IV: WAR AND WOMEN
As a sailor, Charles Bich, though middle-aged, liked nothing better than to talk about women. He was sentimental about them, but at the same time sensually appreciative of their beauty. To such an extent did he inflame the young man’s imagination that Siebenhaar had to protest.
“It is a shame,” he cried, “that the son of such a father should be polluted with the obsessions of civilised men.”
With the air of leaving no more to be said, Ultimus remarked:
“I like them.”
“So do all unintelligent men,” replied Siebenhaar, “and they are driven mad by them and hope against hope for the day when all restraint will be removed. This is another potent factor in the production of war. Women are not to the same degree subject to these terrible obsessions, but they do regret their limited opportunities in the organised society of peace. Further, in times of war they like to think that men are fighting for them, and they love to be regaled with stories of violence and outrage, especially those who have been entirely chaste, and have no hope of anything else.”
The Rear-Admiral blushed.
“When we fight,” he said, “we fight for our country, our King, our Empire, for the all-red map of the world.”
“These,” replied Siebenhaar, “are words. Country, King, Empire, are protective ideas. What you love and what you defend is your mode of living, which you have adopted partly because you have a prejudice in favour of it, partly because you like it better than any other you can conceive. Your living consists in eating, drinking, consorting with women, and rearing any family you may produce. Everything else is introduced merely to disguise any unpleasantness there may be in the exercise of those functions. For the most part they are lies, illusions, hallucinations, obsessions, which you find convenient to cloak your unimportance. As a naval officer you justify the absurd occupation by which you procure your livelihood. My young friend here is under no such painful necessity and I wish him to be spared all mental confusion.”
“Personally,” interrupted Ultimus, “I do not wish to be influenced by either of you. You, sir,” addressing Siebenhaar, “have given me all the knowledge and wisdom you have stored up in your adventurous life, and you, sir, have out of your life of duty, given me a new interest in the two things, war and women, which have hitherto been denied me. I am much obliged to you, and, if you don’t mind we will continue the erection of the wireless installation we began yesterday, because I am anxious to establish communication with the world as soon as possible.”
Ultimus and Bich retired to the top of the mountain leaving Siebenhaar sadly tracing on the sands a rough caricature of a woman. So horrible was it to him that he could not finish it and obliterated it with his foot.