GERMAN WAR BOOK

Hauraki Plains Gazette, Volume XXXX, Issue 5445, 8 July 1929, Page 4

GERMAN WAR BOOK

BANNED BY LIBRARIES. REVIEW BY ENGLISHMAN. The following is a short review by ex-Private Jim Simmons, in the “New Leader,” of “All Quiet on the Western Front,” by the German ex-service-man, Erich Maria Remarque. This is the book that has aroused so much discussion throughout the Dominion at the moment. It has been banned by the Auckland, Wellington, and various South Island public libraries on account of its alleged coarseness of language. However, be that as it may, it is a book the reading of which will by its very stark nakedness of truth help to end war. Too much in war has been glossed over and glorified : in Remarque’s book one is given a little of the awful and gruesome other side—and that side the truth : The ex-scldier who wants to forget should not open this book. If time has mercifully dimmed bitter memories, this record will certainly revive them. It describes life on the other side of “No Man’s Land.” It might well have been written by an Englishman describing life on our side. As I sat alone into the small hours of the morning residing, thinking, reading again, this gripping narrative, a passage, here, an incident there, brought countless memories flooding back to my mind, even after eleven years. Stark Realism. Nothing is glossed over, all is stark realism. The talk of soldiers in the language of soldiers—no dashes to represent words that might offend the fastidious minds of the uninitiated. Minute descriptions of life in the trenches and in hospital, all written in a brutal, one might almost say gross, manner. But it is true, not merely of the German, but of all sides of war. Quotations cannot do justice to this, the greatest of all war books. Still, I will try to convey an idea of its realism. Second Company returns after suffering heavy casualties in the line The company commander calls 4he number of the company; a mere handful respond. “And then, more softly: ‘Nobody else number two company ? . . . He is silent, and then, more huskily, he says, ‘ls that all ? . . . Number !’ The voices flutter out wearily . . . and cease at thirty-fwo. A long silence before the voice asks 'Anyone else ?’ . . . then, softly. Tn squads . . .’ and then breaks off and is only able to finish, ‘Second company’ with difficulty.” Paul and his comrades discuss the "Why ?” of war. “Almost all of us are simple folk, and in France, too, the majority of men are labourers, workmen, or poor clerks. Now just why should a French shoemaker oi- a French blacksmith want to attack us ? ... I had never seen a Frenchman before I came here, and it will be the same with the majority of Frenchmen with us. They weren’t asked about it any more than we were.’ Sure Way to Peace I How often we British Tommies talked of the methods we would adopt to stop or prevent wav! Here we find “Fritz” at the same game. Katezinsky, the old soldier' of the group, -ays ; “Give ’em all the same grub and all the same pay And the war would be over and done in a day.” Kropp, however, proposes : “A kind of popular festival with entrance tickets and bands, like a bull fight. Then in the arena the ministers and generals, dressed in bathing drawers and armed with clubs can have it out among themselves. Whoever sur vives, his country wins.” Thoughts while guarding Russian prisoners bring one right up against the silliness of rear again. Paul is thinking to himself: “It is strange to see these enemies of ours so close up. They have faces that make one think—honest, pleasant faces. They look just as kindly as our own peasants. A word of command has made these silent figures our enemies ; a word of command may transform them into our friends. “I am frightened ; I dare think this way no more.” There is one particularly terrible chapter telling how Paul and two of his comrades, sent out to reconnoitre in “No Man’s Land,” lose contact. Paul is caught in an enemy attack and finds shelter in a shell-hole. One of the attacking Frenchmen drops into the same hole, and Paul in a frenzy of fear stabs him. To understand the wild madness of it one must read the whole chapter. How Paul strives to save the life of the enemy, watches him die, lingering painfully long ; and eventually left alone with the corpse, speaks to it: “Comrade, I did not want to kill you. If you jumped in here again I

would not do it, if you would be sensible too. But you were only an idea to me before, an abstraction that Jived in my mind and called the appropriate response. I thought of your hand grenade, of your bayonet, of your rifle. Now I see your wife and your face and our efllowship. Forgive me, comrade ! We always see it too late.” Purifying Fire. Those who said that war would be “a refining ad purifying fire cleansing the soul of a nation” should be compelled to read this book. It tells of a “generation of men who, even though they may have escaped its shells, were destroyed by the war.” As I lay the book aside pain stabs the heart. Almost forgotten horrors again torture the brain. But it is right that it should be so. We, whose bodies are marked, whose souls were seared by war—even we must not be allowed to forget. We owe it to “those who never came back,” who died to end war. We owe it to the generation that is with us, “a generation that knew not war,” to remember so that we may more effectively fight against a repetition of the horror we knew.”