LONDON IN WAR-TIME

Dominion, Volume 9, Issue 2675, 22 January 1916, Page 6

LONDON IN WAR-TIME

i A v -CITY OF DARKNESS VOWN;Z, SOLDIERS FARE (By,!'' Mrs. Malcolm Ross.) November 29. -Now that winter is upon London, and Slight creeps upon us at four in the afternoon.—to say naught of the heavy fos;a that of toil shroud the city all .day —it is peedful to bo wary when you are afoot. In a vehicle one becomes a fatalist, resigned l to anything, and losing sight of the danger while watching the driver dodgo pedestrians, avoid a lumbering shadow with one eye behind, that you know is a bus, and slip in between the traffio with miraculous dexterity and coolness. It is indeed a fearful joy, and it is astonishing that the , taxi-drivers have nob raised their charges with tlie increased 'responsibility and danger. But to -the pedestrian London after, dark; is' most mysterious and fearful. : I stood, near the Abbey about six o'clock last night—a wet, cold night—and ,-watcheid the extraordinary, expanse of- shimmering blackness, in. which the little lights came and went— signs of unseen ; vehicles.. Now and again the half-shrouded; head-lights of A big motor 'made a brilliance as it glided past, but 'as a rule_ the restriction orders had. been' rigidly. obeyed, and in some cases-the .vehicles carried Tmt- one tinyVlight. behind;. t Hie main fight in the busea is' coiicbiitratecl on ; the"number at the .back,"sa,'it is necessary to wait tillit is up: you before you'flnd out; whether.'it is the one you seek—and then,, probably, you, lose it in tho,hustle. "Add''to;'the mass:,' of -Roueral traffic the great, military motor lorries," a dozen;'of .which often, rumble 'along behind each other, and it will be Readily ' understood' that - London, under the' new 'restrictions, has;its dangers as well as France. It is impossible to tell until one slips- down it, when the kerb >'s reached, and not easy to knoiv whe--1 ther 'ono' is "on a pavoment or on "a 'road;,;. Far up in ,what'. : looks -like : the Mack sky are ohlong patches. of faint' light which are windows in the tall ■ buildings, and the wet blackness of the road looks like the sea on a moonless night. ' To'tho old 1 and nervous, London after dark is'fearsome, and it is little ' wonder that so: many accidents ha-ro occurred. It has bten -calculated that in the seven weeks since the new regulations were put.,in; force, .121 persons have been than those who died from the three Zeppelin raids. The moonlit nights are naturally thoso' when fewest fatalities occur.. In . one •week of dark nights 25 people _ were killed: A .result is-that home is.be- , ginning to prove more' attractive in the evenings, aii'd that many folk never stir 'out. after, dark. But..now that such, short days prevaU, the. streets, between'; . six and seven-are crowded with •; men' and -women getting - home .after'; their day's work, and the marvel is that the. death-rate is so low. There are, too, so many maimed,men now iii London; and the absence of an'eyo, a, leg, or-a strong right arm does not conduce to agility. We are told that the. Zeppelin 1 season is over—they cannot fly in Tough weather— so, . perhaps, .when the Govern- : meht' have time to consider the question, wo.may be allowed more ligtyi..

• A Flying Man. ;' I -Had" the good' fortune to bo staying ' in. the same House with ah aviator who, after some flying/in France, ■ ka4 destroyed, .a' Zeppelin 'and received for his prowess tile Military Cross. He Iras the 1 ; most modest of men and hated to talk about;; what he had done, though he was eloquent about "other, ' chaps' 11 . bravery and cooldoss.- But the deed that gained him hie decoration was one. of great daring, and for his aeroplane—of which he. spoke as of a favourite child, of feminine': gender, of course—swooped suddenly down, on the German airship, and the two men iu it were shot "dead before they could fire to any purpose. The two. machines were fairly close, and it was a' matter of life and death. yOne . could not help marvelling at thei ' con- ; trasts in the British character, as one watohed the man-who had lessened by one - German's hideous aircraft, dreamily playing -Chopin's tenderest,' nocturnes.'His coming had been prefaced by the most interesting mementoes—a piece of the linen wing of the German machine, with the black eagle on it, and Its iron and silver badges. He also, brought back the cylinder of his own ■ engine, with the bnlletrhole in it. Thero Were eight cylinders'iu his machine, : and though this one was put. out of action, he managed to descend safely with the, other seven." Among , the quaint stories he told of .flying men was that of the fight that took place between the two men of a German airship that had descended in-the French lines. They had no; sooner extricated themselves than they set to . with vigour, and it was some time before the ; amused Frenchmen understood that aacli blamed the other. When:a'flying man feels hungry he doscends in some grounds, and the interested and excit- ■ od owner gives, him of his best. Once, when an instructor in, his plane was being followed by several of his advanced pupils, each guiding their own machines, something went wrong witli his" engine, and - he' vra s forced to descend in a backyard. His pupils, playing follow my leador, promptly descend-' cd" too. and the result was a; chaotic, pile -of aeroplane's, and considerable damage .and very vigorous '■ remon-- ' stmnces from the instructor. The manwho had destroyed the Zeppelin; had been ordered homo to teach, and'.regarded his new billet with some apprehension, it being much more dangerous than oven chasing enemy aircraft,, ospeoially when the pupil thinks , he laiows a little and is eager,to,put his knowledge into practice.

