LONDON TOPICS

Lake Wakatip Mail, Issue 4372, 5 July 1938, Page 7

LONDON TOPICS

PREMIER IMPRESSES TRADES i COUNCIL NOT A FASCIST CABINET GERMAN BRAINS BEHIND CHINESE STRATEGY Mr Neville Chamberlain’s quiet talk at No. 10 with the T.U.C. leaders appears to have impressed the latter favourably. For one thing, the Prime Minister was able completely to disabuse their minds of the suspicion, so industriously fostered in certain political quarters, that he or any of his Cabinet colleagues are either Fascists or even pro-Fascists. He was up against rather fierce trade union prejudices regarding the Spanish trouble and our Italian policy, but Mr Chamberlain’s frank exposition of the bigger issue—another European war, which would drag our western civilisation into bloodshot anarchy and collapse of all ameliorating social services—obviously wave his attentive hearers furiously to think. The T.U.C. spokesmen did not mince their words or their views, but the Prime Minister’s patient handling of the situation, and the ponderable , undisclosed facts he was able to reveal, established more sympathetic relations, j It was a successful essay in heart-to- . heart as opposed to purely partisan ■ discussion. i Hitler’s recall of the German null- | tary mission to China is the sequel to strong Tokio protests. _ In face of the j anti-Communist pact with Berlin, Japan • regarded it as invidious that, in addi- j tion to quantities of German arms, j China should have the assistance of a ; highly competent German staff. The | latter, which has been operating amic- i ably with the personnel of Russian tanks and aeroplanes, consists of a i number of experienced German army i officers under General _ von Falkenhausen, who went to China to organise and train her army, but when the official war wdth Japan .began, remained to constitute themselves the Chinese Generalissimo’s strategic advisers. To their aid Tokio attributes the fact that so far the Japanese forces in China have failed to secure a decisive victory, and that the Chinese troops continue by astute tactics to embarrass their operations. The loss of his German staff would be a heavy blow to the Chinese Generalissimo, but it is highly improbable that all will obey the recall order. General von Falkenhausen, whose brother was a victim of Nazi ruthlessness, is unlikely to return to Germany. And he is the real brains behind China’s fighting forces. REASON WHY. Lunching recently with some FaxEast experts, men who have spent most of their lives “ somewhere east of Suez.” talk turned on the sharp contrast between the Japanese army and navy. They agreed that the navy men were far more reasonable in their attitude than the army. There is no love lost between the two services, but whereas the navy invariably honours an army order, the Japanese army frequently flouts a naval order. As might be expected, of course, the Japanese naval officer is much more cosmopolitan than his army vis-a-vis, both in manner and outlook. Many of them, too, are linguists, an accomplishment exceedingly rare among high army commanders in Japan. What most interested me, however, was the explanation, on which all these Far East experts agreed, as to the existence of this curious psychological difference. They attributed it to the fact that the Japanese navy imbibed its traditions from the British Navy, whereas the Japanese army was tutored in the Prussian army traditions. Somehow that rings true. HOLDING THE FORT. The man who is shouldering the brunt of the Czech crisis, so far as we are concerned, is our Ambassador in Berlin, Sir Nevile Henderson. During the past weeks Sir Nevile, who is the son of a Horsham squire, and an old Etonian, must have faced the worst ordeal of an exceptionally varied diplomatic career. He was at Buenos Aires as our Argentine Minister before a discerning Foreign Office chief transferred him to Berlin, but he has had diplomatic experience of one sort or another in Rome. Moscow, Nish, Tokio, Paris, Constantinople, Cairo, and Belgrade. There are few countries or famous capitals about which Sir Nevile cannot talk intimately with first-hand knowledge, and, like Tennyson’s Ulysses, he is “ a part of all that he has met.” His long suit is the pleasant tactful patience which camouflages an inflexible and shrewd determination. Shooting, fishing, and golf are his sporting hobbies, and he belongs to the St. James’s Club, where he is i-egarded, on the strength of rare occasional visits, as a first-rate bridge partner. As diplomat he is, by instinct and experience, armed cap-a-pie, and in his present job he needs to be. AT LOGGERHEADS. The Spanish trouble is putting eminent English ecclesiasts at loggerheads. In particular is Dr Wilson, Bishop of Chelmsford, a Cambridge graduate who was once a Hampstead curate, being roughly handled. Dean Inge, a formidable controvex-sialist to challenge, denies the bishop’s assex-tion that he, the dean, ever stated that a quarter of the nuns in Spain have been murdered by the Reds. “ Many have been killed,” comments the dean with acid brevity, “ but the bishop’s proteges were more often content to strip them naked and violate them!” The dean finds it “ rather horrible ” that a bishop should champion men who, acting on instructions from Moscow, have at a low estimate slaughtered 200.000 helpless and harmless middle-class Spaniax-ds. He claims that these facts are well-docu-mented for those—a minority he fears—who wish to know the truth. A Spanish martyrology, now being prepared by the’Vatican authorities, gives a list of the estimated dead of 28 religious orders. The list is incomplete, but already totals over 1,200 priests and mis-sionei-s. AUSTRALIANS STILL WAITING. The Australian trade delegation, which has been in London many weeks, is still having an unexpected holiday, waiting for the conclusion of negotiations between Britain and the United States. It was thought that agreement

