A WAR MEDLEY

Hawera Star, Volume XLIX, 31 August 1929, Page 11

A WAR MEDLEY

setting was the British Consulate

in a large German icity, and the time TO o’clock in the morning of August 4, 1914 (says M. E. J. Cocks in the ‘ ‘ Sydney Morning Herald ”). Outside an excited German crowd went marching, running, shouting by, whilst inside Indians, Africans, .’Canadians, Australians, and folk from the British Isles were massed together irrespective of age or class or colour. On the stairway some lively Canadian tourists wore talking animatedly, and in the large room opposito several Indian University students were trying to explain the situation, as they knew it, to a Eronch-Canadian with a limitknowledge of English. In one corner a young West of England another was hushing her (baby with a Devon lullaby, and in another a frail old Scottish couple were wistfully watching, and probably envying, some youthful Australians, whilst an Irish comedian was gallantly struggling to make the time pass time more pleasantly with witticisms to which no one paid the least •attention. A varied croiwd, indeed, wherein East and West 'stood linked by the common bond of British citizenship in the face of a common danger. One and all waited for the British Consul. “When will he come?’ r That was the question on every tongue. A,t each fresh footfall heads were turned expectantly, only to meet with disappointment. Croon dawn these Briton® had been, gathering and tensely waiting for the .Consul and their marching orders. His arrival was tho event of paramount importance to one and all. How would they travel? In cattle trucks? In vans? No one cared/so long as the way to England lay open, ■what the means of transit or wha't the discomfort of the route. “When we get home.” That was the burden of their talk. Yet to most of them England was but a name. A week before and they had been Indians, Australians, Canadians, but when war came they were “just British;” London, the centre of the 'Empire, their Empire, and England “Home.” 'Rumours flew. Hope, fear, the whole gamut of emotion, had been traversed in the first hour and re-enacted in each succeeding hour so that long before mid-day nerves were frayed, indeed. Steadily the heat grew more oppressive as steadily the .crowd increased. 'Suddenly a voice boomed out from the doorway: “Subjects of his Britannic Majesty, your Consul left for England several hours ago; but at the request of his Britannic Majesty’s

AFTER FIFTEEN YEARS

Government the United 'States Consul will look after your interests. Please proceed immediately to the American Consulate and you will be advised.” The Consul gone —impossible! Yet that had been the message. Were they then deserted, betrayed? 'Consternation reigned momentarily, Ibut Then that poise, typically British, reasserted itself.

Next came the exodus. A little crippled English woman seized her crutches, but at the same moment a big Red Indian showman, lately on tour with a circus, touched her shoulder, “Ma’am, please permit me to carry you; my arms aro very strong,” and "with the words he lifted hor like a child and joined the procession of black and white, brown and yellow, old and young, who. now walking, now running, traversed the distance between the two Consulates. A Newfoundland student carried a pink-cheeked (baby, and a most immaculate society lady led a grimy small girl by the hand. They were so unlike in aspect, the units in the procession, yet they were so unlike in aspect, the units in the procession. vet they were so amazingly friendly. Two qualities alone they seemed to have in common. They were all British, They were all quiet.

En masse they arrived at the American Consulate, where officials, although endeavouring to be kind, yet seemed twidcly separated in spite of a common language. They were neutrals. The British were combatants. The noise the Americans made in bewailing their losses of luggage was almost incredible. So many had been caught, whilst travelling, by the congestion attendant ppon mobilisation, that miles of luggage lined many railway termini, and for all those trunks and bags the shrillest-voiced females in the world were wildly 'clamouring to their 'Consul. Blocks away that clamour, so essentially un-English, could be heard. The British stood to lose so much more than mere clothes anid travelling gear, •but they were quite calm. In the iwceks following the declaration of war young British wives were often to Ibid, farewell to husband perforce left behind and mothers to song. Yet never was there any fuss, any hysteria; quietly the women bravely smiled their goodbyes. and quietly from all sides came the “cheerios” of the men.

To all those oddly-assorted people w-ho had gathered at the British Consulate, August 4 brings many memories, and one is always of the new meaning, born that day, of British citizenship under the British King.