et had flung about the
world. One night, soon after we left Honolulu, we were stopped. We
thought it was a British cruiser that stopped us, but she would only
ask questions--answering those we asked was not for her!
But we were ashore at last. There remained only the trip across the
United States to New York and the voyage across the Atlantic home.
CHAPTER III
Now indeed we began to get real news of the war. We heard of how that
little British army had flung itself into the maw of the Hun. I came
to know something of the glories of the retreat from Mons, and of how
French and British had turned together at the Marne and had saved
Paris. But, alas, I heard too of how many brave men had died--had
been sacrificed, many and many a man of them, to the failure of
Britain to prepare.
That was past and done. What had been wrong was being mended now.
Better, indeed--ah, a thousand times better!--had Britain given heed
to Lord Roberts, when he preached the gospel of readiness and prayed
his countrymen to prepare for the war that he in his wisdom had
foreseen. But it was easier now to look into the future.
I could see, as all the world was beginning to see, that this war was
not like other wars. Lord Kitchener had said that Britain must make
ready for a three year war, and I, for one, believed him when others
scoffed, and said he was talking so to make the recruits for his
armies come faster to the colors. I could see that this war might
last for years. And it was then, back in 1914, in the first winter of
the war, that I began to warn my friends in America that they might
well expect the Hun to drag them into the war before its end. And I
made up my mind that I must beg Americans who would listen to me to
prepare.
So, all the way across the continent, I spoke, in every town we
visited, on that subject of preparedness. I had seen Britain, living
in just such a blissful anticipation of eternal peace as America then
dreamed of. I had heard, for years, every attempt that was made to
induce Britain to increase her army met with the one, unvarying reply.
"We have our fleet!" That was the answer that was made. And, be it
remembered, that at sea, Britain _was_ prepared! "We have our fleet.
We need no army. If there is a Continental war, we may not be drawn
in at all. Even if we are, they can't reach us. The fleet is between
us and invasion."
"But," said the advocates of preparedness, "we might have to send an
exped
|