LONDON REVISITED IN WAR TIME.

Otago Witness, Issue 3330, 9 January 1918, Page 46

LONDON REVISITED IN WAR TIME.

SOME IMPRESSIONS.

By an Old Londoner

Circumstances contrived it that, with tho exception of an odd day or two, I have never been in London since the outbreak of war. I have never slept a night in town until the last fortnight. My knowledge of London was through newspapers or books or visiting friends. I had no immediate touch with the great town. In these circumstances it may be interesting to put down the impressions of a visitor who is, nevertheless, an old familiar, of London revisited in time of war.

What one had read in the papers had, of course, kept one acquainted with things that wore "going on. There was talk of tho drying-up of civilian man-power, of the substitution of service by women, of darkened streets, of nocturnal accidents, of raids and bombed areas, of the disappearance of newspaper broadsheets, of queues and_ shortages. . . It was possible to envisage many things even from a distance. And some things happened even to us, buried securely in the country. We, too, gaped and joked at girls in knickerbockers, girls in gaiters, girls on the land, girls trying to do what they could with ploughs and pigs and cattle. But until my return to London recently I had only somo vague and - possibly inaccurate pictures of London life in war time. THE TRIUMPH OF FEMINISM. What, then, did I find? And what were my impressions? My first idea was there was no change in tho metropolis, that the town I had known and loved was still there for mo. There were the same buses, even the same taxis, the same bright shops full of good things, the same theatres and suppers ; there was the same eating and drinking and marrying and giving in marriage—even a little more of this last. The outward face of London did not offer me any remarkable changes. If I had not known -there was a war on I should not have suspected it. But I should have rubbed my eyes and stared in wonderment at the triumph of feminism. Yes, that was the first and greatest surprise sprung upon me in my revisit. Where beforo there had been young men in plenty in tho streets, on the side-paths, in the buses and on tho vans, there were now visible only girls and women. A girl pulled irie up the omnibus steps as the bell rang and I stumbled'; a girl handed me my parcels; when I went into my club girls brought me dishes and wines, not the remembered familiar faces. And they did it well, adroitly, without fuss or rumpus or advertising hustle. One of the tilings we have evidently learnt in the war is that woman can bo as efficient as man—of course, in suitable callings—-without a greater display of excitement, confusion or emotion. I have every belief that when girls have invaded tho realm of man in departments that fit them they will remain as conquerors. I say the women were on the footpaths and in the streets; but so were the men. But the men were in khaki. London gave me the impression of being one gigantic camp. Soldiers were everywhere. I started to count them one morning, but I gave it was a hopeless task. I went to a place of entertainment, and found nearly 50 per cent, of the audience wore khaki. Unfamiliar headgear greeted me, whether Australian or New Zealand or South African. Here, indeed, was a new world in which I walked. Slave on parade, or on some official occasions, I had never seen the officers' uniform in London streets. Behold, after three years' absence, it was everywhere. TWO SPIRITUAL DIFFERENCES. Now, what feeling did I get out of all this silent revolution? Amid the. amazing sameness of life in all essentials, the carrying on of trade, the cheerful comingn and goings, tho whistling messenger, the thundering numbers, I recognised what I may call two spiritual differences. These are a greater sobriety, and a franker acceptance of comradeship; the shops were full of expensive articles, of luxurious _ things, and, no doubt, were well patronised; at teatime the innumerable resorts were, filled with a rush of young folk and old—chattering, eating, drinking, and laughing. But was this war time? Yes, I began to get behind tho surfaoo of things and see the real significance of these appearances. The scenes I saw were the result, not of carelessness, still less of callousness; _ they sprang from tho greater freedom of intercourse which the war, which brought us all together, has engendered. This increased freedom is very delightful; and I bebevo it has come to stay. I saw beneath tho exterior, and I read there an easier relation of the sexes arising out of the greater confidence and trust which women have achieved in ' themselves, combined with their administration and affection for our gallant boys. Don't laugh at the word affection, .for I am going to explain that. This independence of women has brought with it, not what somo people feared, extravagance, but a greater sobriety; ancl the relations between tho sexes are established anew on a firmer and healthier and pleasanter basis. But this comradeship, this drawing together, is not merely an affair of young folk. It is observable in all strata of society. In a very real way, the insular austerity or aloofness of our manners is being relaxed. Tho very sight of khaki in tho "streets is a dissolvent. The splendid sacrifice of our young men in all stations has made a call upon the chords of the heart. A soldier passing shines in tho reflected glory of the Great Sacrifice. The camaraderie of the town i 3 significant and portentous. Out of it shall emerge a newer civilisation. Sjucli at least are my thoughts. Tho Groat City has softened; its colours is not so austere; it has gained flexibility,in addition to strength. Tho community of interests, of sacrifice, of hope, of ideals, has marked a further and a larger step in the evolution of our race. —Daily Chronicle. . r ;