"MY COUNTRY NEEDS ME."

Pukekohe & Waiuku Times, Volume 5, Issue 185, 23 June 1916, Page 3 (Supplement)

"MY COUNTRY NEEDS ME."

HOW WOMEN APE FIH3TING MILITARISM. By BEATRICE HAKKAT.EN. It was the little companion who led •off the procession from the great house. She came into Mrs. England's boudoir in the same Quiet subdued manner accepted generally as the. indispensable attribute of a professional companion. And yet not the same either. For tUere was a touch of dignity in her bearing, faint, but definite, and entirely unaggressive. "I same to say that I am leaving to-morrow," she said. Mrs. England put up her lot grottos and gazed at the speaker. She was so astonished that :he could not at first find strength to utter a ; ngle word. At last she said stonily: " You cannot, and you shall not. That settles the matter." "It does not at all settle the matter," the companion answered quietly. "I must go —and at once. lam going to a munition factory to-morrow. My country wants me." There was a thrill in the girl's voice and a light in her eyes. The lorgnettes dropped from the woman s grasp, and for a long time after the companion had left the room Mrs. England leaned back in her chair thinking. * * * The next day Alice Somers prssed out from that peaceful prison house into the war zone of active work for her country, and found her appointed place in a great cordite factory. And what were the words she had spoken when she finally left in that quiet way of hers, and yet so changed, so charged with purposeful intensity? "I go to fight militarism," she had said, "tyranny in the world —yes, and in the home." That was all. A passing shaft husbanded for months perhaps, and now released inadvertently. But it had the effect of an cighteen-pounder on Mrs. England. Mrs. England tried to forget her, but she couldn't. Where had she gone? One heard in all directions of women going off to do munition work, and she saw appeals in the papers tor money to construct huts and canteens for the workers. And one morning she saw this: Women's War Time Fund of the Young Women's Christian Association. Temperance Canteens Best Booms, Clubs and Hostels ere needed In some places three girls share a bed every twenty-four hours in turns, eight hours each. Wages are not so high as is generally supposed Conditions which are emergency conditions leave much to be desired. Upon the vitality of the women workers depends the output cf shells, and upon that the success ot our arms. Send what you can, but send it now to Miss Victon-iurbei -rill, 26, George-street, Hanover-square. Sho sent off a small cheque then rind there, and tried to persuade herself that she had done her dity, and had the right to dismiss the whole worrying matter from her mind. But she couldn't. It haunted her more than ever. In her very drcsms she saw the words of that appeal dancing before her eyes, and she woke up one morning saying aloud, "The vitality of the w. nen workers —the vitality ot. ."

That decided Mrs. England. She determined to go and see the conditions for herself. Before a fortnight nad elapsed Mrs. England had seen unforgettable soenes in the .Midlands and elsewhere.

Forests of marvellous machinery, forests of young girls' heads, a deafening onslaught of iron, warfare at homo—and the warriors—women of all classes and conditions and many varying ages, but chiefly young. No question now of not being wanted —no question now of closed doors, insuperable hindrances —all wanted and always more wanted to manage those amazing machines which drill and grind and mill and bore and press and turn and met and rip—machines mystic and magical in detail, awful and obvious in result.

And hark —there's the dinner hour sounding, and an avalanche ..f women workers is swept along to the canteen run by the Young Women's Christian Association. Good food and warmth and willing, devoted service frcm the faithful band of voluntary helpers, and chairs with backs, and flowers here and there, and pretty decorations on the walls, gracious details to ease the tension of brain and body, and in that corner yonder a bavcu for passing peace and recuperation, and a piano, too, for dance and fun.

{something tugged at Mrs. England's Keart. She thought ot the contrast U'twcen the grim engines of destruction and the gay young creatures controlling them. " And are there canteens and rpstrooms like this one everywhere?" she »isk<xl. "There ougbt to be. it's the lease we can do lor these girls. 'J.'ho vet**' liiait."

"There are only a few so far. site was told. ''There's not enough money, you know." "Then we ought to be ashamed of ourselves,'' she said in h low voice charged with feeling.

