Part 19 (1/2)
”I was rather more than half an hour with them. Sir Edward took me downstairs, said it was 'good of me' to be willing to undertake it, and I went off feeling the die was cast.”
A luncheon with Mr. Lloyd George--then Minister of Munitions--who gladly offered her every possible facility for seeing the great munition-centres that had by that time altered the face of England, and the plan for carrying out her task began to shape itself in her mind. A tour of ten days or so through the princ.i.p.al munition-works, ranging from Birmingham to the Clyde, then a dash to the Fleet, lying in the Firth of Cromarty, then south once more and across the Straits to see the ”back of the Army” in France. It may be imagined what busy co-ordination of arrangements was necessary between the Ministry of Munitions, the Admiralty and the War Office, before all the details of the tour were settled, but by the aid of ”Wellington House” all was hustled through in a short time, so that Mrs. Ward was off on her round of the great towns by January 31. To her, of course, the human interest of the scene was the all-important thing--the spectacle of the mixture of cla.s.ses in the vast factories, the high-school mistresses, the parsons, the tailors' and drapers' a.s.sistants handling their machines as lovingly as the born engineers--the enormous sheds-full of women and girls of many diverse types working together with one common impulse, and protesting against the cutting down of their twelve hours' day! She was taken everywhere and shown everything (accompanied this time by Miss Churcher), seeing in the s.p.a.ce of ten days the munition-works at Birmingham, Leeds, Sheffield, Darlington, Middlesbrough, Newcastle and the Clyde. Then she returned home for a few days, to fix her impressions in an ordered ma.s.s of notes, before leaving again on February 15 for the far north, armed with an Admiralty permit and an invitation from Sir John Jellicoe to spend a couple of nights in his house at Invergordon.
It was, of course, an unheard-of thing for a woman to visit the Fleet in war-time, but, once the barriers pa.s.sed, the sailors were so glad to see her! Withdrawn from the common life in their iron, sleepless world, they welcomed this break in their routine as much as she did the chance it gave her of a wholly unique experience. She told the tale of her adventures both in a letter to Mr. Ward and in notes written down at the time:
”_February 16, 1916._
”Such a journey! Heavy snow-storm in the night, and we were held up for three hours on the highest part of the line between Kingussie and Aviemore. But at Invergordon a group of naval officers appeared. A great swell [Sir Thomas Jerram] detached himself and came up to me. 'Mrs. Ward? Sir John has asked me to look after you.' We twinkled at each other, both seeing the comedy of the situation. 'Now then, what can I do for you? Will you be at Invergordon pier to-morrow at eleven? and come and lunch with me on the Flags.h.i.+p? Then afterwards you shall see the destroyers come in and anything else we can show you. Will that suit you?' So he disappears and I journey on to Kildary, five miles, with a jolly young sailor just returned from catching contraband in the North Sea, and going up to Thurso in charge of the mail.”
She spent a quiet evening at Sir John Jellicoe's house (the Admiral himself being away). Her notes continue the story:
”Looked out into the snowy moonlight--the Frith steely grey--the hills opposite black and white--a pale sky--black shapes on the water--no lights except from a s.h.i.+p on the inlet (the hospital s.h.i.+p).
”Next day--an open car--bitterly cold--through the snow and wind.
At the pier--a young officer, Admiral Jerram's Flag Lieutenant.
'The Admiral wished to know if you would like him to take you round the Fleet. If so, we will pick him up at the Flags.h.i.+p.' The barge--very comfortable--with a cabin--and an outer seat--sped through the water. We stopped at the Flags.h.i.+p and the Admiral stepped in. We sped on past the _Erin_--one of the Turkish cruisers impounded at the beginning of the war--the _Iron Duke_, the _Centurion_, _Monarch_, _Thunderer_--to the hospital s.h.i.+p _China_.
The Admiral pointed out the three cruisers near the entrance to the harbour--under Sir Robert Arbuthnot--also the hull of the poor _Natal_--with buoys at either end--two men walking on her.
”At luncheon--Vice-Admiral Sir Thomas Jerram on my left, Sir Robert Arbuthnot, commanding the cruiser squadron, on my right. Captain Field and Mrs. Field. Commander Goldie--Flag Lieutenant Boissier, and a couple of other officers and their wives.
”In the barge I had shown the Admiral Roosevelt's letter. Sir Robert Arbuthnot spoke to me about it at luncheon, and very kindly.
They all seemed to feel that it was a tough task, not of my seeking, and showed wonderful sympathy and understanding. After lunch Captain Field was told off to show me the s.h.i.+p. Thrilling to see a s.h.i.+p in war-time, that might be in action any moment. The loading of the guns--the wireless rooms--the look down to the engine deck--the anchor held by the three great chains--the middies' quarters--the officers' ward-room. The brains of the s.h.i.+p--men trained to transmit signals from the fire-control above to all parts of the s.h.i.+p, directing the guns. The middies'
chests--great black and grey boxes--holding all a middy's worldly goods. He opens one--shows the photos inside.--The senior middy, a fair-haired boy, like Humphry Sandwith--the others younger. Their pleasant room, with its pictures, magazines and books. s.p.a.ces where the wounded can be temporarily placed during action.
”The chart of the North Sea, and the s.h.i.+p-stations. Lines radiating out in all directions--every dot on them a s.h.i.+p.
”After going through the s.h.i.+p we went to look at the destroyer which the Admiral had ordered alongside. Commanded by Mr.
