of learning what is going on behind the enemy's lines.
It is obvious, therefore, that to have and keep control of the air is
a very, very important thing.

* * * * *

No one who has been in Europe during the past two years can have
failed to notice the unpopularity of the Belgians among the French
and English. This is regrettable but true. Also it is unjust. When I
left Belgium in the late autumn of 1914 the Belgians were looked on as
a nation of heroes. They were acclaimed as the saviors of Europe.
Nothing was too good for them. The sight of a Belgian uniform in the
streets of London or Paris was the signal for a popular ovation. When
the red-black-and-yellow banner was displayed on the stage of a
music-hall the audience rose en masse. The story of the defense of
Liege sent a thrill of admiration round the world. But in the two and
a half years that have passed since then there has become noticeable
among French and English--particularly among the English--a steadily
growing dislike for their Belgian allies; a dislike which has, in
certain quarters, grown into a thinly veiled contempt. I have
repeatedly heard it asserted that the Belgian has been spoiled by too
much charity, that he is lazy and ungrateful and complaining, that he
has become a professional pauper, that he has been greatly overrated
as a fighter, and that he has had enough of the war and is ready to
quit.

The truth of the matter is this: The majority of the Belgians who fled
before the advancing Germans belonged to the lower classes; they were
for the most part uneducated and lacking in mental discipline. Is it
any wonder, then, that they gave way to blind panic when the stories
of the barbarities practised by the invaders reached their ears, or
that their heads were turned by the hysterical enthusiasm, the lavish
hospitality, with which they were received in England? That as a
result of being thus lionized, many of these ignorant and mercurial
people became fault-finding and overbearing, there is no denying. Nor
can it be truthfully gainsaid that, for a year or more after the war
began, there hung about the London restaurants and music-halls a
number of young Belgians who ought to have been with their army on the
firing-line. But, if my memory serves me rightly, I think that I saw
quite a number of English youths doing the same thing. Every country
has its slackers, and Belgium is no exception. But to attempt to
beli