would have been reached two months ago, but the discussions have revealed the usual desire of nations whose exports to us are so much higher than their imports from Britain that they want to retain the advantage, and even increase their sales. The discussions have been protracted because the Americans are looking for an expansion of trade, and Britain is their best market. The land of gigantic production must have more customers if its industrial position is to be maintained. The British proposals, however, have had a chastening effect on the American manufacturers, who have begun to realise that they must nurse no extravagant hopes. In international trade the principle of something for nothing is no longer possible, and Britain wants a better deal than is represented by the heavy trade balance in America’s favour. The Australians are restive, but they may have to wait for another few 7 weeks. A.R.P. DEMONSTRATION.

While admitting that Sir Samuel Hoare’s broadcast on air raid precautions was eminently sensible and to the point, many London wardens are almost persuaded that compulsory powers may be necessary if we are to achieve efficiency. They encounter, in all grades of suburbs, an amazing degree of popular indifference. People either refuse to take raid risks seriously, or, if they do, are often fatalistic about them. Householders with neat suburban gardens are seldom disposed to contemplate digging up flower beds to make a funk-hole. Proletarian families, with no gardens, are little minded to agree to vacate their homes, for some unknown destination, on a general evacuation signal. Many people even resent the intrusion of “ strangers,” who want to show them how to put on a gas mask. One quite intelligent warden assures me that, if trouble actually comes and adequate arrangements exist for transporting Loudon’s seven or eight million inhabitants, half the folks will refuse to budge. They will prefer to take their chance —and not miss the fun I If, as is suggested, M.P.s are asked to attend lessons in air raid protection, n will be with an idea of passing on expert advice to their constituents rather than ensuring their own safety at Westminster. As a matter of fact, the Houses of Parliament are exceptionally well endowed with cellars and underground chambers. There are literally miles of corridors, and it is said the chief engineer himself does not know them all. During the Great War M.P.s frequently had occasion to “ take cover ” down below. Motley gatherings they were in the main, including a sprinkling of peers, Cabinet Ministers, officials of the House, typists, cooks, waitresses, charwomen—workers, in fact, from all ovex the vast building. The German bombers were particularly ambitious to register a “ hit ” against St. Stephen’s. For this reason Westminster Bridge was kept in complete darkness, while the adjoining Blackfriars Bridge was illuminated as usual. Neverthelta#, there were some close shaves, one bomb falling plumb in the street midway between Westminster Hall and Westminster Abbey. WITH A RUSHING SOUND.

