TRUST TOMMY

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 31, 29 April 1927, Page 3

TRUST TOMMY

TO PROTECT THE EMPIRE HiS JOB IN CHINA ~1 ,", is , h the y wouldn’t. I wish t'lov vouldn t do St, those apostles of universal brotherhood, writes Robert fuHv h to°d d - ~°r ls prepared Che"! d ° all he can to Prevent our troops from protecting British lives in 'T^ 1 J l ifJ^ an ° ther 1 SU&grests blandly that rvit h • ov ° nly a few thousands of Britons in Shanghai, and as not many ar K °f i he working class, they ought to be left to the tender mercies of the fanatical Cantonese mob'' As an old Socialist and friend of labour, I wish they wouldn’t do it; because when Englishmen curse the r own people and bless their enemies, and when they shut their eyes to facts and wallow in shibboleths, it makes my hair fall out, and I have none to spare. One would need not eyes, but what Sam Weller called “patent double million gas magnifyers of hextra power” to discover any signs or hopes of the solidarity of nations” on our poor old planet in these post-war times. Every lover of peace should stand fast by the British commonwealth of nations and the United States of America. The man who libels or disparages any of the English-speaking peoples is playing up for battle and murder and sudden death. SMILES—IN UNIFORM A comparison of the malign mouthings of our peculiar philanthropists with the conduct and bearing of our sailors and soldiers in times of dangerous crises affords an arresting object lesson in the mentality of the English people. I read with appreciative amusement of the landing of the Durhams and the Gioucesters at Shanghai. The Chinese populace, who had been taught by our jolly Russian comrades that the brutal English soldiery were ruthless monsters who delighted in the murder and torture of women and children, crowded to the quays to gaze with horror and loathing upon the hireling ruffians of their foreign oppressor. And they beheld packed in serried lines along the trooper’s decks, some hundreds of smiling, friendly boys in uniform. It was like a crowd of trained schoolboys, eager to land, eager to stretch their legs, eager to play, and especially anxious as to the position of the local football fields. Before our regiments had been an hour ashore the Chinese observer's had come to the conclusion that the lads in khaki were not savage, but quite mad. Such an experience, due to the inbred good nature of our English soldiers, does more for peace and the solidarity of nations than all the frothy declarations of our pacifist apostles. These smiling, helpful, friendly British sailors and soldiers, so sensible and patient, are our best diplomatists. This was proved during our German occupation. It is almost impossible to hate Tommy Atkins, for he himself is clean and whole and knows not envy, hatred or malice. He does not even hate our enemy he fights with, and after the fighting bears no grudge. He is a modest but effectual missionary of good will and merits our honour and our love. INVALUABLE MORAL ASSET Every foolish denunciation of British policy and British character goes to fan the suspicion and inflame the jealousy of ill-informed foreign nations. It does not serve the cause of peace to lend approval to the falsehoods of foreign emissaries working for a policy of hatred and disruption. Every anti-British speech made by a British subject is a help to the enemies who malign and the rivals who mistrust us. And the events of the last twenty years prove the British to be the most modest and the most friendly people in the world. Hurled unexpectedly and unready into a terrific and terrible w ar, they played their part magnificently, and have now buried the hatchet and are honourably paying their debts and more than their debts. I say then that in the campaign of malice and misrepresentation which is being carried on against us, the presence of our soldiers and sailors-is an invaluable moral asset. Foreigners need not understand English to understand Tommy. They need only to see him. He looks good. No one could mistake him for a cut-throat or a ruffian. , Were there no danger to be feared in China the landing of British troops at Shanghai would be a good diplomatic move, for the character of our soldiers must prove the best of testimonials in our favour. Tommy s presence will go far to counteract the evil effects of British pacifist oratory. Tommy will gain victories though he never fire a shot, and that because he is a good fellow and a sport. “WE’VE GOT IT NOW!”

