THE WARRIOR OF THE FUTURE

Hokitika Guardian, 22 August 1929, Page 8

THE WARRIOR OF THE FUTURE

(By Edith Scarle Grossmann, M.A.) (Auckland Star.) It is perhaps too much to expect that our age has seen the last of orf4nnised warfare in IC!uro>pc. Blit since America has refused to exclude the use of gas shells it seems evident tliut the battlefield and ever the “battle array’’ of the future will be robbed of the glamour it has had in the past. Even had the League of Nations barred the use of gas, it is very doubtful whether a losing belligerent would have troubled to look up the rules of the game in an emergency. The American review “Current History” stated fairly the reason for the United States refusing to exclude the use of gas shells, which', in 'brief, is that it is no more unpleasant-j-it is, in' fact, rather more agreeable—to be gassed than to ibe carved or blown to pieces. We understand, however, that it is a less picluresque process and the prospect of it fails to kindle the same enthusiasm in the hearts of the young and ardent. Colonel Soanimell, the United States officer who writes on this subject, says: “What we may'expect, is the capture of masses of weeping, sneezing and puking soldiers, helpless and ridiculous, figures far from meet candidates of the Distinguished iScvvioe Cross. And such pathetic creatures may be restored to health in ten minutes by minute dose's (of chlorine) such as.are given, for colds.”

Tho use of poison gas on an extensive scale is declared to be impossible. The gases likely to bo used are mustard gas. sneeze gas and tear gas. An interesting picture is given .of the warrior and war steed of the future equipped for the fray, a ghoulish figure on a hobgoblin steed, each sheeted jn a ghost-like sheet with slits and with capacious nose bag rather like those now given to horses to feed from during the journey. The romantic ladies who' (in ballads at legst) wander over battlefields to seek their loves will in those days be hardly., such fitting subjects for drawing room Jays. The “Clara” of the future,, instead of trying to staunch Marmion’s gushing wounds, will first provide the victim with a handkerchief and then promptly administer some such remedy as, say, a cough cure, wonder woo], or lung preserver. Patriotic leagues will send to the front unlimited supplies of handker-, chiefs, Guy Fawkes masks and nose, hags. A battlefield will have a distinct resemblance to a fifth of November night on Hampstead Heatn. No doubt oven a weeping, sneezing, staggering champion may be a hero. We can., imagine .some Colonel A.tkyns (in his Guy Fawkes mask and all) dashing through the black smqke and at the head of his men capturing all of the enemy’s mustard, tears and smoke before the shells have had time to explode. Another blow to the prestige and fascination of “glorious war!” We\ can hardly picture it as it was n Utile over a hundred years, ago, when “Jeannette” bade farewell to Jean not and lamented in jealous fear: “When you wear, the jacket red and the beautiful cockade, I fear you will soon forget the promises you made.” And Byron exclaimed in the person of Chi hie Harold: By heaven! it is a splendid sight to see— For on,e who hath no friend nor brother there— 1 Their rival scarfs of mixed embroxl- , } ery. Their various arms that glitter in the air. Three gaudy standards flout the pale blue sky, The shouts are “France!” “Spain!” “Albion!” “Victory!’’

Even before the mustard and tears are launched, the spectators (if any) will see no more scarlet-clad heroes, but a ghostly army of Guy Fawkes and hobgoblins clad in “invisible” misty grey green and wearing masks and nose bags. And yet was the former warrior in truth always a magnificent object? Certainly he was not in the Dark Ages. What he actually must have looked like you can realise by examining the complete suits of armour in the Tower of London and similar collections. With practically no sign of a human face he advanced in scaly iron or steel, a metal vizior, a metal peak for a nose and scales of sheet iron hiding his form, and on the whole resembling nothing earthly so much as a gigantic beetle bred of an indigestion nightmare. Peace-loving America, better stocked with chemicals than other nations (and . possibly a member of a mustard club) ardently believes that mustard gas and '.ear gas may complete the work of the .League of Nations and rob war of half its vices by making it look supremely ridiculous.