Men wearying in trenches2 used to tell one another sometimes what they fancied the end of the war would be like. Each had his particular favourite vision. Some morning the Captain would come down the trench1 at "stand-to" and try to speak as if it were nothing. "All right, men," he would say, "you can go across and shake hands." Or the first thing we should hear would be some jubilant peal3 suddenly shaken out on the air from the nearest standing4 church in the rear. But the commonest vision was that of marching down a road to a wide, shining river. Once more the longing6 of a multitude struggling slowly across a venomous wilderness7 fixed8 itself on the first glimpse of a Jordan beyond; for most men the Rhine was the physical goal of effort, the term of endurance, the symbol of all attainment9 and rest.
To win what your youth had desired, and find the taste of it gone, is said to be one of the standard pains of old age. With a kind of blank space in their minds where the joy of fulfilment ought to have been, two British privates of 1914, now Captains attached to the Staff, emerged from the narrow and crowded High Street of Cologne on December 7, 1918, crossed the Cathedral square, and gained their first sight of the Rhine. As they stood on the Hohenzollern bridge and looked at the mighty10 breadth of rushing stream, each of them certainly gave his heart leave to leap up if it would and if it could. Had they not, by toil11 and entreaty12, gained permission to enter the city with our first cavalry13? Were they not putting their lips to the first glass of the sparkling vintage of victory? Neither of them said anything then. The heart that knoweth its own bitterness need not always avow14 it straight off. But they were friends; they told afterwards.
The first hours of that ultimate winding-up of the old, long-decayed estate of hopes and illusions were not the worst, either. The cavalry brigadier in command at Cologne, those first few days, was a man with a good fighting record; and now his gesture towards the conquered was that of the happy warrior15, that of Virgilian Rome, that of the older England in hours of victory. German civilians16 clearly expected some kind of mal-treatment, such perhaps as their own scum had given to Belgians. They strove with desperate care to be correct in their bearing, neither to jostle us accidentally in the streets nor to shrink away from us pointedly17. Soon, to their surprise and shame, they found that among the combatant English there lingered the hobby of acting18 like those whom the Germans had known through their Shakespeare: "We give express charge that in our marches through the country there be nothing compelled from the villages, nothing taken but paid for, none of the French upbraided19 or abused in disdainful language."
The "cease fire" order on Armistice20 Day had forbidden all "fraternizing." But any man who has fought with a sword, or its equivalent, knows more about that than the man who has only blown with a trumpet21. To men who for years have lived like foxes or badgers22, dodging23 their way from each day of being alive to the next, there comes back more easily, after a war, a sense of the tacit league that must, in mere24 decency25, bind26 together all who cling precariously27 to life on a half-barren ball that goes spinning through space. All castaways together, all really marooned28 on the one desert island, they know that, however hard we may have to fight to sober a bully29 or guard to each man his share of the shell-fish and clams30, we all have to come back at last to the joint31 work of making the island more fit to live on. The gesture of the decimated troops who held Cologne at the end of that year was, in essence, that of the cavalry brigadiers. Sober or drunk, the men were contumaciously32 sportsmen, incorrigibly33 English. One night before Christmas I thought I heard voices outside my quarters long after curfew, and went to look out from my balcony high up in the Domhof into the moon-flooded expanse of the Cathedral square below. By rights there should have been no figures there at that hour, German or British. But there were three; two tipsy Highlanders—"Women from Hell," as German soldiers used to call the demonic stabbers in kilts—gravely dispensing34 the consolations35 of chivalry36 to a stout37 burgher of Cologne. "Och, dinna tak' it to hairrt, mon. I tell ye that your lads were grond." It was like a last leap of the flame that had burnt clear and high four years before.
II
For the day of the fighting man, him and his chivalric38 hobbies, was over. The guns had hardly ceased to fire before from the rear, from the bases, from London, there came flooding up the braves who for all those four years had been squealing39 threats and abuse, some of them begging off service in arms on the plea that squealing was indispensable national work. We had not been long in Cologne when there arrived in hot haste a young pressman from London, one of the first of a swarm40. He looked a fine strong man. He seemed to be one of the male Vestals who have it for their trade to feed the eternal flame of hatred41 between nations, instead of cleaning out stables or doing some other work fit for a male. His train had fortunately brought him just in time for luncheon42. This he ate and drank with goodwill43, complaining only that the wine, which seemed to me good, was not better. He then slept on his bed until tea-time. Reanimated with tea, he said genially44, "Well, I must be getting on with my mission of hate," and retired45 to his room to write a vivacious46 account of the wealth and luxury of Cologne, the guzzling47 in all cafés and restaurants, the fair round bellies48 of all the working class, the sleek49 and rosy50 children of the poor. I read it, two days after, in his paper. Our men who had helped to fight Germany down were going short of food at the time, through feeding the children in houses where they were billeted. "Proper Zoo there is in this place," one of them told me. "Proper lions and tigers. Me and my friend are taking the kids from our billet soon's we've got them fatted up a bit. If you'll believe me, sir, them kiddies ain't safe in a Zoo. They could walk in through the bars and get patting the lions." I had just seen some of the major carnivora in their cages close to the Rhine, each a rectangular lamina of fur and bone like the tottering51 cats I had seen pass through incredible slits52 of space in Amiens a month after the people had fled from the city that spring. But little it mattered in London what he or I saw. The nimble scamps had the ear of the world; what the soldier said was not evidence.