And what a sport he is. When I was acting as military correspondent for the ‘"Daily Mail” at the manoeuvres of 1910, I was greatly impressed by one incident at the close of the last sham fight. It was late evening. Hearing cheers and the sound of marching feet, I went out into the square and was just in time to see the Seventh Brigade of the Fourth * Division of the Blue Army pass on their way to entrain for Portsmouth. The brigade was composed of the Cornwalls, Oxfords, and Staffords. They had been at work, and hard at work, since daylight, and had now marched eleven miles into Swindon. They were clean and trim, and might, from their appearance, have just turned out fresh for parade. They came along at a swinging pace, marching, I judged, at the rate of five miles an hour, and singing as they came. It was this singing which struck me as significant. It was so characteristic of the English mentality and the soldier’s whimsical humour. These troops belonged to the defeated army, and after giving in ringing tones the well-known slogan: “Are we downhearted? No!” they sang some liltful tune of which the refrain went something in this wise: You never know you’ve got it till you get it, If you get it don’t kick up a row, If anybody’s ever going to get it, We’ve got it now! I cannot imagine soldiers of any other nation singing such a song as that. It was a jest of a regiment of good sports. And these men were splendid infantry. As one of our coirespondents said: They as if they could march over houses. l es. Those were the men of Mons. “THIS IS A WAR!’' I met some of the Mons men later, after the battle and was impressd by their cheerfulness. One little chap of the Surrey Regiment I saw in hospital blue at Havre. He was annoyed because he had been detained for it touch of fever and could not go up to the Aisne. He told me that on the retreat from Mons he lost nearly all his kit. He said with a wide smile: “1 marched ill at last with only my shirt and trousers, but I brought my blinking arms. 1 never let go of my rifle.” Then he lit a cigarette and said: T hope to be in it next week. It’s a great sport It’s the linest bloomin’ sport ever invented. He beamed with pleasure. I never saw that cheerful boy again. But after the deadly fighting at Hilt 60 in one of the picture papers was a group of soldiers standing amongst some broken ruins, and in the middle them was niv little soldier, smiling more happily than ever. And when Lord Northeliffe’s car was leaving the Versailles Hospital and he asked a crowd of wounded men if there was anything he could do for them they

shouted aloud: “Give us plenty of football, sir.” But my favourite story was told me by another correspondent who handed his paper to a sapper and sergeant of engineers who were sitting on a log by the wayside. The sergeant thanked him, turned the paper over, and asked, “Why, where’s the football?” and when he was told that for the duration there would be no football reports he gazed at the sapper and said, “Crumbs! This is a war!” HYSTERICAL LIBELS After the battle of Mons the German generals spoke of the old Contemptibles as “an army of non-com-missioned officers.” It would have been more exact to call them an army of gentlemen. For Tommy is one of Nature’s gentlemen, and does honour to his country, go where he may. After the Armistice, when he arrived in Germany, he astonished his hosts and hostesses in the billets by his camaraderie and absence or arrogance or ill-will. The war was over, and he bore no grudge to “Jerry,” but set to work at once to chop the wood and pump the water and fraternise with the German children. A friend of mine who had been in Cologne at the time, told me how astonished the Germans were when British officers in the tram-cars gave up t*ieir seats to working-class women. The Prussian officer would have pushed them off the pavement. Those helpful British soldiers in Germany, like the smiling Tommies at Shanghai and the good-humoured bluejackets who kept their heads under planned provocation at Hankow, are a testimonial to the race and an example to all of us at home or abroad. The British sailor's retort to the frenzied Chinaman who had tried to taunt him into blows was delightfully British: “Here, you hop it.” So, as I say, why make the task of our lovable fighting men more dangerous and difficult by lending colour to Chinese fears and Bolshevist lies? Why set nation against nation by preaching an impossible brotherhood based on the defamation of our own people? Those anti-British speeches will be held up as representative of British public opinion. Those hysterical libels will increase Chinese hostility. These apostles of peace are making for war. I wish they -would no*.