Whether last week’s spectacular R.A.F. demonstration above London’s quaking roofs has done much to reassure nervous citizens may be doubted. Squadron on squadron has zoomed across in precise arrow-head formation, and the intimidating roar of their passing has made houses rattle. But to the layman the destructive potentialities of the aeroplane must always loom more realistically than its defensive possibilities. Londoners who have not seen so many planes above their heads since that memorable daylight raid by German bombers during the war gazed at the swiftly-moving warbats, and quite commonly ejaculated: “ Suppose they were enemy raiders?” The most dramatic thing about the military plane, especially the latest fast ones, is its vibrating uproar. London’s roofs literally shook whilst these sinister engines swept formidably across the skyline only about 2,500 ft up. The “ long-drawn thunder ” of Kipling’s three-decker was nothing to the earthquaking roar of these visitants. Imagination boggles at realising what _ a main air action above a modern city will be like. Its sound will suggest the Day of Judgment. WHAT—NO RIFLES? _No doubt the Agincourt brass hats raged furiously when revolutionary iconoclasts suggested that bows and arrows would soon be obsolete. Our cavalry romancists, still clinging to Tennysonian Light Brigade ideas, are desperately holding the last military ditch against the monstrous regiments of tanks. But now comes the supremo affront to Aldershot’s Old Guard. Some innovators are actually asserting that the rifle is an out-of-date weapon. A heresy like this, striking at the very foundations of our musketry course with its beloved “ mad minute,” is enough to make Bisley experts shed tears of blood, and rend the veil of the inner temple of the Army and Navy Club. But the advent of the Bren automatic rifle, six pounds lighter than the Lewis and many rounds quicker, gives solid support to the rifle’s critics. The Bren is essentially a one-man weapon, and no matter how expert their musketry practice a battalian armed with rifles would not command anything like the fire zone of a company of Bren gunners. All the same, it is difficult to see yet how infantry can entirely dispense with the rifle. Sniping is a vital practice in war and cannot be done efficiently with an automatic. PAST AND PRESENT. The Royal military tournament at Olympia is, in theatrical parlance, playing to capacity both afternoons and evenings. It is a marvellously exhilarating show, admirably varied in character, and it is hard to say which is the piece de resistance—the fascinating physical drill display by the R.A.F., in the course of which the darkened arena is turned into a maelstrom of whirling electric stars, or the clever midget ponies of the _ Inniskilling Dragoon Guards, who obviously enjoy every moment of their “ turn ” and roll over ecstatically on the tan when the crowd applauds them. But what impressed me on a recent second visit was the contrast between two items. We have the Scots Greys, one of the only two cavalry regiments left to the British Army outside the Household Brigade, doing their spectacular ride. Their chargers, their gay lances and clattering equipment, and their fine mounted band, with dark bearskin helmets surmounted by scarlet feathers, speak of a vanished epoch. The Royal Corps of Signals, performing incredible