Some Allied53 non-combatants did almost unthinkable things in the first ecstasy54 of the triumph that others had won. One worthy55 drove into Cologne in a car plastered over with union Jacks57, like a minor58 bookie going to Epsom. It passed the wit of man to make him understand that one does not do these things to defeated peoples. But he could understand, with some help, that our Commander-in-Chief alone was entitled to carry a union Jack56 on his car. "We must show these fellows our power"; that was the form of the licence taken out by every churl59 in spirit who wanted to let his coltish60 nature loose on a waiter or barber in some German hotel. I saw one such gallant61 assert the majesty62 of the Allies by refusing to pay more than half the prices put down on the wine-list. Another would send a waiter across an hotel dining-room to order a quiet party of German men and women not to speak so loud. Another was all for inflicting63 little bullying64 indignities65 on the editor of the K?lnische Zeitung—making him print as matters of fact our versions of old cases of German misconduct, etc. Probably he did not even know that the intended exhibition-ground for these deplorable tricks was one of the great journals of Europe.
Not everybody, not even every non-combatant in the dress of a soldier, had caught that shabby epidemic66 of spite. But it was rife67. It had become a fashion to have it, as in some raffish68 circles it is a fashion at times to have some rakish disease. In the German military cemetery69 at Lille I have heard a man reared at one of our most famous public schools and our most noble university, and then wearing our uniform, say that he thought the French might do well to desecrate70 all the German soldiers' graves on French soil. Another, at Brussels, commended a Belgian who was said to have stripped his wife naked in one of the streets of that city and cut off her hair on some airy suspicion of an affair with a German officer during the enemy's occupation. A fine sturdy sneer71 at the notion of doing anything chivalrous72 was by this time the mode. "I hope to God," an oldish and highly non-combatant general said, in discussing the probable terms of peace with a younger general who had begun the war as a full lieutenant73 and fought hard all the way up, "that there's going to be no rot about not kicking a man when he's down." The junior general grunted74. He did not agree. But he clearly felt shy of protesting. Worshippers of setting suns feel ill at ease in discussion with these bright, confident fellows who swear by the rising one.
III
The senior general need not have feared. The generous youth of the war, when England could carry, with no air of burlesque75, the flag of St. George, was pretty well gone. The authentic76 flame might still flicker77 on in the minds of a few tired soldiers and disregarded civilians. Otherwise it was as dead as the half-million of good fellows whom it had fired four years ago, whose credulous78 hearts the maggots were now eating under so many shining and streaming square miles of wet Flanders and Picardy. They gone, their war had lived into a kind of dotage79 ruled by mean fears and desires. At home our places of honour were brown with shirkers masquerading in the dead men's clothes and licensed80 by careless authorities to shelter themselves from all danger under the titles of Colonel, Major, and Captain. Nimble politicians were rushing already to coin into votes for themselves—"the men who won the war"—the golden memory of the dead before the living could come home and make themselves heard. Sounds of a general election, the yells of political cheap-jacks, the bawling82 of some shabby promise, capped by some shabbier bawl81, made their way out to Cologne.
"This way, gents, for the right sort of whip to give Germans!" "Rats, gentlemen, rats! Don't listen to him. Leave it to me and I'll chastise83 'em with scorpions84." "I'll devise the brave punishments for them." "Ah, but I'll sweat you more money out of the swine." That was the gist85 of the din5 that most of the gramophones of the home press gave out on the Rhine. Each little demagogue had got his little pots of pitch and sulphur on sale for the proper giving of hell to the enemy whom he had not faced. Germany lay at our feet, a world's wonder of downfall, a very Lucifer, fallen, broken, bereaved86 beyond all the retributive griefs which Greek tragedy shows you afflicting87 the great who were insolent88, wilful89, and proud. But it was not enough for our small epicures90 of revenge. They wanted to twist the enemy's wrists, where he lay bound, and to run pins into his eyes. And they had the upper hand of us now. The soldiers could only look on while the scurvy91 performance dragged itself out till the meanest of treaties was signed at Versailles. "Fatal Versailles!" as General Sir Ian Hamilton said for us all; "Not a line—not one line in your treaty to show that those boys (our friends who were dead) had been any better than the emperors; not one line to stand for the kindliness92 of England; not one word to bring back some memory of the generosity93 of her sons!"
