Evening star., 1934-07-29

no scars. Just as there were no vet
erans. Cheerful cafes invited us to
see the sights Of battlefields, the
great ossuary," as though it were
circus that had been pitched for our
entertainment.
Nature Fergets.
Cheerful and smartly dressed young
officers trooped into a new and hand
some officers hotel overlooking river
that had run blood. Unless one de-
Iberately sought those acres Of
crosses where the dead had been
transferred. no stranger could have
suspected that less than 20 years ago
the air was foul with the stencil of
corpses. not a blade of grass lived in
the Autumn fields, not a tree had a
branch of Leaf, not a bird dared to
traverse the deadly air.
Yes, Nature forgets. Whfn I walked
across the field of Gettysburg it was
hard to recall that desperate day when
a sundered Nation had been at death
grips. But Gettysburg, after all. was
many years ago, and most of those
who had fought on that desperate
field were dead. But those who sur
vived at Verdun are living, most of
them, and not one of us, throughout
two continents, Is without some mark
of that four years carnage on our
lives.
I would not have human beings
forget as Nature forgets. 1t seems
folly to open old wounds, and yet
would open them, and this twentieth
anniversary of the worlds lapse into
madness seems an appropriate mo-
ment to make the probe, in the hope
that a painful memory shall keep us
alert to q danger that may leap
upon US.
Time Effaces Scars.
In July. 1914. no one believed that
the story told by November, 1913, was
possible in human history. Today
time and Nature have effaced the
scars. The fields of France smile
again. Ruined villages have been re-
built; the forest, shattered to splin-
ters by rain of shells, now rustles
anew, green-leafed in the Spring
rains. Only the Official cemeteries,
which must be sought out, serve to re-
mind the motorist that he is passing
through valley of death, and that
for four years the skill, courage and
tenacity of men the earth over were
devoted to struggle that involved
25,000,000 soldiers and destroyed H.
600, 900 of them in the flower of youth.
1t Is a terrible thing to say that
they all died in vain, that every in
scription on every war memorial is a
lie-yet that is what it means If, on
this day, 20 years after, we have not
learned our lesson: If we are not ca
pable of crowning good will above
force. Is the whole history of man.
kind TO be cruel and senseless story?
That is the question we must solemly
ask on this anniversary.
If the human mind cannot sklve
this question, then the loveliest and
quietest backwater may be the scene
of the opening Of a drama in which
our civilization will be destroyed. We
are paying now. 20 years later, in
economic suffering and political up
heaval, for the abnormal strain we
endured from 1914 to 1918. This time
we have only barely saved civilization
from complete collapse. Even at this
hour the ship of state everywhere is
beset by perilous shoals. We are lust
drawing out. 1t cannot be thought
that another such four years of car
mage, increased in terror and aug
IN rt4fNa AxT
science, would leave US with any
means of resuscitation.
In q Pleasant Town.
Recently I was in a small town in
Europe whose name would never have
been heard of hundred miles from
its site, but for small incident at one
of its three bridges. It is a pleasant
town. with minarets to proclaim its
ancient Turkish occupants. There is
a memorial to wretched youth, an
assassin, which records alike the in
fanny of his deed and of those who
have placed it there. 1t records the
pistol shot, on the afternoon of June
%, 1914, which killed a blameless
archduke and his gallant wife, and
Scb IIlc NOIlQ III <fAdHeS. hat same
shot stopped tK hearts of $4,000, 900
innocent men,
1t may be there is some other
pleasant small town, in all the leafiness
Of Summer, with a bridge and a mur-
muring stream. And, unless we re-
member well, and act in determination,
that small town may leap into our
consciousness with all the terrible
presage that was doomed to be given
to the insignificant, unknown name
Of Serajevo.
Twenty years after we know now
what Serajevo implied. Those 20
years have meant for Us 4 of ter
rible bloodshed, 16 of inconclusive
efforts toward peace. 1t is solemn
thought. We stand in solemn hour.
We must not forget. We must vividly
remember, and tax our ingenuity TO
keep reason throned above the chaos
that menaces us.