HIGH HOPES ALONG THE RHINE

Evening Star, Issue 20256, 17 August 1929, Page 10

HIGH HOPES ALONG THE RHINE

WAITING FOR EVACUATION [By T. R. Ybabra, in the New York ‘ Outlook.’] Smiles light up the faces of the Rhinelanders nowadays. They smile ns they go about their affairs in every city, town, and village on their famous, river; they,smile as they navigate the big steamboats conveying foreign tourists over the waters of the loveliest of European streams, 'For the word has gone forth that the evacuation of the Rhineland by French, British, and Belgian troops is to come very soon—in a few weeks, maybe. The conviction has arisen in the minds of thousands of Rhinelanders that, long before the year 1935. the time limit set in the Versailles' Treaty for the stay of the foreign soldiers, the last soldiers of them will have marched away from the Rhine towns which they have been garrisoning for t.en years, and that no flag but. that of Germany will fly henceforth on the banks of the great river. Ask a Rhinelander when the foreigners are going away and he will doubtless reply, “Soon —very soon.” Press him for something more definite and he may tell you, “Next September ” —or (if successive postponements of the evacuation have taught him caution) he may prefer to say, “Before the end of the vear.” But, if yon object, “May not tliey stay, after all, until 1935?” he will shake his head with the greatest vigour, wave his arms in excited gesticulation, insist most emphatically that, Versailles or no Versailles, the idea of a Rhineland in 1935 still garrisoned by “ poilus ” and “ Tommies ” is beyond all imagining.

“Until next autumn, perhaps—until Christmas, who knows?—but until 1935?— ‘ nein, nein, nein!’ ” Tn the meantime, while the Rhinelanders smile their satisfied smiles and dream of a Rhineland bereft of foreign soldiery, the Rhineland remains very much under foreign occupation. To be sure, the outward signs of this occupation are not at all what they were in the first post-war j'ears. Then you could not be on the Rhine an hour without realising that it was under the rule not of Germany, but of the victors in the Great War. Tn Cologrm British, sentries—sometimes Scotsmen in their kilts—paced up and down before the leading hotel of the city, turned into British headquarters. Signs in English were everywhere—one, especially conspicuous, told Tommy Atkins exactly what to do in case trouble broke out. At Coblenz hundreds of American soldiers strolled about tho streets, and the Stars and Stripes flew proudly over the frowning fortress of Ehrenbreitstein, dominating the turbid waters of tho great stream as they swept under the bridges of the town far below. That American army officers and -not a German burgomaster were in charge at Coblenz became apparent in those days within five minutes of a visitor’s arrival. I remember particularly a sign on the wall of a Coblenz barber shop: “ By order of the General Commanding the American Troops of Occupation, the prices in this shop are as follows: — whereupon one read the number of pfennigs which that august'personage from overseas deemed the right price for a shave, hair cut, shampoo, etc. And, on a road outside Coblenz, embowered in typically German forest scenery, fringed by dwellings most Teutonic in appearance, one read on a most aggressive-looking signboard: By Order of the General American . Troops of Occupation—Keep to the right!’’ ■ Well. English and Scots have vanished from' Cologne. Americans long awo turned their backs on Ehrenbreitstein and Coblenz, but French and Belcnans and a few Britons still keep some of the outward signs of occupation before the eves of the Rhinelanders. Around ‘ Aix-la-Chapelle the tasseled caps of Belgium’s soldiers are much in evidence; around Bingen a lone “Tommy” may still he seen, wandering alone: the banks of the "Rbine with an’ apologetic sort of air, as if he didn’t know why he was there and wished you would tell him. Instead or Americans, Frenchmen in horizon bine crarb idle' along the riverfront at Coblenz, cigarettes drooping, m the true French manner, from the corners of their mouths. . . „ . Mainz (or Mavence, as it is called in French) is the place where the foreign occupation of the Rhineland most strikes the eye. There the French keep quite a big garrison, so big that horizon blue is quite a commonplace in the landscape. From the earliest days of the occupation, in November, iJlo, Mayence has been the main headquarters of France’s forces on the Rhine. Ever since the first “ poiln marched into tbe city immediately after the collapse of Imperial Germany’s armies, Mayence has resounded to the thud of French military boots and the clear notes of French clarions. French flags are everywhere. French supply-wauons go lumbering along the streets, driven by French soldiers. French officers, nattily uniformed, walk briskly to and from their barracks, or swing along the platforms of the railway statiefh, having just alighted trom the Paris train, with orderlies in horizon bine respectfully carrying their luggage. Yes, Mayence is very mnen an occupied «city. German policemen, with moustachios upturned a la Wilhelm Hohepzollern, despotically stop and start the city’s traffic, but, for all their fierceness, one help realising that the raising of one French finger would make those policemen wilt into humility—nay, maybe even cause those splendid moustachios to droop downward!

However, it is only at Mayence and Coblenz that the signs of foreign occupation really recall those first postwar years, when foreign soldiers seemed almost to outnumber native civilians, when bloody fights were fought between Separatists, who wished to break away from Germany, and Rhinelanders who had no use for secession. Elsewhere, along the Rhine, all looks so peaceful and Teutonic that it is difficult to remember that the hanks are still under French or Belgian or British control. For instance, there used to he signs on the Rhine steamboats cautioning passengers not to sin£ German patriotic songs. Yesterday I searched high and low on the boat conveying, me. for any such warning. In vain. It had been taken down. ’“The Rhinelanders don’t get excited any more in public at the thought ol the foreign occupation “After all,” say the Rhinelanders, with a shrug of tneir shoulders, “ we lost the wan; didn’t we? ” And they go about their business quietly and resignedly and philosophically—that is. until you hint that the “ poilus ” and “ Tommie.-, ’hand Belgians may stay on the Rhine muii 1935. Then . > . well, strong language in Germany can be very' strong indeed!