So the average Briton and the average American retire to a secluded
spot, and "get together." The American repeats his question:
"Why can't your people over there be a bit kinder? Why can't you
consider our feelings a bit more? You haven't been over and above
polite to us of late--or indeed at any time."
"No," admits the Briton thoughtfully, "I suppose we have not.
Politeness is not exactly our strong suit. In my country we are not
even polite to one another!" (Try as he will, he cannot help saying
this with just the least air of pride and satisfaction.) "But I admit
that that is no reason why we should be impolite to other nations. The
fact is, being almost impervious to criticism ourselves, we naturally
find it difficult to avoid wounding the feelings of a people which is
particularly sensitive in that respect."
"Very well," replies the American. "Now, we want to put this right,
don't we?"
"We do," replies the other, with quite un-British enthusiasm. "No one
who has spent any time as a visitor to this country could help----"
"Why then, tell me," interpolates the other, "what is at the back of
your country's present resentful attitude toward America?"
The Briton ponders.
"Didn't someone once say," he replies at last, "that 'he that is not
for us is against us?' That seems to sum up the situation. We on our
side are engaged in a life-and-death struggle for the freedom of the
world. We know that you are not against us; still, considering the
sacredness of our cause, and the monstrous means by which the Boche is
seeking to further his, we feel that you have not stood for us so out
and out as you might. Only the other day your Government announced
that in their opinion it was time that both sides stated plainly what
they were fighting for! Now----"
The other checks him.
"Don't you go mixing up the officially neutral American Government,"
he says, "with the American people, or the American people with the
inhabitants of America. In many districts of America, the balance of
power lies with people who have only recently entered the country, and
who have not yet become absorbed into the American people. As for our
present Government, it was put into power mainly by the people of the
West--people to whom the War has not come home in any way--and the
Government, having to consider the wishes of the majority, naturally
carries out the instructions on its ticket. That is how I, as an
average American, sense the situation. However, that is not the
point. Listen!
"You say that America has not helped you very much? Let us consider
the ways in which America _could_ have helped. Military aid? Well, of
course that is out of the question so long as we remain neutral, as we
agreed just now we certainly ought to remain. Still, there are more
than twenty-five thousand American citizens serving in the Allied
Armies to-day. Did you realize that?"
"I did not," says the Briton, interested.
"Well, it is true. There are battalions in the Canadian Army composed
almost entirely of men from the United States. Others are serving in
the French and British Armies. Then there is the American Flying
Corps in France."
"Yes, I have heard of them. Who has not? Proceed!"
"Industrial help, again. We are making munitions for you, night and
day. It is true that we are being paid for our trouble; but the cost
of living has risen almost as much here as in your own country. Also
let me tell you that we are making no munitions for Germany, and would
not do so, money or no. The same with financial help. Loan after loan
has been floated in this country for the Allied benefit. How many
loans have been raised for Germany? Not one! That is not because
German credit is so bad, but because no true American will consent to
lend his money to such a cause. Believe me, the attempt has been made,
and strong influence brought to bear, more than once, but the result
has been failure every time.
"Red Cross Work, again. There are hundreds of Americans driving
ambulances in the Allied lines to-day, and hundreds of American women
working in Allied hospitals. There are complete hospital units over
there, equipped and maintained by American money and American service.
Have you ever heard of the Harvard Unit, for instance?"
"Vaguely. Tell me about it."
"Well, I mention the Harvard Unit because it was about the first; but
others are doing nobly too. Let Harvard serve as a sample. At the
outbreak of the War, Harvard put down ten thousand dollars to equip
and staff the American Ambulance Hospital in Paris. Then, in June,
1915, Harvard took over one of your British Base Hospitals, with
thirty-two surgeons and seventy-five nurses. That hospital has been
maintained by Harvard folk ever since; they go out and serve for three
months at a time. Harvard also sent an expedition to fight typhus in
Serbia. Harvard's casualty list, in consequence, has grown pretty
long. Not a bad record for one neutral University, eh? I don't seem to
remember your Oxford or Cambridge sending out a medical unit to help
us, when we were fighting for a moral issue too, away back in the
'sixties under Lincoln."
"I knew nothing of all this. People at home must be told," says the
Briton, earnestly.
"Or," continues the American, we can take the work of the American
Ambulance Field service. The American Ambulance Field Service with the
Armies of France has carried over seven hundred thousand wounded since
the beginning of the war; their sections and section leaders have been
sixteen times cited for valuable and efficient work; fifty-four of
their men have been given the Croix de Guerre for bravery, and two the
Médaille Militaire. Three have been killed. The Society has at present
over two hundred ambulances at the front, besides staff and other
cars attached to different sections. This Service, which, at the
beginning of the war, was a subsidiary part of the American Ambulance
Hospital at Neuilly has for the past year been self-supporting, and
although still co-operative with the Hospital, has its own
administration and headquarters, and its own maintenance fund. If you
require any further information on the subject, read 'Friends of
France,'[1] or 'Ambulance No. 10,'[2] both of which books will stir
you not a little.
