After again emphatically denouncing “Rick” for his “inhuman tactics” he changed the conversation and asked me how many Americans we had in France.
“That is a matter we do not care to discuss,” I said in a manner indicating that while we knew positively the exact number we wished to sidetrack the issue.
He momentarily permitted it.
“Your losses by our submarines must have been appalling,” he said, not forcing the subject.
I told him that our losses by their submarines had not been nearly so great as their losses by their own submarines. This was Greek to him, so he asked me what I meant, and I explained to him that while their submarines were causing us some damage all right, and a lot of worry, yet they were also responsible for our being in France and that if the American Army had not already caused them all the losses and all the worry they could possibly withstand that it soon would. He was very anxious to impress upon us that he believed that the policy of Von Tirpitz was all wrong and he admitted that Germany realized that she could not win with America in the war. “To Germany,” he said, “it is now a proposition of defense.”
Then Davis calmly proceeded to tell him that if Germany ever wanted to save herself she had better throw up her hands quick, because in 1920 the Allies were certainly going to give her a walloping blow from Switzerland to the sea.
“Ah,” he said, “1920 is a long way off. How many Americans will you have here in 1920?”
I looked at Davis, hesitated a second as if calculating, then said, “Let’s see—we have three million five hundred thousand here now; we ought to have seven million by that time.” Then I assumed a sheepish-looking attitude, as if I had said something which should have been kept secret. He looked at me a moment in amazement, then laughingly said:
“You are joking. You have not three million five hundred thousand here now.”
I nodded my head affirmatively, while Davis chirped up, “That’s right.”