages. It has resulted in
brilliant achievements in chemical and physical laboratories, and
in gout, dyspepsia and flabbiness in eating establishments. A
virtue carried too far becomes a vice. In Germany patriotism
becomes jingoistic hatred and contempt for others, organisation
becomes the utilisation of servility, obedience becomes willingness
to do wrong at command.
Americans and British are inclined to ascribe to the Germans their
own qualities. In nothing is this more obvious than in the English
idea that the fair treatment of Germans in England, will beget fair
treatment of the English in Germany. The Prussians, who have many
Oriental characteristics--and some of them, a good deal of Oriental
appearance--think orientally and attribute fair, or what we call
sportsmanlike, treatment to fright and a desire to curry favour.
When Maubeuge fell I heard Germans of all classes boast of how
their soldiers struck the British who offered to shake hands after
they surrendered to the Germans. Nearly two years later, during
the Battle of the Somme, some Berlin papers copied from London
papers a report of how British soldiers presented arms to the group
of prisoners who had stubbornly defended Ovillers. I called the
attention of several German acquaintances to this as an evidence of
Anglo-Saxon sporting spirit, but I got practically the same
response in every case. "Yes, they are beginning at last to see
what we can do!" was the angry remark.
The Germans have become more and more "Prussianised" in recent
years. State worship had advanced so far that the German people
entered the conflict in the perverted belief that the German
Government had used every means to avert war. It is a mistake,
however, to suppose that the German people entered the war
reluctantly. They did not. There was perfect unity in the joyful
thought of German invincibility, easy and complete victory, plenty
of plunder, and such huge indemnities that the growing burden of
taxation would be thrown off their shoulders.
A country where the innocent children are scientifically inoculated
with the virus of hate, where force, and only force, is held to be
the determinant internationally of mine and thine, where the morals
of the farmyard, are preached from the professorial chair in order
to manufacture human cogs for the machine of militarism, is an
undesirable and a dangerous neighbour and will continue so until it
accepts other standards. A victorious Germany would not accept
other standards.
That is why I look on the little ships with so much admiration this
morning. They sail between Germany and victory, for if they could
be intimidated Britain would be starved out. Then the gospel that
"only through hate can the greatest obstacles be overcome," would
be the corner-stone of the most powerful Empire of history.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Land of Deepening Shadow, by D. Thomas Curtin