giving life in order to take life. The Lord had fashioned them in the
same pattern on both sides of the wall. Their children were born in the
same way; they bled from wounds in the same way--but why go on in
this vicious circle of thought?

My impressions of Germany were brief, and the clearer perhaps for
being brief, and drawn on the fresh background of Paris and Calais
waiting to know their fate; of England staring across the Channel, in a
suspense which her stoicism would not confess, to learn the result of
the battle for the Channel ports; of England and France straining with
all their strength to hold, while the Germans exerted all theirs to gain,
a goal; of Holland, stolid mistress of her neutrality, fearing for it and
profiting by it while she took in the Belgian foundlings dropped on her
steps--Holland, that little land at peace, with the storms lashing
around her.

The stiff and soldierly-appearing reserve officer with bristling
Kaiserian moustache, so professedly alert and efficient, who looked
at the mottled back of my passport and frowned at the recent visa, "A
la Place de Calais, bon pour aller à Dunkerque, P.O. Le Chef d'Etat-
Major," but let me by without questions or fuss, aroused visions of a
frontier stone wall studded with bayonets.

For something about him expressed a certain character of downright
militancy lacking in either an English or a French guard. I could
imagine his contempt for both and particularly for a "sloppy,
undisciplined" American guard, as he would have called one of ours.
Personal feelings did not enter into his thoughts. He had none; only
national feelings, this outpost of the national organism. The mood of
the moment was friendliness to Americans. Germany wished to