THE WORLD STORM.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LVII, Issue 113, 6 October 1914, Page 6

THE WORLD STORM.

SCENES IN BELGIUM. GRIM REALITIES OF WAR. Dr E. J. Dillon, the special correspondent of the London Daily Telegraph, imnishes the following graphic narrative, dated from Brussels on August 13:— From the placid backwater of Brussels one can note at leisure ominous foretokens of the wold-storm which will shortly burst over peace-loving Belgium. For there is no doubt that now, as 108 years ago, the arena in which the clash of nations will be the fiercest is tae vast plain where alone the mighty armies of latter-day Kurope can be freely deployed, and where Napoleon's career was ended. Day by day, hour by hour, we watch the transport of the materials out of which the gigantic walls of steel and men and death-dealing weapons are being hurriedly constructed. Brussels is herself again. The delirious excitement whicli during the first days of mobilisation displayed itself in acts of frenzy has subsided. The inhabitants have adjusted themselves to the wearisome suspense and unpleasant surprises of a state of war. Shops that were shuttered a few days ago are open and doing a brisk business onee more. The cafes are thronged inside and out. The boulevards are bright with streams of many-colored humanity. The news-

papers', which dish up the same stories day after da".- « rc ' grabbed at by citizens eager to obtain *be first news of the mi.itary movements. LIFE IN THE CITY.

The only striking differences one discerns between this and normal t'.ncs affect the lives of \\-~ wV.Ma-do classes. All the theatres, cinematographs and other places of amusement aro closed. Some of the prinfipal hotels are turned into temporary hospitals. Public conveyances, whether cabs or taxis, can hardly be said to exist. Certain sorts of food which were formerly exported, such as peaches, grapes, ami chickens, have hardly any market, and arc being so'd at half prices. Flowers are withering on their stalks for lack of buyers. Artisans, such as electricians and plumbers, have vanished.

But, notwithstanding these changes, the links with the cheerful line of a month ago have not yet been severed. The people of Brussels are still blithesome and self confident buoyed up bvi 'the sense of security imparted by the heroic conduct of their defenders and the consciousness of a right cause. As yet the unquiet temper of war which may spread after the first great battle nowhere manifests itself. And yet maimed warriors, homeloss families, destitute women, orphaned children, claim and receive attention, and remind one all too suggestively of the "Harvest im misery yet to be garnered in. None the less, the painter who should transfer the present sceno3 of Brussels life would find it difficult to awaken an impression of a state of war.

REALITIES OF WAR. And yet a couple of hours' drive out of the town takes one to a world of grim realities and sinister contrasts. Over the country between Tirlemont and St. Trend, but yesterday iull of tame beauty, rich in cornfields and carefully tended gardens, the withering breath of this ruthless Moloch has already fitfully passed. As you move along the duty road, catching a glimpse of an occasional farmhouse quivering in the intense heat of the August day, you feel beset by the vague dangers that may at any moment start into concrete shape and end your hopes and cares for all time. (Approaching the village of Orsmacl unmislakeable tokens of desolation thrust themselves on your view. At first shattered panes of glass, then domestic 'utensils flung among the cabbages of the gardens or before the wrenched doors, greybeards with shrivelled faces moaning under the trees, women trembling and wailing plaintively, and still beholding as a mirage the scenes of horror which upset their mental balance. Here a couple of children prattling in subdued tones, there a mother leading three orphaned little girls from the still smoking ruins of their house into the wide world, and everywhere the loathsome soilure and squalor of war.

INHUMAN HATE. Inhuman hate appears to possess these Prussian invaders, whom terror drives and terror alone can curb. Belgians who have dealt with-them at close quarters, as at Dormael, declare that these Uhlans fought with the bitterness of personal fury, and not contented with killing those who manfully resisted them in fight, assassinated numbers who had laid down their weapons and held their hands up. Many of the corpses have their hands raised and their elbows on a level with the shoulders. The wounds of these brave defenders are horrible, having been inflicted with weapons fired at a couple of inches from the mouth or breast.

Some Uhlans met a Belgian chemist who was riding a bicycle near Jodoigne. Arresting him, they inquired their way to the town hall, placing the muzzles of revolvers to his head while they listened. He gave them the required information and was allowed to pass on, but before he had gone ten yards they sent three bullets into his back, and nonhe lies mortally wounded in his home.