The respect we so generously accorded our enemies in the beginning is replaced by a justifiable contempt for their barbarities. A certain allowance is made for soldiery fighting under the influence of ration drugs, but when we read, as we have to-day, of the death of three hundred Serbians, forced by Germans and Bulgarians to dig their own graves and then, having bound each other's eyes, await a horrible massacre, we are no longer justified in our tolerance.
We are up against a foe whose devilish unscrupulousness is only equalled by scientific cunning. And to combat his ingenuity, to rid the world of his demoralising degeneracy, every resource of the Empire must be brought into play.
Not merely individual but national sacrifice is needed. Conscription of labour and wealth and land, governors whose only inducement to govern is the joy of serving, a free Press and, above all, a sane and scientific education to fit our children to take the highest place among nations in the tremendous commercial war of the future.
Gone are the days of blind optimism and hope; gone the men who passed through and found a few hours' solace within these grey walls; gone the youth that made the impossible appear achievable. The very stones seemed listless, the dim daylight, filtering through high windows, weary.
An old Staff Colonel in front of me leant against the grey pillar and wept like a child. Was he mourning one of those who passed through earlier? Most of them have gone West by now.
In the interim of the swelling organ rose the cry of the wind in moans and sobs round the old stones whose founder had passed away this very morning.
Such was St. John's-on-the-Hill.
Mists lay all over the city and over the dashing sea as we wended our way for a last visit to the camps, where we lent a helping hand.
It is as wonderful as the never-extinguished vestal fire, this work that has no ending—these huts where no sooner is one batch of troops sent on than another arrives, with time only for occasional spasmodic cleanings.
A battalion of K.'s "contemptible little Army" had arrived during the night. If, after nineteen months' fighting, this is the specimen of manhood England can produce—well knit, in the prime of condition, the embodiment of health and strength—all one can say is: "Cave, Germania!"