A LETTER FROM MISS JANET ATKINSON.

White Ribbon, Volume 41, Issue 490, 18 July 1936, Page 10

A LETTER FROM MISS JANET ATKINSON.

Hotel Cosmopolite, Bruges. May 21st. 1936. When on cold days I used to sit in a draughty room at Victoria College translating Victor Hugo's poem on Waterloo, I always imagined the place as a vast frozen plain, with never a blade of grass growing or a ray of sun. Imagine how 1 felt to find t a glorious green expanse, with happy farms and lovely trees! The colouring on the day of my visit must have l>een very like that of „une iSth,

1815, judging by the panorama ol the liattlo which we viewed first. Unluckily, the building was very crowded, so I did not see the vast circular painting as well as 1 could have wished; nor was my shamefully vague knowledge of the Inn tie helped by the fact that our guide's English became involved at exciting moments, and he used the word “retreat" in place of “advance,’” and vice versa! After viewing the panorama, we climbed the mound (which is some 100 feet high) by 250 steps, which, ol course could not daunt a native of Wellington. This mound was made of the material from either side of the sunken road where Napoleon’s cavalry charged and were so cruelly slaughtered. It is surmounted by a lion made from the metal of French cannon found on the field, who looks with defiance towards France. Our guiie suggested that some people might think it wiser for the animal to be turned now to snarl at Germany rather than at France. Sitting on the steps by the lion and looking over the lovely country scene, while the wind blew broom perfume round one, it was hard to realise the scene of 1815, and harder still that of 1915. To travel hereabouts, however, does help the realisation of what Belgium endured in the war. Everything now looks well kept, and so it must have looked Indore the invasion. To have had all taken and to ha\e had the enemy in the capital; in fact, 1 wonder what part remained uninvaded and free. Js it any wonder that countries whose boundaries are mere ditches for the invader to leap keep their armies in good order? Never before had I realised how it must feel to be cheek by jowl with neighbours much stronger than oneself, whose intentions are problematical. A cornel ’way down in the I’uciftc is a happy place to live in, but not a good point from which to judge the problems of the European nations, especially the smaller ones. The neighbours so near and so powerful are a problem New Zealand never had, and may never have. But Ido wish the Dominion could be joined to Europe for a year, by which 1 mean be literal 1> a portion of the Continent. Defence would then have a truly vivid meaning for every one of us, and our sometimeslamented isolation would be regarded as a blessing. I gave Waterloo a silent greeting from Aotea-roa, and came away with far keener understanding of the need for defence in Europe than ever 1 had had before. But may it never be needed in action!