WAR—CARNAGE AND HORROR.

Auckland Star, Volume XLIV, Issue 181, 31 July 1913, Page 8

WAR —CARNAGE AND HORROR.

THE MODERN BATTLEFIELD. War, biood-red. the 'real thing." Torture, madness: Der.t'.i, swooping down in the most ghastly shapes, aided and abetted by modern engines of destruction —these are the outstanding features of a little book published recently. It is called "The Human Slaughter-house.'' It is translated from the German of Wiihelm Lam-vziis. a schoolmaster. This English version is by Oakley Williams, and he bai done ais work wcil, and his foreword is worthy of the hundred pa.g*-s which follow. He says that 100,000 copies have been sold in Germany within three months. He says. too. thai, the author has been .?\"crv.ed. reviled, blessed, and I thanked. On one side lip is stigmatised as "a peril to the public safety.'' and on the other i; has been written of the book: "May ihe Messing of its work ba great ." It is really J3 impressionist sketch ot whit .'iii happen on the field in the war " that i? sure to come. ' The author himself has no;, seen war. yet the scenes he depicts ,tre so realistic, like the "real thine." that the renter is carried ot. and on. jasping with excitement and terror. Ilerr and there he stops with a shudder, give; a gulp of horror, and 1 turns the page over unfinished. The realism, in placer, ;s too much for mc. MODERN" BUTCHERY. 1 'ne author i- opposed to the modern ■weapons of war. This revolt of Ills runs through the story l.ke a thread through Government cordag . In elect he keeps on sayinzr. " Why should. I be taken from cy iiome. my wife, and kiddies, to be mangled out of shape or blown to shreds by a -heli full of explosive nei.-i. which h."s b«en fired from ? gun which 1 canno's' : -vbicli. indeed, racy be miles away? Wry should I fire at. and also be fire-i at by. men 1 have never seen, and whom 1 cannot, c-er. .■- I lire ?'* -Si.i yet. ■■■■:> ?- he r-'bois at w::at he i believes tine vj anachronism, that something in our nature which has often in our history set the world ablaze, rises within him. His affection lor Ml? Fathcrtand conquers every other emo tior. Listeu: — "We ;;:■' merccnar.e- no longer—thosthir»l'ngs for murder, who once sold their blood for money down to all and sundry. We are glad is tors no lorger—slaves who enact the drama of dying as an exciting spectacle for the entertainment of the rich, and for the lust of their eyes, it b lo our native land we took our oath. And if it must be. ire ire resolved to die as citizens, to die in the full consciousness and full responsibility for our ari-." HAVOC OF THE GUN. Within a few days he is with his regiment in the field. They are lying on their stomach-, facing a wood in wtucu there ere some, of the enemy witn a machine gun which is playing havoc with comrades on his right and left. They can see nothing, however, aud the grim mockery of it maddens his blood, and he red before his eye". In all this turmoil he sees knights in shining armour, with co.fhing lances, ride out of the ■wood and charge towards him. This is. ho.v war should be waged, and so he, a reckless horseman of bygone days leaps into his saddle. "Then, eyes are flashing into mine end hands are raised for th" meter- —and stroke for stroke, breast to breast, the pride of youthfui, virile strength. . . ."' But the vision goes as quickly as it came. They are not charging men: they are charging machines. "And the machine triumphs d°ep into our very iiesh. And the machine is draing the life-blood from our veins, and lapping it up in bucketfuls. Those who have been hit are already lying, mown down in swathes behind us. and are writhing on their wounds. And yet tier are racing up behind us. in their hundreds —young healthy human flesh— for the machines ;o butcher." >~ow comes a vivid description of how they took the wood, and at what terrible cost. We see. as if we were there, the capture of the machine guns, and v. c experience their rage against these unfeeling instruments of death: — " L"p with tbe trenchin_ tools! . - . with axes upraised they ru«h at the machines, and hail blows upon the barre!;. The retorts wherein Death has brewed his potion shriek as though wounded . . . the jackets burst . . . the -water flows out . . . and the carriage leaps splintered into the air . . . twisted metal, the spokes of wheeis and cartridge belts litter the ground all around, but we are battering ana smashing everything underfoot until our hot blood has coole-i its ra_e on the metal." BARED BREAST AGAINST PLATED STEEL. In the very n=xt paragraph the author gives way to a touch of cynical hysteria: " And now amid joyons cheers raise, the thunderous shout of Victory. L. l the pipes 3nd the bugles ring out. This is Death on the stricken field: This is a soldier's frenzy and the joy of battle: to charge with bared breast against plated stec'—to dash cheering with soft, uncasca br.-iin against a well of steel. In s'j.-h wholesale, callous purposeful fashion vermin only are esterminrted. We conn: for nothing more than vermin in this war." It will be noticed that the author his already blown hot and cold. In one place his hero expresses his pride in, and ris willingness to die. if need be. for the Fatherland. In the second place he regards himself and his comrades as vermin in the war. That ie not fair to the F.itheriand. No one who is sane desires to see a single human life sacrificed in war. but war is as inexorable as is n.-tTur": and every man who goes to the war is—or should he -a valuable fuTlitin-* unit, a unit which c-.n ill be spared, much less he treated a.s "vermin." The nimblest Driv:ue ha-, comparatively, as hi; j stake in the tight as his the colc-n"!. And the old ada_r- still holds good. AM is I_.it —in war. It i- ail very well to gird against death-dealing machinery, but war does rot lend it.-cif to sr-nci-mentalrsm. Nations, like men. engaged in i quarrel, always believe themselves to be in ;he right. Each i = determined to wreak vengeance and obtain satisfaction. There is no time nor disposition, then, to argue abon: the of coming out on top. and it would be as futile to demand that the manufacture oi modern engines of war should cease, as it would be to order that night should come no more. We must go on. We must keep abreast of the times if we as an Empire wish to exist as such. That is the lesso;. I re-ii from this cook. We cannot afford to stand still. If we do we eve dcjnnel. an 1 tnose who read this book must agree that unless apathetic Britain takes a different view of war from that which it does to-day, there will not only ie the horrifying destruction of its aalftrained sons on the field of battle, but eameQung even, -worse may befall those •&o issYf. tha- inisfortirrie to «nrvr?e, gate. ' EOTCES^aSWj