New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1915-07-20
WarLike France BuStleS
While England Busters
nez Milholland Boissevain Tells Of "Amable Middle
headed Britain and Describes Trip to the Front
Through the Republics Military Hustle
By INEZ MILHOLLAND BOISSEVAIN
(Copyright, 1915, By The New York Tribune)

sort Of boy | mean-the big, strapping
boy, the athlete, the manly, blooded
boy, the hero of the school, because Of
his physical excellence. He has a great
/ ly exaggerated opinion of his capaci-
ties, although he wears his honors with
a show of modesty. Out in the world,
however, he sees with astonishment
that he is left behind, surpassed often
by the boy that he despised-the quiet,
unimaginative boy, "the grind" for
whom he had feeling of pride in his
"bookiness," but also feeling Of con-
tempt for his inexpertness.
Well, England is like that. Her Writ
ues are the physical virtues Of
athletic boyhood, hardihood, cour-
age, team work-virtues that have
made her excel. But the world has
grown beyond that stage in its develop
ment, and England does not know IT,
What does it mean? The virtues Of
England are the virtues that have made
/ the world go round. Is there no more
use for them to-day? Is it possible
that science and Imagination and or
ganization and efficiency have taken
their place? Impossible. England re-
fuses to believe it. And am afraid she
! will have to bite the dust before she
| the obstinacy of the schoolboy grown,
and, like the schOolboy, she chafes and
busters and calls names-and falls be-
hind. But she will pull herself to-
/ gether to meet the conditions of a
newer world, of that | have no doubt,
only-she has to learn humility and
] self-analysis.
Pleasant Little ShOotings.
After luncheon we were off-not, how
ever, before we had obtained all sorts
of permissions from all sorts of gen.
erals in the town. We had been warned
of sentres and their pleasant little
habit of shooting at those who passed
them. In England, for example, raw
recruit was put on guard. A boy, fell
low townsman of his, passed him on a
bicycle, presumably not having heard
the order to halt. The sentry fired and
the ball passed through the lads Shout
der, bringing him to the ground. The
sentry, his nerves afame, rushed up to
| the PROSTATE boy and bayoneted him
to death. This, if you please, in quiet
countryside, far away from the scream
( ing whirl and madness of the battle
line. Do you wonder that there are
atrocities-and that they are not con-
fined to one side? They are the inevi-
table accompaniment of terror. Men
whose nerves ere stretched and strained
in fear are not responsible for their
conduct toward those who have inspired
that fear; they are mad beasts.
Proving War Is Like Art.
Our notions about sentres made us
considerably nervous. Imagine, then,
our surprise at the first barrier. a
charming little soldier came forward
with q gun held timidly in front of him
and q hesitant, apologize expression in
his gentle eyes. He appealed TO me as
little child appeals TO me or kitten
or a foundering, helpless baby horse
I wanted earnestly to squeeze him or
pat his head or bless him. All | could
do to express my appreciation of his
appealing charm was TO give him q
cigarette when formalities were done
with. But | shall never forget that
brown eyed little sentry-he was no:
hoy, either, but man Of perhaps thlr
ty-hve.
He smiled and murmured something
and called his superior officer, who ex
amined our papers with the dignity
that is not oficious, with courtesy, dis
patch and kindly interest. IL was che
same all through that afternoon N
sunny France. | suppose we were chal-
lenged between twenty and thirty times
but always the process was quiet, qulcH
and courteous. Bless France and the
people!
Astir with Military Hustle.
We scurried along the fiat French
road, going as fast as sixty miles an
hour at times. for the road was de-
serted-that is. il was barren OF IT'S
fha
stripped the countryside. In the be-
ginning we passed a steady stream of
motor cars, containing officers; motor
horses and trucks of one sort and an
other, containing supplies and ammuni-
ton, bound for the front, but later
these thinned out. The railroad line
from Boulogne to Paris goes within SIX
miles, | believe, of the firing line, but
the road lies twenty or thirty miles
behind. We passed through towns that
were astir with military hustle-one
} the town where was stored the horses
and supplies; another which contained
the hospital for the Indian soldiers;
another where a regiment was waiting
in reserve. Everywhere were British
= Tommies, fraternizing cheerily with
the French. AS we got further away
from the base of operations the sol
diers in the towns became fewer anc
1ewer, and when we saw that the town:
were desolate. The houses those un'
friendly French houses that look IKE
barricades, with their uncompromislna
stone walls rising from the street
were suffered and still. The women
struggled through the lifeless streets
dull eyed, weary, waiting. AS the cal
= passed young girls peeped from be
hind the blinds, craving, | suppose
some manifestation Cf the life that was
no more. | could not help thinking
; that if we had been an invading Ger
man army we should have had very
little difficulty in persuadlng those
eager Young women to friendliness anC
: perhaps to love. They were in the
heydey of pulsating life, and their owr
men were gone, never, perhaps, to come
again. | know what | should have
done, as young girl, cheated OF
throbbing life, left behind to drearN
driven existence in a deserted town
On we went past the fields, wher'
there are only women and young boys
at work. Presently we had a terrific
blowout. and while we waited for 4
TO be mended we chatted with an ole
peasant. who told us of the desolatior
of his countryside. al ne nous resten'
plus que les femmes." Only the womer
, are left.
At Beauvais. where we stopped tC
purchase a tire from the army. we
found the liveliness of the garrison
J town. Everything seemed to be stir
ring A speck of an aeroplane fai
overhead brought crowds out of th'
narrow. twisted streets into the square
Apparently they were more certain
than | that il was not hostile.
We left Beauvais and rushed on
d D.--,r- oVartonk