232 some time ago i read Mountain Jubilee by arnold lunn in which his nostalgia for switzerland and the mountains and snows of switzerland flows out on almost every page. this is all very flattering for switzerland, but i wonder how many people who have been privileged to 'see the war through' in england realise the nostalgia for england which people - chiefly women like myself - have endured all these years. nostalgia, not just to be home, but to be able to pull our weight with all the others in england.
i use the word 'privileged' advisedly because i feel that it has been a privilege to witness at close quarters the resurrection of england, of english tradition, of all that made the english what they have been and what they will always be. it looked, to many of us who saw the view from the distance and who did not live in it, as if england was losing something, and we yearned over our country and clung fast to our belief that it couldn't really be happening.
and then the war came and all our beliefs were justified, for england showed herself to be what she has always been - superb! we who have made our homes in other countries have -at least, i have -longed to be home during this resurrection and to do something! i don't mean that i longed for honour and glory, at least not the bombed out of house and home kind of honour and glory, but just to feel that i was doing my share with all the other women of england. i felt i wouldn't mind coping with food shortage, difficulties of transport, danger, lack of fuel, national work, anything, if i knew that whatever the discomfort was i was putting up with it quietly and as a matter
233 of course - for england! letters i had from england did not help. there were things waiting for me to do there, i was wanted. one letter ran: 'why aren't you here now? we need women like you'.
however, i am still here and i found things to do, later. none of them the least heroic or important, but i am still doing them. there was 'Digging for Victory' to be done, which has played and which is still playing, such an important role in switzerland. every corner, every sloping bank, every inch of land must be made to produce. i could dig and i dug with a will, joining the big cultivation plan put into action throughout the country. public parks became vegetable gardens, potatoes adorned the squares in our town and corn waved where corn had never waved before. there were the refugees, civil and military, pouring into the country. no public body could cope with them all at once and it was up to private people to do what they could. in my letter of last year i may have told what happened when i started to beg for the french soldiers in murren. within ten days i was able to fit out 250 men with clothes, thanks to the Swiss! that's the way the swiss give. everyone i asked, asked someone else and things came pouring into the house till it looked like an old clothes shop. one woman in the village took two shirts off her washing line and gave them to me, saying: 'i must just wash a little oftener'.
the red cross is always needing help and getting it; organisations which provide clothes, food, parcels, comforts for prisoners of war, exist in every town. we sew, collect books, anything and everything and since the capitulation of italy, has come another influx of refugees, english and american soldiers and italians, civil, military and political refugees, from the highest in the land to the poorest and meanest. they all have to be cared for. in the beginning many italians came in with permission from the swiss government, but the only way open to them now is the 'black' route, slipping between german guards, braving the mountains or the dangers of being smuggled in somehow by italian partisans. i have just come back from a little place on the italian-swiss frontier, where i was in touch with these brave men and women and knew as much of their activities as their trust in me allowed them to tell. their lives are in their hands every moment of the day and
234 night and they are still bringing italians, british and american soldiers over the frontier at an incredible rate. they brought 27 british officers up to within sight of the frontier whilst i was there, but when these men decided to join up with their own forces instead of crossing into internment in switzerland, the partisans took them and handed them safely over in an amazingly short space of time. many of the tales i should like to tell must wait till after the war, because quite a few of these italian partisans are living in switzerland as respectable citizens and those of us who know anything - just don't know anything at all!
we women who have our relatives in england are in constant anxiety, often without news and with no hope of reunion till after the war. true, we, our husbands and children are safe and that is a great deal for which to be thankful. life is complicated, housekeeping is difficult, little food can be bought without coupons and clothes and footwear are rationed. we have all we need if not all we want, and when one remembers that we are feeding and clothing 80,000 refugees as well as ourselves, it is a miracle of organisation that we are all fed and clothed, particularly when one looks at the map and studies the position of switzerland for a moment!
for the last 10 months i have had two italian children in my home and they will remain for the duration of the war. the extra coupons i have had given me for them has enabled me to see that they have had not only all they need, but all they want. and the first to give was a village woman who slipped coupons into my hand, saying: 'we don't need it. give it to thee little ones, they need feeding up'. strict as the rationing is, everyone can spare something where they see refugees.
difficult times bring out character and i have seen many surprising things in this country. i have seen true heroism in the little, irritating affairs of everyday life and i have seen a lot of sad exploitation of circumstances. i have heard grumbling from people whose position certainly does not entitle them to grumble and i have seen stoicism where i least expected it. generosity and open heartedness have come from people whom i never suspected of possessing either and men behaviour from people i had believed to be made of different stuff.
we have had our alarms and excursions, of course. how could it be otherwise, situated as we are? our men are mobilised, our
235 frontiers fortified and manned. but inside those frontiers, no matter what happens outside them, is switzerland, safe, her people pursuing their normal lives as far as possible, eating their daily bread in confidence and trust, the children secure, homes undamaged and the future - we hope and trust - assured. and in this hope and trust we can look proudly at the three flags which fly side by side over swiss soil. three flags very much alike in shape and form, since all are crosses. the cross of christianity, oldest of them all, which has never been torn down to make room for any other emblem; the white cross on the red ground, our national flag which has flown over free switzerland since the middle ages; and the red cross on the white ground which henri dunant, swiss founder of the society of the Red Cross, made by reversing the flag of his country. as long as we can keep these in our hearts, i think we need little else, the cross of Christ for faith, the cross of switzerland for hope and the red cross of charity, the charity which out of our own security we give with both hands in thankfulness that we have it to give.
thank You Lord for the many delightful things in this little book and, for me, a bit of an introduction to switzerland which i have loved and been intrigued with since reading of Your followers, the waldensians who lived, though often hunted, there for centuries....o keep us from thinking well of ourselves, Lord. only You are good and all true good flows from Your lowly grace. amen.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment