bring to an end so tremendous a conflict. Yet I realize that there were men and women accompanying the expedition far better versed in European affairs than I-men and women who have talked, since the war began, with the foreign and prime ministers of every belligerent country, who believe that this unofficial neutral conference can accomplish a great work. They believe that after nineteen months of fighting the belligerent governments are coming to realize that neither side can win a sweeping military victory. They believe that every nation is tired of fighting and would welcome peace, if peace could be thought of without implying defeat and impossible treaty terms. It is the hope of the conference that when the way is pointed to peace without dishonor or disaster it will prove acceptable. So much for the work of the Ford expedition as a peace expedition. I would like to relate a few details of our trip through Germany, for since I have returned to the campus no phase of the expedition has appeared to excite so much interest as our brief trip through Germany. I believe that the American newspapers reported that we made the trip behind barred windows and locked doors, but such was not the case. It is true that we made the trip at night, but wherever it was light enough to see, as at the stations, we had a view as unimpeded as from an American train. Some of the most interesting incidents of that trip occurred in the dining car, for there we saw some suggestive circumstances in connection with the German food situation. The first thing which I noticed as I entered the diner was the extreme youth of the waiters. None were more than seventeen, and most seemed two or even three years younger. Apparently, Germany has more important work for her able-bodied adult males than to serve food to wandering pacificists. The next thing which caught my attention was a large sign, printed in two colors and posted in a conspicuous position. I learned afterwards that this sign appears not only in all dining cars, but in all other public dining-places as well. It bears Germany's "Ten Commandments" on the use of food. I can't remember all of them, but two which I remember seem typical. One read( I give the English approximation) "Don't peel your potatoes before boiling them: boiling with the skins on saves the nourishment." Another read, "Save old crusts of bread and make soup of them." Germany, you see, is neglecting no opportunity to prevent a food-famine. The meal seemed typical of the German food situation. It was Friday, one of the two days in the week when no flesh can be sold, and so we had no meat. Butter tickets are required in Germany now, and as we had made no application for tickets, we had no butter. Germany is short of wheat flour, and so we had no wheat bread, but instead three slices of potato bread were doled out to us- -slices as thick as a wafer and as large as a gentleman's calling card. Potatoes were not only much in evidence in the bread, but in the rest of the meal as well. The first course was potato soup; the second, potato salad; the third, potatoes and fish; and the fourth, potatoes and omelette. Perhaps since that evening some German scientist has discovered a desert made of potatoes, and they may serve desert in German dining cars now. But at any rate a desert was unknown then, and we passed it by for that meal. About a week after this, I was talking to a British marine at Dover, and he told me with what valor the Irish soldiers had fought for King and Empire. I thought as he spoke, "The Irish soldiers will be brave indeed, if they help England as much as Irish potatoes are helping Germany." That one meal confirmed all reports which I had heard from Scandinavian travelers with regard to the German food situation. Germany is very short of certain particular foods, such as meat, fats, and wheat, so that some deprivation occurs. But Germany has an abundance of other foodstuffs, such as potatoes and fish, so that no actual suffering is present. Nothing short of an unprecedented crop failure can starve Germany. Dinner was scarcely over when our train rolled into the great railroad station at Hamburg, the second city in the empire. A suburban train entered and discharged its passengers. Although it was late in the evening, at a time when one would naturally expect to see far many more men than women traveling, at least eighty per cent of the crowd, I should judge, were women. The German government, while it does not actually forbid mourning, discourages its use as tending towards unnecessary depression. Not a single woman wore the traditional mourning dress, yet there was scarcely one but was dressed in sombre attire in honor of husband, or father, or son. In all that crowd of women there was not a single gay gown or bright ribbon. On a siding near us was a bare, unfurnished military train, ready to depart for the front. The windows were thronged with silver-helmeted soldiers, many of them off for the front for the first time. They were laughing and talking among themselves, apparently in high spirits at the thought of the excitement they would soon see. There came a rumble of a train passing us on the other side. Turning, we saw a Red-Cross special, straight from the trenches, bearing the wounded to shelter and attention. Through the open windows we caught a fleeting glimpse of white-robed nurses bending over their suffering patients. The war seemed very near and very, very real. The laughter of the soldiers in the troop train was stilled. It seemed to us that the whole story of war lay about us On one side, the soldiers went forth into battle, laughing and unafraid; on the other side, they returned from the trenches maimed and defeated. On one hand was all the loyalty and the heroism and the patriotism which war engenders; on the other, was all the waste and despair and agony which war entails. After the Red-Cross special sped away in the night, the stillness lingered in the station. We thought of the words which the German lieutenant in charge of our expedition had spoken only a few minutes before. We had asked him if the German soldiers had heard of the Ford expedition, and what they thought of it. He had paused for a moment, and then had spoken slowly, weighing each word, "There is not a soldier in the trenches but is thinking of your expedition as it passes through Germany. There is not a soldier but is hoping that somehow, something good may come from it." As we sat thoughtfully in the stillness as the Red-Cross train departed-as we thought of the tense faces of the men in the troop train and the agonized faces of the men in the hospital train, the most dissentious and cynical critics of the expedition repeated in their hearts the prayer of the German soldiers, that somehow, something good might come from the expedition. SHAKESPEARE LEONARD BACON From you the noblest of the sons of light To the quest of whatsoever hardest goal, We give our tittle of imperfect praise |