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Great Writing - Home > Extended > The Polish Connection - Chapter 38
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Extended Work
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| The Polish Connection - Chapter 38 | |
| By jean.day | ||||||||||||||||||
| 04 November 2006 | ||||||||||||||||||
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January, 1919 “Dear Barbara, Rebecca and my little Beth, The war might be over, but we are not yet free. In fact, some of our most difficult days have been those that came after the armistice. The war was over. We all felt sure that the longed-for day of release was at last arriving. Almost all work in camp came to an end and it is difficult to persuade men that it is worthwhile to undertake any operation except that of packing their belongings. Men who have borne up against previous troubles are beginning to give way under this final strain. There was also a new journalistic agitation against allowing any enemy alien to remain in England, and this raised fresh anxieties among those whose families and ties bound them close to England. At length some movement has begun. Small parties left for repatriation to Germany; there are no ships available to take large numbers. A new committee has been set up, to investigate the cases of those who wish to remain in England. Our friends all left until only the industrial adviser was here, living now in official quarters in camp, and largely occupied in closing and clearing the workshops. We have heard that about three thousand of the interned civilians will be allowed to remain in England but must go first to other camps, until they will be released in batches, and enabled at last to rejoin their families and see with their own eyes what havoc the war has made in their homes. I am hopeful that I will be out of here and back to your home again within a month or so. One of my fellow internees, Johann Sauer, has just told me that he will be sent back to Germany, to Weisslensburg where he was born when we leave. His request to remain in Britain was denied. He was in tears. He has an English wife and 6 English born children. I suppose the tribunals who make these decisions are looking for retribution for all the English dead as a result of the war, but poor Johann had no more to do with it than I did. He also has been here since 1915. Love Peter” John went back to his University job almost immediately after Christmas and is very involved in his work again. The girls have gone back to school, as the worst of the flu seems to be over. They think the cold weather has had a beneficial effect. Here is the newspaper story about our favourite American at the moment. Friday December 27, 1918 Guardian Unlimited During his wonderful progress this afternoon from Charing Cross Station to Buckingham Palace, President Wilson did not see much of London. The expressive countenance of our streets was hidden under a brilliant mask of flags. There has not been such a show of colour or such genuine lightheartedness in the crowd since Coronation days in the world before the war. All the gaiety pent up through the cruel four and a half years seemed to be released in the great noise of cheering that rose round the leader of the world’s peace. Londoners flocked by the tens of thousands into the narrow two miles of street to see him. Twenty thousand soldiers with bayonets bright in the December sunshine lined the route, guards in war khaki rode before the carriage. But this was not a military show. The plain citizen raising a tall hat in response to the cheers was the centre of all. When the cavalry escort came jingling out of the sanded courtyard at Charing Cross, preceding the carriage in which the President and King George sat side by side, a roar of cheers went up. It gathered volume all the way round the West End to the Palace. The Charing Cross crowd took to President Wilson at first sight. This President Wilson who sat very erect beside the King was a man with a powerful head and a full, fresh-coloured face - a face irradiated by the famous smile. The smile positively shone. The President was clearly genuinely pleased and moved by the good fellowship and hero worship of the crowd. He raised his silk hat - women remarked that it was brand new - and waved it with a generous gesture. The bells rang out joyously, ringing a sharp note with the long soft murmur of cheers. In the clear sky at this moment there appeared a flight of aeroplanes in arrowhead formation; it seemed to follow the procession as an aerial escort. The shine from the big red sun caught the planes and turned them into silver. A band played the President along into the wide pool of humanity collected in Trafalgar Square. As the carriages went by the pavement had appreciative eyes for the President’s wife, who sat in a carriage with our Queen and Princess Mary. Mrs Wilson appeared to be thoroughly alive to every detail of the scene; her black eyes sparkled. The President received the salutation of Queen Alexandra, who came out on the pavement in front of Marlborough House with the Queen of Norway and little Prince Olaf. The crowd, unbidden, fell back and left a clear space for the Queen Mother and her party. When the carriage was passing, the King drew the President’s attention to his mother, and he rose, waved his hat, and bowed. Queen Alexandra responded by waving a little Stars and Stripes flag. Mrs Wilson waved her bouquet of orchids in greeting to Queen Alexandra. America provided the strongest flavour in Constitution Hill near the Palace. Here were soldiers in khaki who proclaimed themselves on a board as “Americans in British uniforms”, also a cheerful group of sailors with a ragtime band. All down the road innumerable little flags fluttered in men’s caps. Queer American yells drowned stolid British cheers. An American airman appeared overhead and did various stunts. He threw himself about in the sky like an urchin turning Catherine wheels. British Bluejackets were on guard at the Palace gates. The wide space round the Victoria Memorial was jammed. There was an Australian soldier perched on the head of one of the calm white statues - he was envied by thousands. Australian and every other kind of soldier started the rhythmic shout “We want Wilson” the moment the party had gone inside. A scarlet cloth was spread over the balcony, and everyone knew the President would appear. Soon after three he gratified the multitude by coming out, with his wife and the King and Queen. He stood there tall, imposing, bareheaded. Queen Mary handed him a Union Jack, which he waved. His smile gleamed in the dusk. He addressed a few words expressing his gratitude and pleasure, but they were heard by very few. He disappeared. Darkness fell on the frozen park, and the crowd poured way down the Mall past the captured German guns.
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