A PAINTER AND HIS TIMES
stew. First comes the bouquet, then the wine. I was reading a book
on the Battle of the Marne, for as befits a bewildered man, I was
back in the past during my time off from selling water-colours to
the enemy. There before me was Gallieni's famous coup d*<zil,
and I reflected that why, oh why, had there been no miracle in this
war. A German staff officer had told me, laughingly, that in this
war Germany had taken the necessary precautions against miracles.
He didn't know it, and as I've said before, I didn't know it, but
a miracle'had taken place. It was just after Dunkerque. For had
the Germans invaded England at the beginning of June the light
would have gone out. Now I began to understand the miracle.
It was based on two different causes.
The first one was that the German Army, so said many high
officers, expected the campaign of France to last three months.
It lasted less than a month. When the Kaiser, in 1914, told his
chief of staff, von Moltkc, that he only wanted to fight the Russians
and didn't fancy war on two fronts, von Moltke gave the oft-quoted
answer that all plans had been drawn up for simultaneous mobiliza-
tion in the east and west, and that it was too late to change them*
The Kaiser's bitter reply that his uncle would surely have given a
different answer is neither here nor there. So with the Meuse
behind them, and Boulogne and Calais captured, the immense
German war machine had to roll on, and once France capitulated
there still were two months' plans and organization left for the
already finished campaign.
The second reason was deeper and appeals more to the fancy,
though fundamentally it has more truth to it. It was caused by the
glory of the French past, by her high rank among nations and by
her prestige. It was a plum neither Hitler nor the generals could
resist, and the precise High Command fell for the temptation. So
they threw strategy and the grand opportunity to the wind, and
instead of invading England marched into fair Paris. It wasn't the
French Army of 1940 that saved England; definitely not. England
was saved by the French armies of the past. I liked that picture of
men dying at Wattigny, Austerlitz and Verdun to save England from
invasion in a month of June in years and years to come.
The bell rang, I went to the door, and there was Nona holding
Dodo in her arms. Dodo, in the street, had suddenly started to
turn round and round and foam at the mouth. I looked at Dodo and
she looked at me with that sadness that was in her eyes since the
coming of the Hun. I was frightened. Those were the symptoms
, of distemper, but Dodo was four, and had been inoculated against
it as a puppy. I didn't know where to take her, having very little