"Talking of books, if you want to read a genuine American's opinion
of the Allies and their cause, read 'Their Spirit,'[3] by Judge Robert
Grant. And if you want to know what another prominent American, who
formerly admired and reverenced Germany, thinks of Germany now, read
Owen Wister's 'Pentecost of Calamity.'[4] Or, if you want a complete
exposure of German aims and methods in this war, read James M. Beck's
'The Evidence in the Case'.[5]
"Now a word concerning War Relief Societies in general. (There's more
to hear than you thought, isn't there?) I cannot possibly give you
details about them all, because their name is legion. For instance,
this printed list contains the names of a hundred and ten such
societies; and there are others. As you see, it covers Armenian,
Belgian, British, French, Italian, Lithuanian, Persian, Polish, and
Russian Relief enterprises of every kind. German Relief Societies?
Yes, throughout the United States there are eleven German and Austrian
Societies altogether; but they are all under purely Teutonic
management, as a glance at the names of their supporters will show.
America, as such, stands aloof from them.
"Let us have a look at the purely British Relief Societies, which
naturally will interest you most. There is The American Women's War
Hospital at Paignton, Devonshire, directed by Lady Paget, herself an
American, and supported by American contributions. It is a far cry
from America to Australia, but there is an Australian War Relief Fund
in America. Then take the British War Relief Association of America.
This Association occupies an entire floor in a lofty building on the
busiest stretch of Fifth Avenue. All day and every day they work away,
cutting surgical dressings at the rate of nine thousand yards a week.
They also collect and despatch comforts of every kind, from motor
ambulances to antiseptic pads. The rent of their premises is eight
thousand dollars a year; but they get the whole place free. Their
landlord, an American citizen, has given them that floor for the
duration of the war, as his contribution to the fund. Isn't that
pretty fine? Again, there is an American branch of your own Prince of
Wales' fund. There is a United States Guild for British Soldiers'
Comforts; there is an Indian Soldiers' Fund Committee, and many
others. These, as you see, are purely pro-British organizations, but
naturally your country also benefits under all general schemes of
Allied Relief. Last summer, for instance a great bazaar was held in
New York in aid of Allied War Charities, and over half a million
dollars were cleared. Another bazaar, held more recently in Boston,
raised over four hundred thousand dollars. Another, in Chicago, was
equally successful. And so the tale goes on. France and Belgium, of
course, receive the lion's share of American sympathy, as being
invaded countries, but I have told you enough to show what we are
trying to do for Great Britain too. We are somewhat handicapped,
however, by the fact, firstly, that Great Britain is not exactly what
one would call a gracious receiver of benefits, and secondly, that the
man in the street over here regards your country as too fabulously
rich to require relief of any kind. But after all, it is the spirit
of good will which counts, and you have all ours.
"Well, the list which I have shown you will give you some idea of the
big forces which are working for you over on this side. But big forces
are made up of little forces. As we say in this country, it is the
little things that tell. All over America I could show you little
sewing meetings and social gatherings which have got together for the
purpose of preparing clothing and medical comforts for the Allies.
Even in cities like Milwaukee and Cincinnati, which have the
reputation of being overwhelmingly Teutonic, there exist very
efficient and plucky Allied Relief Societies which are carrying on in
the face of open hostility. There is hardly a village or township
that does not possess such a society. You have a song in England about
'Sister Susie Sewing Shirts for Soldiers.' Well, over here in the
States, your cousin Susie is doing precisely the same thing. She is
doing it so extensively that it has been found necessary to establish
a great clearing house in New York to deal with the gifts as they come
in, sort them out, and forward them to their destinations. The
Clearing House also knows where to stretch out its hand for particular
commodities. For instance, if there is a shortage of absorbent cotton,
the Clearing House sends an appeal to Virginia for some more, and
Virginia sends it. Here is a copy of the monthly bulletin. They appear
to have been busy. You notice that during one period of seven days
last month, this Clearing House handled over a thousand cases of
material a day.
"Yes, a clearing-house like this calls for some organization and
labour. Who supply that? A number of American business men, each of
whom has decided to run his business with his left hand for the
present, leaving his right hand free for War Relief.
"Besides gifts in kind, these same organizations send gifts in money.
Between seventy and eighty of the leading clubs in America have
formulated a scheme under which members who feel so disposed may have
five dollars or so debited to their monthly bill, to be devoted to
Allied Relief work. During the last three months about eighty thousand
dollars has been raised and distributed by the Clearing House from
this source.
"Our Relief work is both collective and individual. At one end of the
scale you find a scheme for raising a hundred million dollars to
maintain and educate Belgian and French orphans. At the other, I could
show you a poor woman in Boston who is living on a mere pittance,
because she gives every cent that she can possibly spare to Allied
Relief. I know many American business men who cross the Atlantic
several times a year: on these occasions they seldom fail to take
with them, as part of their personal baggage, a trunk stuffed with
surgical dressings, rare drugs, and the like. Again, do you know who
presented to your nation St. Dunstan's, the great institution for
blinded soldiers in Regent's Park, London? An American citizen. So you
see, here we are, the American people, the greatest race of
advertisers in the world, doing all this good work, and saying nothing
whatever about it. Doesn't that strike you as significant?"
"It strikes me as magnificent," says the Briton.
"Well," rejoins the other, I don't allow that it is magnificent, but
it is pretty good. We might do more--ten times more. For instance,
all our contributions to Belgian relief don't amount to more than the
merest fraction of what France and Great Britain, in the midst of all
the agony and impoverishment of their own people, have contrived to
give. Still, I think I have said enough to show you that we are doing
something. You'll tell the folks at home, won't you? It hurts us badly
to be regarded as cold blooded opportunists."
"Trust me; I'll tell them!" says the Briton warmly.
And the Get-Together ends.