The Washington herald., 1919-05-04
CONTINUED FROM PAGE ONE

OF Tommy Atkins? i have often tired
to find out. and It was not easy for
wore the uniform of an officer and
intimate conversation was difhcult on
the roads OF war and in dug-outs and
trenches at odd moments.
The young English soldier does not
wear his heart on his sleeve to "give
himself away" as he calls IL. to any
passerby. But now and then 1 gain
ed glimpses Of the thoughts OF these
lads more evading than their Yes.
sir" and mo. sir"
Glow Of a Charcoal Fire.
remember a group of them 1 met
in a night In Ypres. when the enemy
was shelling the town, as usual They
were making cocoa on little charcoal
stoves, screened behind some buried
walls. and 1 sat with them and talk
cd.
At first they talked with that pecu-
liar light-hearted irony with which
as a rule they masked all deeper
thoughts. One boy in this group OF
Postoffice Rifles announced to his
comrades. who laughed very heartily.
that he was going to chuck his job.
The wages weren't good enough and
promotion was slow. Another boy
said II am a citizen of no mean En-
plTt, DuL what neil Is NuC I@AhPAi o
going to do for me when the next
shell blows of both my bleeding
legs?'
This remark was also received by a
gust of subdued laughter. silenced for
a moment by a roar and upheaval Of
masonry somewhere by the ruins OF
the Cloth Hall.
II was a young fellow with clean
cut face I saw in the glow of the
charcoal fire who later In the night
revealed something of his soul and
the thoughts working in the mines
of his pals.
Its the length of the war" said
he. which does one down. At first
II seemed like a big adventure and
the excitement of it. horrible though
1t was. kept one going. Even the first
time l went over the top wasn't so
bad as thought it would be. / was
dazed and drunk with all sorts Of
emotions, including fear. that were
worse before going over. / had what
we call the needle
''They all have 1t. Afterwards one
didn't know what one was doing
even the killing part of the business.
until one reached the objective and
lay down and had time to think, and
to count the dead about.
Now the excitement has gone out
of II and the war looks as though
it would go on forever. At first We
all searched the papers for some
hope that the end was near. We don't
do that now. We know that when
ever the war ends, this year or next.
this little world will be mostly wiped
out. Bound to be. And why are We
going to die? That's what all of US
want to know. What's it all about?
"Oh. yes, know the usual answers:
In defense Of liberty To save the
Empire But we've all lost our lib
erty. We're slaves under shellfire.
And as for the Empire-I don't give
a curse for it. I'm thinking only of
my little home at Streatham Hill. The
horrible Hun:
I've no quarrel with the poor
bIighter over there by Hooge They
are in the same bloody mess as we
are. They hate it just as much. We
are all under a spell together. which
some devils have put on US. O.. won
der if there's a God anywhere"
Under n Black Spell.
This sense of being under a black
spell I found expressed by other men.
and by German prisoners who used
SdiliC ptlhd dSc. Il ANihtthibCt OhC VI
them in the battles of the Somme
who said i'm good English:
This war was not made in any
sense by mankind. We are under a
spell" This belief was due. / think,
to the impersonal character of mod
ern warfare in which gunfire is al
so long a range that shellfire has the
quality of natural and elemental pow
ers of death-like thunderbolts-and
men killed twenty miles behind the
lines while walking over sunny fields
or in busy villages had had no thought
of a human enemy desiring their in
dividual death.
what ChapIaIns Had to Meet.
God and Christianity raised per-
plexities in the minds Of simple lads
desiring life and not death. They
could not reconcile the Christian pre-
cepts of the chaplain with the bayo-
netting of Germans and the shambles
of the battlefelds.
All this blood and mangled flesh in
the fields of France and Flanders
seemed to them-to many of them,
know-a certain proof that God did
not exist. or if He did exist was not
as they were told. a God of Love.
but a monster glad of the agonies of
men.
That at least was the thought ex-
pressed to me by some London lads
who argued the matter with me one
day before the German drive in March
and that was the thought which our
army chaplains had to meet from men
who would not be put of by conven-
tional words
II was not good enough to tell them
that the Germans were guilty of this
crime and that unless the Germans
were beaten the world would lose its
liberty and life.
Yes. we all know that" they said.
but why did God allow the Germans
and how is it that both sides pray to
the same God for victory? There must
be something wrong somewhere"
supcr.titIons that Helped.
II was not often men talked like
that, except to some chaplain who
was human. comradely soul. some
Catholic padre" who devoted him.
self fearlessly to their bodily and
spiritual needs. risking his life with
them. or to some Presbyterian minis
ter who brought them hot cocoa un-
der shellfire with a CHEEKY word or
two. as ! once heard, of Keep your
hearts up. my lads. and your heads
down.
Most of the men became fatalists,
with odd superstitions in the place of
faith Its no good worrying" they
said. IF your name Is written on
a German shell you can't escape 1t,
and if it isn't written nothing can
touch you"
Tommy Hated war.
Officers as well as men had this IA
taliStic belief and superstifions that