them, at the price of half a million German
casualities, in the spring. German colonies have ceased to exist;
German foreign trade is dead; the German navy is cooped up in Kiel
harbour; and Germany is so short of men that she has resorted to
outrageous deportations from Belgium in order to obtain industrial
labour. On the other hand, our supply of munitions now, at the opening
of 1917, is double what it was six months ago, and our new armies are
not yet all in the field. The British Navy, despite all losses, has
increased enormously both in tonnage and personnel. So I don't think
we are fought to a standstill yet.
"Yes, you are right. All this bloodshed is dreadful. But
responsibility for bloodshed rests not with the people who end a war
but with the people who began it. As for discussing terms of peace
now, what terms _could_ be arranged which Germany could be relied upon
to observe a moment longer than suited her? Have you forgotten the
way the War was forced on the world by Prussian militarism? The trick
played on Russia over mobilization? The violation of Belgian
neutrality? Malines, Termonde, Louvain? The official raping in the
market-place at Liege? The _Lusitania_? Edith Cavell? The Zeppelin
murders? Chlorine gas? The deportations from Belgium and Lille?
Wittenburg typhus camp, where men were left to rot, without doctors,
or medicine, or bedding? How can one talk of "honourable peace" with
such a gang of criminal lunatics? Ask yourself who would be such a
fool as to propose to end a war upon terms which left the safety of
the world exposed to the prospect of another outbreak from the same
source?
"You, sir? _Why can't you people in England be a bit kinder in their
tone to us here in America?_ Ah, now you are talking! Let us get away
from this crowd and go into the matter--get together, as you say."
CHAPTER FOUR
So the average Briton and the average American retire to a secluded
spot, and "get together." The American repeats his question:
"Why can't your people over there be a bit kinder? Why can't you
consider our feelings a bit more? You haven't been over and above
polite to us of late--or indeed at any time."
"No," admits the Briton thoughtfully, "I suppose we have not.
Politeness is not exactly our strong suit. In my country we are not
even polite to one another!" (Try as he will, he cannot help saying
this with just the least air of pride and satisfaction.) "But I admit
that that is n
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