Evening Star Newspaper, November 8, 1931, Page 81

FIELD MARSHAL THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. i.n b ' 24 ALLENBY Armistice Day Message From England’s Great Soldier, the Liberator of the HolyL.and, Coun- sels Internationalism as Antidote for Conflict and Warns English- Speaking Nations They Must Show the Rest of the World the Path of Peace. BY BETTY ROSS. LONDON. OW can the civilized world avert II wars of the future?” I asked this question of Field Marshal Allenby, most famous general in the British Empire, noted for his campaigns in South Africa, Palestine, where he liberated the Holy Land, and France, where he was decorated after the retreat from Mons and at the first Battle of Ypres for his exceptional ability in forming elaborate plans for offensive opera- tions as well as for their brilliant execution. “By being sensible,” came his answer. This remark he amplified by explaining: “The more international we become, the less chance of fighting we have. Today nationalism is con- ""sidered a virtue and internationalism a crime, which I think is the wrong way of looking at things. One doesn’t become less patriotic by seeing the point of view of other people. A man is no worse Scot or Irishman or Welsh- man by being faithful to the empire, too. We can keep our individuality without going out- side the ring. “During the last war Canada, Australia, South Africa and India all bound the empire closer together and yet emerged from it with more individuality than they ever had before. You don’'t lose your individuality by being kind to your neighbors. The interests of the entire world are so bound together that every nation would lose by another war.” " S long as we war, we are not civilized,” he declared emphatically. “All we can own up to is a very backward form of civiliza- tion.” “Then you advocate disarmament?” “No. Nations cannot disarm. You do not make your house any safer by leaving the front door open and depending on the thief's sense of honor not to enter. You should look after your own interests and those of your friends. The strong man will always have plenty of friends, but these so-called friends drop the weak one when they find he is a burden. Every man must be a useful member of the com- munity—a useful ally, “So with nations. If they are weaklings and shun responsibility, no one wants their friend- ship. They should be as strong as necessary to protect their interests, but not aggressive.” England, as well as America, sits up at at- tention on the rare occasions when Field Mar- shal the Viscount Allenby discusses problems of modern warfare and world peace, for he is con- sidered Great Britain’s foremost military com- mander since the days of Cromwell. By the world Allenby will forever be remembered as the conqueror and liberator of the Holy Land in its last crusade, for he wrested Jerusalem from the Turks during the World War, there- by fulfilling ancient prophecies and ancient dreams of the Crusaders. For this stroke of military genius and human- itarianism—for he had taken Jerusalem without firing a shot into its sacred walls or spilling a drop of blood—his country added to his titles the name of Megiddo (or, in the Hebrew, Armaged- don), the scriptural name of the site of the last great world battle as foretold in Revelations. While King George made him a viscount and conferred upon him the G. C. B, and the allies vied with each other in bestowing honors upon him, he himself was proudest when the name of Felixstowe, his boyhood home, was included in his title, because his 94-year-old mother shared his honor with him. 11 CINCE virtually all the nations of the world are undergoing & financial depression, would disarmament be a good economy meas- ure?” I asked him. Lord Allenby shook his head. “Nations can- not stop and disarm like that. I've explained why.” As we discussed the influx of war films, plays and books of the “All Quiet on the Western Front” type, I asked the famous field marshal whether this means of depicting war’s horrors and grimness was not a subtle, effective way of impressing on the younger generation anti- war feelings. “I don’t think so,” was Lord Allenby’s com- ment. “Nor do I believe the proposal to change the name of Armistice day to Peace day would help. On the other hand, I would say that C., NOVEMBER 8, 1931. Peace—or Chaos! AS LONG as we war, we are not civilized. In the next war we shall all be badly hurt. It will go far to shake the world to pieces and mean the end of civilization. Interests of the entire world are so bound to- gether that every nation would lose by another war. Nations cannot disarm. They should be as strong as