"NO FURTHER DEVELOPMENTS..."

New Zealand Listener, Volume 1, Issue 21, 17 November 1939, Page 15

"NO FURTHER DEVELOPMENTS..."

By

W. J.

Hay

‘¢"F T’S a funny war, this. Nothing ever happens." We hear it everywhere. We say it ourselves, even those of us who hate wars. We crouch over our radios for every possible News Bulletin, shut them off petulantly after the first few items. "Nothing new." We grab up the newspaper, scan the headlines, toss it aside with evident disgust. "Same old stuff!" "It gets on your nerves," someone says. "Why don’t they do something?" We want news; but there is no news. The description of the sinking of a U-boat fills us with momentary delight. Something has happened. A step towards victory? Maybe. We _ conveniently shut our minds and our imaginations to the significance of the oil floating on the sea, the bubbles rising to the surface. There has been action, and the fact that sixty or seventy human beings have sunk to a horrible death does not bear contemplation. We ignore it. Some enemy planes are shot down. Fine. Our men are superior. A few more Germans have been sent to their eternal sleep, and our craving for news has been satisfied -for the moment. What's Wrong With Us? But then Daventry reports, "There have been no major developments since our last News Bulletin," and we are disappointed and disgusted. For days nothing happens. Even the sinking of one of our own battleships comes almost as a relief. Hundreds of fine young British sailors have gone down to Davy Jones’s locker. It is depressing (if we think of that), a setback to our hopes of victory, but "C’est la guerre." And at least something has happened. What is wrong with us all? Aren’t we all mad? Shouldn’t we be elated when Daventry has nothing further to report? Shouldn’t we feel satisfaction when the newspapers are dull, when "all is quiet on the Western Front"? Hell’s Carnage The news we are consciously and unconsciously craving for is

something grim, inhuman, murfderous. Do we went to hear that London, Berlin, Paris, have been bombed and thousands of men, women and children killed, maimed and gassed? Apparently we do. Do we want to hear of naval and air engagements in which men are sent to frightful deaths? Clearly we seem to. Do we want Daventry to announce that hell’s carnage has broken out on the Western front, that the miles between the Maginot and Siegfried lines are strewn with dead, dying and mutilated bodies? Obviously we do, since we are so eager for news, so bitterly ironical when there is none. Craving for Sensation The animal in all of us is still close to the surface. Despite our "civilisation," our streaks of cruelty and insensitiveness are still active within us. Our imaginations and sympathies are not so strong but that they can be easily swamped by our love of sensation. Too often we regard the war as a glorified, real-life radio thriller, put on to satisfy our innate lusts for excitement and gory action. Can’t we surmount this and remain civilised? Can’t we be thankful when Daventry reports, "...no further developments . . ."? For, when there is no news, it at least means a postponement of the madness we are so hopefully dreading. : No News is Good News Every day, every week, before the full frightfulness begins is a day, a week, nearer to peace. So long as the real horror has not started, anything might happen in the meantime to prevent it. Hitler might throw a fatal heart attack or become fully certifiable. The Germans might revolt. Russia might turn another somersault, this time in our favour. At any rate, the longer nothing happens at the war, the earlier something might happen-for peace. It may be a slender hope but it should be enough to curb our impatience and make us remember that the more we hear "... no further developments," the more lives are spared, and perhaps the nearer comes the day when Daventry will report, "An Armistice has been declared." But perhaps even that would disap. point us-some of us, It is a sad thought,