Leveson-Gower, son of the Lord Granville who was Foreign Secretary, and nephew of 'Freddy.' The two torpedo tubes on the destroyer are moved to the side, so that we see how it discharges them. The guns very small--the whole s.h.i.+p, which carries 100 men, seems almost on the water-line--is constantly a-wash except for the cabin and the bridge. But on a dark night in the high seas, 'we are always so glad to see them!--they are the guards of the big s.h.i.+ps--or we are the hens, and they are the chickens.'
”Naval character--the close relations between officers and men necessitated by the s.h.i.+p's life. 'The men are splendid.' How good they are to the officers--'have a cup of coffee, sir, and lie down a bit.'--Splendidly healthy--in spite of the habitually broken sleep. Thursday afternoons (making and mending)--practically the naval half-holiday.
”Talk at tea with Captain and Mrs. Field and Boissier and Commander Goldie. They praise the book, _Naval Occasions_. No sentiment possible in the Navy--_in speech_. The life could not be endured often, unless it were _jested through_. Men meet and part with a laugh--absurdity of sentimental accounts. Life on a destroyer--these young fellows absolute masters--their talk when they come in--'By Jove, I nearly lost the s.h.i.+p last night--awful sea--I was right on the rocks.'--Their life is always in their hands.”
Writing a week later to ”Aunt Fan,” she added one further remark about the Captain of the s.h.i.+p--”so quietly full of care for his men--and so certain, one could see, that Germany would never actually give in without trying something desperate against our fleet.” Little more than three months later, Germany tried her desperate stroke, tried it and lost, but at what a cost to English sailormen! The n.o.ble officer who had sat next to Mrs. Ward at luncheon in the Admiral's flags.h.i.+p, Sir Robert Arbuthnot, went down with his battle-cruiser, while on either side of him occurred the losses which shook, for one terrible day, England's faith in her fleet. Mrs. Ward wrote on June 6 to Katharine Lyttelton:
”Yes, indeed, Sir Robert Arbuthnot's cruiser squadron was at Cromarty when I was there, and he sat next me at luncheon on the Flags.h.i.+p. I _particularly_ liked him--one of those modest, efficient naval men whose absolute courage and nerve, no less than their absolute humanity, one would trust in any emergency. I remember Sir Thomas Jerram, on my other side, saying in my ear--'The man to your right is one of the most rising men in the Navy.' And the line of cruisers in front of the Dreadnoughts, as I saw them in the February dawn, stretching towards the harbour entrance, will always remain with me.”
Meanwhile the preparations for her journey to France had been pushed forward by ”Wellington House,” so that only four days after her return from Invergordon all was ready for her departure for Le Havre. She went (this time with Dorothy) as the guest of the Foreign Office, recommended by them to the good offices of the Army. She was first to be given some idea of the vast organization of the Base at Le Havre, and then sent on by motor to Rouen, Abbeville, etaples and Boulogne. A programme representing almost every branch of the unending activities of the ”Back of the Army” had been worked out for her, but she was warned that she could not be allowed to enter the ”War Zone.” Once in France, however, it was not long before this prohibition broke down, though not through any importunity of hers.
The marvellous spectacle unrolled itself before her, quietly and methodically, while her guides expounded to her the meaning of what she saw and the bearing of every movement at the Base upon the lives of the men in the front line. General a.s.ser himself, commanding at Le Havre, devoted a whole afternoon to taking her through the docks and store-sheds of the port, ”so that one had a dim idea,” as she wrote to her husband, ”of the amazing organization that has sprung up here. It explains a good deal, too, of the five millions a day!” But as a matter of fact, the thing which impressed her most at Le Havre was the 'make-over department,' where all the rubbish brought down from the Front, from bully-beef tins to broken boots, was collected together and boiled down (metaphorically speaking) into something useful, so that many thousands a week were thus saved to the taxpayer at home. ”All the creation of Colonel Davies, who has saved the Government thousands and thousands of pounds. Such a thing has never been done before!”
Similarly, at Rouen (whither she drove on February 26--fifty miles--through blinding snow) she was fascinated by the motor-transport department--”the biggest thing of its kind in France--the creation of one man, Colonel Barnes, who started with 'two b.a.l.l.s of string and a packet of nails,' and is now dealing with 40,000 vehicles.”
Another snowy and Arctic drive from Rouen to Dieppe, and on to Abbeville, where a wonderful piece of news awaited them.
_To T. H. W._
”_February 29, 1916._
...”After lunch Colonel Schofield [their guide] went out to find the British Headquarters and report. Dorothy and I went up to the cathedral, and on emerging from it met the Colonel with another officer, who introduced himself as Colonel Dalrymple White, M.P. 'I have news for you, Mrs. Ward, which I think will change your plans!' I looked at him rather aghast, wondering if I was to be suddenly sent home! 'There is an invitation for you from G.H.Q., and we have been telephoning about, trying to find you. Great luck that Colonel Schofield looked in just now.' Whereupon it appeared that 'by the wish of the Foreign Office,' G.H.Q. had invited me for two days, and that an officer would call for me at Boulogne on Wednesday morning, and take me to the place which no one here mentions but with bated breath, and which I will not write! [St.
Omer.] I was naturally thrilled, but I confess I am in terror of being in their way, and also of not being able to write anything the least adequate to such an opportunity. However it could not of course be refused.”