necessary to protect their interests—but not ag- gressive. The Kellogg Pact gave the world a new hope of peace. Tl\is 'reafy ha, B‘ar'cd a new era. The future of the world is bound up with good understanding between the United States of America and the British Empire. —Viscoune Allenby. showing young people the horrors of war does not have a good effect on them. It rather ex- cites them and makes them long to go through similar experiences themselves. Yet it is not soldiers who make war. Statesmen do. Sol- diers end it—the better the soldier the sooner he stops war,” he added with a smile. ; “Does the end of war lie with the present generation?” A kindly smile hovered about his lips as he replied: “I like to think that it does. We shall all be badly hurt in the next war. It will go far to shake the world to pieces and mean the end of civilization. “Signing the Kellogg pact gave the world a new hope of peace,” he added sanguinely. “While it may not be practical to push further the progress of disarmament, this treaty has started a new era. Perhaps our children, if not ourselves, will be freed from the appalling fear of a war that would destroy that civiliza- tion of which the United States, Great Britain and the other nations of Europe are the trustees.” S the conversation veered into seriousness, Lord Allenby fell into a deep silence. His mind, I felt, was far away from the tastefully furnished drawing room of his home in Weth- erby Gardens, South Kensington, for which he gave up his castle in Deal. What was he thinking about—this famous general with the dignified bearing and handsome, resolute face, on whose broad forehead was written intellect and whose firm chin was stamped with deter- mination? Today, well past his seventieth birthday, his bearing still bespeaks power with imperious- ness, for he is straight as an arrow, well over six feet tall and broadshouldered. His gray hair is sparse, his iron-gray mustache thick and clipped short. Across the vest of his gray —Photo by Elliot & W% Field Marshal Allenby is one of the most noted British generals since the days of Cromwell. suit he was wearing a thin leather strap ine stead of a watch chain. Humor, quick and scintillating, lurks in the corners of his mouth, in little crinkles around his gray eyes, and is the clue to the personality of the man hidden underneath the cloak of titles: Field Marshal the Viscount Allenby of Megiddo and of Felix- towe, G. C. B, G. C. M. G. He is as great a humanitarian as he is a soldier. His twin passions are a love of nature and of children. His comrades often tell how, during a lull in the Battle of Arras in 1917, he rushed out to buy buns for a little French child. In Flanders he decorated a Christmas tree for all the children of a village. Children have always been able to wring his heartstrings. Yet he bore the news of the death in action in France of his only son, a young subaltern of horse artillery, without a murmur, His thoughts flew back to the present, and he smiled broadly when I asked about the stories circulated of his entering Jerusalem with a crucifix in his right hand and a Bible in his left, making his general staff kneel in prayer, their knees in mud, before going into action. “These tales aren’t true. But I did feel a tremendous sense of responsibility, and every man in the army, no matter what his faith, felt proud of the privilege of going for the deliverance of Jerusalem from the Turks. We entered the Holy City solemnly, reverently,” was all he would say of the great campaign that made history for the Holy Land. \ 11" VEN if war is abolished, and I hope that it will be,” he said, picking up the threads of our earlier conversation, “I hope discipline will remain or else we will turn into a disor- ganized rabble. Military discipline is the best form because it is organized. We must have a moral and mental discipline to replace it, without the horror of war. Discipline does not make men love war, but strengthens them in case that time should come. “Moral discipline teaches one to know his duties to his country and to his fellow man,” he explained. “Most people talk about their rights, but duties come before rights. They should think first of their duties. We must discipline the youth of the world. Nations, too, must have this same discipline. As Tennyson said: “Onward, ever, aye, and upward,” he quoted. “How can we find this discipline?” I queried. “Boy Scouts, cadets and other similar organ- izations can teach boys to take their place in the country,” he pointed out. “A boy must be physically and mentally fit to be able to stand up for his country and defend it. Them he Gontinued on Fou)lh Page =43