f circus tricks at full speed on their motor bikes, are the crash-helmeted heralds of the new era. Grey ghosts , of the past cheek by jowl with the I roaring phantoms of the future. I CAUSE AND EFFECT. I met a British n.c.o. once on the western front who solemn 13' assured me that how and why he got mixed up in the Great War was because he simply could not stand the way the Germans handled their past participles. He was a university man and a fine soldier, i He may also have been a bit of a Muni chausen. Hardly more bizarre is the I explanation given by Mr R. D. Q. Hen- | riques, in his readable book, ‘ Death j By Moonlight,’ of the way he came to Ibe big-game shooting in Africa. It all ’ started with a leak in his Cotswold cottage roof. This necessitated some months’ absence during repairs, and as he developed a cold from the leak which later set up a nasty cough Harley Street recommended a hot, dry country. Yet this Cotswold cottager, with another complete novice, bagged 14 lions and 19 leopards in one month. The author's description of wild life in the big open spaces at night is quite thrilling. He pays a handsome tribute to the sporting majesty of the lion and his John Bull ways, but, as in the case of Mistress Quickly and swaggerers, simply “ cannot abide ” leopards. ALL-ROUNDER. Mr Leslie Burgiu, who as Transport Minister has been spending an uncomfortable night coasting on a lorry, and found the only bad drivers to be private ones, is a first-class 'all-round athlete for a politician of 51. A solicitor’s son, and educated in London, Lausanne, and Paris, he was an intelligence officer in the war, and received the Italian Croce di Guerra. The year before the war he was Scott Law Scholar, and he has taken his LL.D. at Loudon. No doubt he acquired his habit of lorry-riding in his army, days, when most of us were glad to jump on the back of any friendly G.S. wagon. Mr Burgin gives as his recreations — foreign languages, mountaineering, and tennis. This modestly omits mention of his redoubtable prowess as a cricketer, who on his last appearance in a House of Commons XI., took six hostile wickets for his side. He is in fact the star turn in the present M.P. cricket team, despite the presence of a former county skipper. As an after-dinner speaker Mr Burgin is quite the brightest at Westminster. And he has the priceless gift of knowing just when to sit down. DIVORCE ABSURDITY. Mr A. P. Herbert’s divorce reforms have not touched one grave scandal. A recent case in the courts has forced it on public attention. A divorced husband who was ordered to pay his former wife £SOO a year alimony, petitioned to have that sum reduced, as the lad} 7 had remarried. The court of first instance rejected the plea, but Mr Justice Bucknill, on appeal, cut the £SOO down to £350, on the ground that the lady no longer had to maintain a separate establishment. There is strong feeling even among lawyers, fully shared by lay sentiment, that where a former wife remarries no alimony at all should be paid, unless there are exceptional circumstances concerned with small children. The existing divorce law, which awards one-third of the divorced husband’s income as alimony, encourages the gravest abuses. There have been instances where a woman, anxious to marry an old flame, encouraged infidelity on her husband’s part merely in order to secure substantial alimony, and then remarry on the proceeds. Sex equality, so far as our divorce law is concerned, is a lop-sided affair, heavily loaded against the husband. “ ANCIENT TIMES.” | For the first time for six centuries the Worshipful Company of Goldsmiths are to organise a large-scale exhibition at the famous Goldsmiths’ Hall, in the City of London. But the exhibition will deal with silver. In the immense salons of the hall, hundreds of thousands of pounds’ worth of silverwork, glistening beneath hundreds of candles in the massive chandeliers, and illuminated from the walls by concealed lighting, will be on view. Among the exhibits will be the Calix Majestatis, or Cup of Majesty, which was designed to commemorate the Coronation, and is kept at Holyrood, now being seen in England for the first time. On the goldsmiths’ premises, though not open to the public, is the Assay Office, where to this day the company still set their hallmark on London’s output of gold and silver wares after they have passed their test for fineness. This process, now carried out under statutory authority, was termed “ ancient ” 600 years ago. In addition to marks, denoting the standard, date, and makers, all plate marked at the hall bears the imprint of the Leopard’s Head, the oldest hallmark in origin, described in the goldsmiths’ first royal charter of 1327 as “ a stamp of a puncion with a leopard’s head as of ancient times it was ordained.” SEX IN THE CITY. Since the war in most London offices an office girl has completely ousted the former office boy. In place of the latter worthy, with his ink-smeared face, staccato whistle, habit of cascading downstairs, and deceptive look of cherubic, injured innocence, we have a chic young damsel, demure yet lipsticked, who divides her leisure between manicuring her hands and repairing ladders in her stockings. Nor is this the only sign of post-war Adam’s total eclipse. Most big shops and offices now employ a lift-girl instead of the former lift-boy. Here the change is perhaps less pleasing. There was "a cheerful camaraderie about liftboys. They took a personal interest in" their clients, were miraculously prompt with the latest news from the racecourse or the cricket field, and had “ the boss’s ” movements taped to a whisper. The lift-girl is all too frequently, as the French put it, very conscious of her beauty. She emphasises her frigid, impersonal contempt for people who ring for lifts, and treats their ignorance of the right floor as I symptoms of a disordered mind. A learned Freudian assures me this is merely proof of an inferiority complex in the female of the lift-attendant species. He may be right. Before putting on hat, the chic dresser will make sure it is her hat. If it has money in it, it’s her purse.

Improvements in modern house construction tire being sought. What about taking away that extra step we always forget about in the dark?