The Lady's Mile. Though, conditions aro mucli altered, still Sunday from 12 to 2. finds the walkunder the trees near Hj'do Park corner quite crowded. There aro fewer riders than usual, and to toll the truth ; numbers of those are poor .equestrians, but now and again one sees acharmmg <rirl. perfectly turned out, and with a fine mount she lidos well.. There aro many side-saddles still used, thpneli the young:girls, of course, are mounted en cavalier, and one hears the tendency now is Tfcvertuic ■ "fco tho .old mode. The children on the. ponius are delightful; Khaki is worn by the men who ridb, and every second man afoot wears uniform. Passing along, one hears almost as much French as English and one catches scraps of talk that always is of war. Sad, yet marvellously cheery themselves, are the maimed soldiers, spleudid men on crutches, or with empty sleeves, never alone, these heroes, but always with one or more pretty girls or genial chums. A lonely soldier there would not be solitary eoon, for the .elder men will always strike up a conversation,' quite' jndertnmlrjit. of introduction. Sometimes on officer in a bath-chair is wheeled alonf with a knot of friends and relatives" and often a fine motor or a. grand, carriage whirls by filled 1 with wounded soldiers. I .saw such a carnage the otlier day, crowded with , beaming i\ew Zealand 1 wounded, _in their blue flannel suits and red ties, while their hostess who must have heen a duchess, for she was dressed so liadly, sat on the little seat with her hacl< to the horsos, anxious but proud. For our hoys aro consorting with the nob&ty nowadays, 'and bear themselves with such courtesy aiid- modesty in all circumstances that ,onc is proud of them. They have .won polden opinions for their chcer and courage, and it is most gratifying to liston\to iJi^jwaises-nurM.^MKlt

doctors. And, after all, a. Now Zealander or Australian, who very likely has been accustomed' to laving money, if not to burn, at any rate to spend, finds hospital restrictions which prevent his having any cash, terribly irksome. But their good sense generally shows them' how necessary, is such a regulation. Tliey a-ro being splendidly looked after.: The latest venture for oversea" soldiers—Peel House—is doing magnificent work, There, for a small amount, any colonial soldier is fed, Loused, and amused. Even now —though their business is not so prosperous—there are harpies in London to whom a colonial soldier, fresh from hospital, weak and probably with moiiey, may fall an easy pro.v. But the polico take a paternal care over all our boys, and if tliey find one lost or in doubtful company, come to tlio rescue, and take him to Peel House. Mrs. Moncrieff, Lady lan Hamilton's sister, and the Hon. Mrs. Graham Murray, ■ Lord Dunedin's daughter-in-law, 'initiated the scheme, and are constantly at work there.

Tho Dug-out; This is the picturesque name given by an appreciative sergeant to a- club for New Zealand soldiers started this week in'lojidon. There are already various; clubs, but none in Victoria ;Streot, near our High Commissioner's office, and whore the men gather continually. Indeed, up the steps hy the New Zealand office there is ever a stream of khaki, men in iieed of many things which the extraordinary devotion, tact, andi sympathy of the High Commissioner and, his stafE supply them with. -It may be where .tp stay or some fatherly advice or guidance —they get it ing- an-afternoon's leave from hospital although on furlough, and many having an, afternoon's leave from haspital, find their way there, and to them this new venture is . intensely acceptable. The Dug-out is down in the basement, with really no-connection in any way with the-High, Commissioner's office. Nor is it under its jurisdiction. Its expense is generously borne by Mrs. T. C. Williams and her family, who already since the 'beginning of the war have been working hard and giving liberally for our soldiers. There is no committee, no president,,no red tape, and those connected with it and paying for it are,- besides Mrs. Williams, Mrs.| Arthur Russell, Mrs. Burge, Mrs. Vert.non Reed-, Mrs. Warren, Mrs. Hoare, Miss Hilda Williams, 'Miss Evelyn AVillianis, and Mr. W. T. Williams. The room taken is very long—its length accentuated by an immense mirror at one end —and was' at .one time used as a fencing school. But, entering_ from> the muddy misery of a wretchod winter day, it was cheer and comfort personified. While wicker chairs, with red cushions, were set round fascinating little black and white tiled tea-tables, a, huge Chesterfield asked for ail invalid or two, a .writing-table, flowers, magazines, and delicious tea and cakes, comprised attractions that the men sooa found irresistible. It is. warm, well lit, and will, one feels certain, prove a haven of rest and comfort, hot only for tho weary invalid, but for the soldier on furlough who might find solace in far less innocent a place. Attached' to the big room are several smaller ones, a little room where men may leave .their kit, a sitting room for. the helpers,. who are all voluntary, and a kitchen, presided over by Miss Evelyn Williams, who will bako most of tho cakes. In tho. hall, Mr. Donne lias decorated the walls with pictures "of New Zealand, and some fine deer heads, -and on stands were a number of. exquisite flowering-pot plants. To prevent the men thinking it a, charity, a tiny charge:is made of twopence for tea in the afternoon and the same for hot soup between eloven and twelve. .The men are tremendously appreciative and enthusiastic, and the first afternoon, after tea was enjoyed, SergeantMajor Eovev of Auckland, made a charming little .speech of-thank?, which was followed by lusty cheers and the . singing, in Maori, of "She's a Jolly Good Fellow." The dug-out is not only a tearoom, it is a meeting-place where our boys:can talk and make acquaintances and renew friendships.At one . table two men found they came from ;the same street in Christchurch, and ohummed up tremendously. Tlio life of the afternoon was a Sergt. Nicholl, an Auckland boy, who had lost his . right arm, but. who was most cheery and help■ful, ,aiid evidently tremendously popular. - It' is. certain this club will fill a ; - want, and people in New Zealand should be happy to know what generous and practical sympathy is being shown, to .their brave hoys.