was good for Greece, and was not concerned with a Balkan alliance,
thought most unwise. Venizelos also was working for the good of Greece,
but he was convinced it could come to her only through the union. He was
willing to give Kavalla to Bulgaria in exchange for Asia Minor, from the
Dardanelles to Smyrna. But the King would not consent. As a buffer
against Turkey, he considered Kavalla of the greatest strategic value,
and he had the natural pride of a soldier in holding on to land he
himself had added to his country. But in his opposition to Venizelos in
this particular, credit was not given him for acting in the interests of
Greece, but of playing into the hands of Germany.

Another step he refused to take, which refusal the Allies attributed to
his pro-German leanings, was to attack the Dardanelles. In the wars of
1912-13 the King showed he was an able general. With his staff he had
carefully considered an attack upon the Dardanelles. He submitted this
plan to the Allies, and was willing to aid them if they brought to the
assault 400,000 men. They claim he failed them. He did fail them, but
not until after they had failed him by bringing thousands of men instead
of the tens of thousands he knew were needed.

The Dardanelles expedition was not required to prove the courage of the
French and British. Beyond furnishing fresh evidence of that, it has
been a failure. And in refusing to sacrifice the lives of his subjects
the military judgment of Constantine has been vindicated. He was willing
to attack Turkey through Kavalla and Thrace, because by that route he
presented an armed front to Bulgaria. But, as he pointed out, if he sent
his army to the Dardanelles, he left Kavalla at the mercy of his enemy.
In his mistrust of Bulgaria he has certainly been justified.

Greece is not at war, but in outward appearance she is as firmly on a
war footing as is France or Italy. A man out of uniform is conspicuous,
and all day regiments pass through the streets carrying the campaign kit
and followed by the medical corps, the mountain batteries, and the
transport wagons. In the streets the crowds are cheering Denys Cochin,
the special ambassador from France. He makes speeches to them from the
balcony of our hotel, and the mob wave flags and shout "Zito! Zito!"

In a play Colonel Savage produced, I once wrote the same scene and
placed it in the same hotel in Athens. In Athens the local color was
superior to ours, but George Marion s