AN “AFTERWARDS” PROBLEM.

Hokitika Guardian, 26 September 1918, Page 1

AN “AFTERWARDS” PROBLEM.

(By Charles Procter.)

He lias been serving since the very beginning, as the one red and three bine chevi’ons on his sleeve show; he wears the three stars of a captain, expects soon to be promoted major, and on his breast is the white and purple ribbon of the Military Cross.

“Of course, there may not be any ‘afterwards’ for me,” he remarked thoughtfully. “ Old Fritz may settle me before the end of the war, in which case the ‘ afterwards ’ is one I can better discuss with the padre.” We were talking* about an article which recently appeared in The Daily Mail, in which the writer told of the plans made by men who had decided what they were going to do when the war is over.

“Leaving that possibility out, of count, however,” continued the captain, “ what am I going to do after the war ? There must be hundreds of men like me, men whose whole outlook on life has been changed by the war, men who have become accustomed to giving orders instead of taking them, and to whom the thought of resuming their pre-war existence is impossible. “Take niy own case, which is typical of many. I am 26, and before the Avar J was a clerk in a shipping office. I must have been quite a good clerk, I suppose, for I received £2 a week—not a bad salary for a youngster of two-and-twenty. “ But I was just a clerk, one of the young bloods who came up in the 8.40 from the suburbs, and Avent home by tbe 6.10 in the evening, posed as men of the world, and thought the chief clerk, who got .£2OO a. year, a very lucky felloAV. Do you think I can go back to that life after four years of war ? I got my commission in 1915, got my companj’ 18 months ago, and took command of my battalion at B for a time when the colonel and the major AA’ere knocked out. For three years I have been mixing Avith men avlio have big incomes as well as with others in something of the same position as myself, working and living with men accustomed to command and to lead. That alters one’s point of vieAv, you know, and I shall neA'er bo able lo go back to a clerk’s stool.

“ Yet I have avi t enough to recognise that, apart from soldiering, the clerk’s job is the only one I know. A lot of men are talking of going to the Dominions, fanning, ranching, and so forth, but they forget that they—like me— don’t know the first thing about farming or ranching. Capital is necessary in those countries, just as it is iu England, and the capital of most of the men in my position av ill consist solely of the hundred or two we shall receive as a gratuity—and that won’t go very far in Canada, Australia, or Soutli Africa.

“ I should prefer to make a career of the Army, but so Avould thousands of other temporary officers, and it won’t be possible for the War Office to keep us all. Many of us, as a result of our Army experience, would be able to take positions as works managers or as supervisors of large staff's of men, but I doubt very much if there Avill be enough jobs of that kind lo go round.

“No, I’m hanged if I know what lam going to do afterwards. I know it Avill sour afid sicken many an officer if, afler having given the best years of his life to his country—the years when he should have been making a position for himself—he has eventually to go back to his old subordinate position and the clerk’s stool. . . . The thought cf it is

almost enough to make one hope that in the meantime a Boclie shell will send one to that other ‘ afterwards ’! ” What are Ave going to do Avith our officers after the war ?