GLORY THAT WAS FRANCE

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 5, Issue 11, 2 February 1942, Page 6

GLORY THAT WAS FRANCE

LAND AND EMPIRE TORN BY ENEMIES THE ROLE OF MARSHAL PETAIN There once was a man wlio was very agecl and feeble. All he was able to do was to nod. His head kept nodding lilte the head of a toy figure. He even nodded when he wanted to say "No." He did not say much because it was an effort for him to speak; but when lie was nudged he knew that the effort had to be made and he littered the oaic word that he could still pronounce in its fullness. The word was "Honour." After he had said it, lie relapsed into feebleness, feeling that all was well ance more with his world (writes R. J> Minney in the November issue of the Strand Magazine). "Honour," he said when the traitors at his sde", digging sharply with their elbows, urger him to break his pledged word to Britain and surrender his country to the enemy. "Honour'! Honour!" he murmured, as with each nud£e the glory that was once France dimmed, and that fair land was torn by her enemies, who took away the golden corn, leaving the French women and children hungry, and took also the rich stores, the oil, the iron and the coal that had been amassed to defend the proud name of France.

"But our colonics arc saved," they told him hoarsely, "those they are riot going to take from lis." The time came when the enemy overran even the Empire that was once France's. The Huns swarmed across Morocco. The Italians strutted through Algiers. Dakar too came within - the uneasiness of the people, the old man, at the appointed nudge, uttered the only word he could speaks "Honour." That, at any rate, they were assured, was safe. Then the.' honourable Japanese overran the honourable Indo-China. ' Honoui ! Honour!" the. old man croaked. It had become by now an act of honour for the traitors of France to make every humiliating surrender, to stall in the heart their friends and even their own people. And I have no doubt when the old man walks abroad, the hurrying crowds —if they have anything to hurry for any more —in passing him, nudging him however accidentally with then elbows, will produce that one known sound from his lips. This is the shame that has beceme the honour of Petain.