"The freedom of Europe," "The war to end war," "The overthrow94 of militarism," "The cause of civilization"—most people believe so little now in anything or anyone that they would find it hard to understand the simplicity95 and intensity96 of faith with which these phrases were once taken among our troops, or the certitude felt by hundreds of thousands of men who are now dead that if they were killed their monument would be a new Europe not soured or soiled with the hates and greeds of the old. That the old spirit of Prussia might not infest97 our world any more; that they or, if not they, their sons might breathe a new, cleaner air they had willingly hung themselves up to rot on the uncut wire at Loos or wriggled98 to death, slow hour by hour, in the cold filth99 at Broodseinde. Now all was done that man could do, and all was done in vain. The old spirit of Prussia was blowing anew, from strange mouths. From several species of men who passed for English—as mongrels, curs, shoughs, water-rugs, and demi-wolves are all clept by the name of dogs—there was rising a chorus of shrill100 yelps101 for the outdoing of all the base folly102 committed by Prussia when drunk with her old conquest of France. Prussia, beaten out of the field, had won in the souls of her conquerors103' rulers; they had become her pupils; they took her word for it that she, and not the older England, knew how to use Victory.
IV
Sir Douglas Haig came to Cologne when we had been there a few days. On the grandiose104 bridge over the Rhine he made a short speech to a few of us. Most of it sounded as if the thing were a job he had got to get through with, and did not much care for. Perhaps the speech, like those of other great men who wisely hate making speeches, had been written for him by somebody else. But once he looked up from the paper and put in some words which I felt sure were his own; "I only hope that, now we have won, we shall not lose our heads as the Germans did after 1870. It has brought them to this." He looked at the gigantic mounted statue of the Kaiser overhead, a thing crying out in its pride for fire from heaven to fall and consume it, and at the homely105, squat106 British sentry107 moving below on his post. I think the speech was reported. But none of our foremen at home took any notice of it at all. They knew a trick worth two of Haig's. They were as moonstruck as any victorious108 Prussian.
So we had failed—had won the fight and lost the prize; the garland of the war was withered109 before it was gained. The lost years, the broken youth, the dead friends, the women's overshadowed lives at home, the agony, and bloody110 sweat—all had gone to darken the stains which most of us had thought to scour111 out of the world that our children would live in. Many men felt, and said to each other, that they had been fooled. They had believed that their country was backing them. They had thought, as they marched into Germany, "Now we shall show old Fritz how you treat a man when you've thrashed him." They would let him into the English secret, the tip that the power and glory are not to the bully. As some of them looked at the melancholy112 performance which followed, our Press and our politicians parading at Paris in moral pickelhauben and doing the Prussianist goose-step by way of pas de triomphe, they could not but say in dismay to themselves: "This is our doing. We cannot wish the war unwon; and yet—if we had shirked, poor old England, for all we know, might not have come to this pass. So we come home draggle-tailed, sick of the mess that we were unwittingly helping113 to make when we tried to do well."
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1
trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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trenches
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| 深沟，地沟( trench的名词复数 )； 战壕 | |
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peal
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| n.钟声；v.鸣响 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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din
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| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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attainment
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| n.达到，到达；［常pl.］成就，造诣 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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entreaty
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| n.恳求，哀求 | |
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cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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avow
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| v.承认，公开宣称 | |
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warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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civilians
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| 平民，百姓( civilian的名词复数 )； 老百姓 | |
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pointedly
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| adv.尖地，明显地 | |
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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upbraided
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| v.责备，申斥，谴责( upbraid的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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armistice
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| n.休战，停战协定 | |
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trumpet
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| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
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badgers
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| n.獾( badger的名词复数 )；獾皮；（大写）獾州人（美国威斯康星州人的别称）；毛鼻袋熊 | |
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dodging
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| n.避开，闪过，音调改变v.闪躲( dodge的现在分词 )；回避 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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decency
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| n.体面，得体，合宜，正派，庄重 | |
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bind
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| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
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precariously
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| adv.不安全地；危险地；碰机会地；不稳定地 | |
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marooned
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| adj.被围困的；孤立无援的；无法脱身的 | |
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bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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clams
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| n.蛤；蚌，蛤( clam的名词复数 )v.（在沙滩上）挖蛤( clam的第三人称单数 ) | |
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joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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contumaciously
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incorrigibly
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| adv.无法矫正地；屡教不改地；无可救药地；不能矫正地 | |
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dispensing
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| v.分配( dispense的现在分词 )；施与；配（药） | |
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consolations
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| n.安慰，慰问( consolation的名词复数 )；起安慰作用的人（或事物） | |
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chivalry
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| n.骑士气概，侠义；（男人）对女人彬彬有礼，献殷勤 | |
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chivalric
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| 有武士气概的，有武士风范的 | |
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squealing
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| v.长声尖叫，用长而尖锐的声音说( squeal的现在分词 ) | |
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swarm
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| n.(昆虫)等一大群；vi.成群飞舞；蜂拥而入 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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goodwill
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| n.善意，亲善，信誉，声誉 | |
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genially
