LONDON LETTER
325
fore. Clearly one can't verify such impressions, but I have believed all
along that England has been
happier
during the war, in spite of the
desperate tiredness of some periods. It is usual to say that war simply
causes suffering, but I question whether this is so when the casualties
are small, as they have been for this country on tllis occasion. What
happens in total war is that the acute suffering-not merely danger and
hardship but boredom and homesickness-is pushed on to the armed
forces, who may number ten percent of the population, while the rest
enjoy a security and a social equality which they never know at other
times. Of course there; is also bombing, the break-up of families, anxiety
over husbands and sons, overwork and lack of amusements, but these
are probably much more tolerable than the haunting dread of unem–
ployment against a background of social competitiveness.
Having come back from the continent I can see England with fresh
eyes, and I see that certain things-for instance, the pacifist habit of
mind, respect for freedom of speech and belief in legality-have man–
aged to survive here while seemingly disappearing on the other side of
the Channel. But if I had to say what had most struck me about the
behavior of the British people during the war, I should point to the
lack
of reaction of any kind. In the face of terrifying dangers and golden
political opportunities, people just keep on keeping on, in a sort of
nvilight sleep in which they are conscious of nothing except the daily
round of work, family life, darts at the pub, exercising the dog, mowing
the lawn, bringing home the supper beer, etc., etc. I remember that
during the worst moment of Dunkirk I was walking in a park with a
friend, and I pointed out to him that in the behavior of the crowds there
was absolutely nothing to indicate that anything out of the ordinary was
happening. Exactly as usual people were pushing their prams to and
fro, young men were chasing girls, games of cricket were being played,
etc. He said gloomily, "They'll behave like this until the bombs
start dropping, and then they'll panic." Yet they didn't panic, and, as I
noted at the time, they preserved the ordinary pattern of their lives to
a surprising extent even amid the disorganization caused by the bombing.
As William Empson puts it, "Three fathoms down the sea is always
calm." I think it is well established that this time there has been far less
feeling either for or against the war than there was last time.
It
is true
that this time the number of men registering as Conscientious Objectors
has about doubled itself, but I don't think this is significant, because,
unless one actually wanted to be a martyr, being a C.O. has not entailed
either ill-treatment or social ostracism this time. It has been made easy
for C.O.s to choose non-military jobs, and the number refusing all kinds
Qf
national service has been tiny. One has to remember that last time the
organized labor movement was more or less anti-war for the first two
years, there was strong feeling against conscription, and by the end
several parts of the country were not far from revolution. There were