And this was what she felt increasingly when she visited another munition factory, where she came to a canteen of uninviting aspect. No space here, no comfort, no rest-room, nothing whatsoever to give encouragement of body or spirit to the gallant company of women warriors; nothing to restore their vitality or stir their feet to merry measure; nothing except bare food served out at the counter in a tightly-packed procession, and eaten in tightly-packed benches at grimy tables. And her thoughts turned to that other ■ieene of brightness and kindness and practical common sense. "Thi- isn't even good business, she wiid, "even ii there were no other considerations." She ended with vTtii the cordite factory in the heart of a green marsh land. Danger land this, and yet io quiet and innocent of aspect. No deafening noise of machinery. Xo outward and visible sign of dire destruetive-n.'-s. Xo vast shed-. \o forests ot i-ngines and girls' faces. Instead, peaceful and poetic and isolated huts. and warrior maidens in scarlet and khaki handling homely-looking dou-h and macaroni with an airy and easy nonchalance which almost convinced one that the material they were manipulating was as harmless as it appeared to be, instead of a dangerous high explosive in its different phase., ot preparation. * * * And the little companion? Net a sifzn of her. Ah. well, perhaps she ivasn't m this particular factory, alter all. So on, then, to the colonv on the bill t-v■• :, IK- a"-ay, the '■ ill i '• of huts |,nn id«-,j •'■!• b. fli- ;.-( nop",- ;ind sen- ► ilec :..' lion ti; u,, and p ' up and imm.igi.: ■;. t'-*'' "ing Woiih-u'.s Chris, tian A-" i'aiion. • How- of two tote., d I '.ts roomy little ■ ;i, , !,..,. a larec r'-t-r- ation and re.-t-room, a hii£*c • hen. i. ehc rful In t'i ■ kapel, and a hospital, small, but entirely feriCG and compact, with its garden r.l crocuses ail':! peeping promises of "erect

spring flowers. Would Mrs. E.'/.and like to see the ward ? She followed the matron into the pretty little white ward, and stood by the bedside of a girl who ;iad had a fall and broken her ankle. \id mere was another patient in the optns'te corner. Was she very ill? Veil, she had had a shock* and n« left hand had been slightly injured. There had been an accident —a rare and yet possible contingency: the cordite had become ignited and one of the girls had had her hand blown off. But this worker would soon be well again, and her very eagerness to return to her post was hastening on her recovery. "They are all wonderful," the matron said with affectionate pride; "all eager and intensely patriotic, but this little one particularly so. Wouldn't you go and speak to het PShe'd be awfully pleased, you know.' Mrs. England went to the bed in the corner, and the girl turned her face round to see who had come to visit her. It was the little companion herself.

"My child, my child," murmured Mrs. England bending over the bed with a newborn kindnessin her voice and her manner. "How*- sorry lam that you are ill." No stony stare through the lorgnettes now, no lingering trace now of militarism in the home, but just that respectful half-wondering tenderness of concern invariably offered up as attribute at the bedside of a wounded warrior. And the little companion knew the changed attitude, and, like all generous spirits, was ready enough to meet and greet it. "1 shall soon be quite well," she said. "I'm bound to be. You see, my country needs me. And isn't 't splendid here? Isn't the colony just splendid, Are all these places like this? Ido hope they are." "No, but they ought to be," Mrs. England said with sudden passion. "And I for one shall never lest untl they arc. It's the very least we can do for our women warriors." * * #

Then back to her home went Mrs. Eng'and, and sent, in renewed answer to the appeal of the Young Christian Association, in tribute to the fine, upspringing service, which she had seen for herself, a princely sum, which fairly bowled over ' er brother, her executor, and almost" herself, not to ease her conscience this time, but to have the joy of taking her part, of standing side by side, spiritually at least, because not able physically, with the women working in the cordite huts and amongst those forests of amazing machines,"which drill and grind and mill and bore and press and turn and rivet and rip, urged on to their utmost capacity by a faithful persistence and an untiring industry, hitherto unknown in the annals of factory land. Homage, then, to the women munition workers, and shame en us, a thousand times shames, if we neglect to help towards their welfare and wellbeing with a princely generosity proportionate to our possibilities, and not for the poor sake of casing our consciences, but for the proud sake of taking pur part.