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| adv.亲切地，和蔼地；快活地 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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vivacious
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| adj.活泼的，快活的 | |
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guzzling
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| v.狂吃暴饮，大吃大喝( guzzle的现在分词 ) | |
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bellies
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| n.肚子( belly的名词复数 )；腹部；（物体的）圆形或凸起部份；腹部…形的 | |
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sleek
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| adj.光滑的，井然有序的；v.使光滑，梳拢 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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tottering
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| adj.蹒跚的，动摇的v.走得或动得不稳( totter的现在分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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slits
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| n.狭长的口子，裂缝( slit的名词复数 )v.切开，撕开( slit的第三人称单数 )；在…上开狭长口子 | |
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allied
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| adj.协约国的；同盟国的 | |
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ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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jacks
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| n.抓子游戏；千斤顶( jack的名词复数 )；（电）插孔；[电子学]插座；放弃 | |
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minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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churl
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| n.吝啬之人；粗鄙之人 | |
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coltish
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| adj.似小马的；不受拘束的；活泼的 | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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inflicting
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的现在分词 ) | |
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bullying
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| v.恐吓，威逼( bully的现在分词 )；豪；跋扈 | |
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indignities
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| n.侮辱，轻蔑( indignity的名词复数 ) | |
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epidemic
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| n.流行病；盛行；adj.流行性的，流传极广的 | |
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rife
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| adj.(指坏事情)充斥的，流行的，普遍的 | |
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raffish
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| adj.名誉不好的，无赖的，卑鄙的，艳俗的 | |
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cemetery
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| n.坟墓，墓地，坟场 | |
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70
desecrate
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| v.供俗用，亵渎，污辱 | |
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71
sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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72
chivalrous
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| adj.武士精神的；对女人彬彬有礼的 | |
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73
lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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74
grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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75
burlesque
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| v.嘲弄，戏仿；n.嘲弄，取笑，滑稽模仿 | |
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authentic
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| a.真的，真正的；可靠的，可信的，有根据的 | |
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flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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credulous
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| adj.轻信的，易信的 | |
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dotage
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| n.年老体衰；年老昏聩 | |
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licensed
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| adj.得到许可的v.许可，颁发执照(license的过去式和过去分词) | |
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81
bawl
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| v.大喊大叫，大声地喊，咆哮 | |
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82
bawling
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的现在分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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83
chastise
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| vt.责骂，严惩 | |
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84
scorpions
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| n.蝎子( scorpion的名词复数 ) | |
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85
gist
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| n.要旨；梗概 | |
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86
bereaved
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| adj.刚刚丧失亲人的v.使失去（希望、生命等）( bereave的过去式和过去分词)；（尤指死亡）使丧失（亲人、朋友等）；使孤寂；抢走（财物） | |
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afflicting
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| 痛苦的 | |
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insolent
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| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
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wilful
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| adj.任性的，故意的 | |
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90
epicures
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| n.讲究饮食的人( epicure的名词复数 ) | |
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scurvy
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| adj.下流的，卑鄙的，无礼的；n.坏血病 | |
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kindliness
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| n.厚道，亲切，友好的行为 | |
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generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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overthrow
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| v.推翻，打倒，颠覆；n.推翻，瓦解，颠覆 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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infest
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| v.大批出没于；侵扰；寄生于 | |
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wriggled
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等） | |
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99
filth
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| n.肮脏，污物，污秽；淫猥 | |
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100
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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101
yelps
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| n.（因痛苦、气愤、兴奋等的）短而尖的叫声( yelp的名词复数 )v.发出短而尖的叫声( yelp的第三人称单数 ) | |
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102
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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103
conquerors
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| 征服者，占领者( conqueror的名词复数 ) | |
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104
grandiose
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| adj.宏伟的，宏大的，堂皇的，铺张的 | |
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homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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106
squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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107
sentry
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| n.哨兵，警卫 | |
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108
victorious
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| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
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109
withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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111
scour
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| v.搜索；擦，洗，腹泻，冲刷 | |
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112
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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113
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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