Chukovsky, the subtle critic,
calling in upon me after braving the wintry seas to see the British
fleet; M. Joseph Reinach follows them presently upon the same errand;
and then appear photographs of Mr. Arnold Bennett wading in the trenches
of Flanders, Mr. Noyes becomes discreetly indiscreet about what he has
seen among the submarines, and Mr. Hugh Walpole catches things from Mr.
Stephen Graham in the Dark Forest of Russia. All this is quite over and
above such writing of facts at first hand as Mr. Patrick McGill and a
dozen other real experiencing soldiers--not to mention the soldiers'
letters Mr. James Milne has collected, or the unforgettable and
immortal _Prisoner of War_ of Mr. Arthur Green--or such admirable war
correspondents' work as Mr. Philip Gibbs or Mr. Washburne has done. Some
of us writers--I can answer for one--have made our Tour of the Fronts
with a very understandable diffidence. For my own part I did not want
to go. I evaded a suggestion that I should go in 1915. I travel badly,
I speak French and Italian with incredible atrocity, and am an extreme
Pacifist. I hate soldiering. And also I did not want to write anything
"under instruction". It is largely owing to a certain stiffness in the
composition of General Delme-Radcliffe is resolved that Italy shall not
feel neglected by the refusal of the invitation from the Comando
Supremo by anyone who from the perspective of Italy may seem to be a
representative of British opinion.
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