For the
last fifteen years, had I known as much the night before the Grand
Prix was run as I did the next afternoon, I would be passing rich.
The only proposition before us was this: There was small chance of
any immediate fighting. If there were fighting we could not see it.
Confronted with the same conditions again, I would decide in exactly
the same manner. Our misfortune lay in the fact that our experience
with other armies had led us to believe that officers and gentlemen
speak the truth, that men with titles of nobility, and with the
higher titles of general and major-general, do not lie. In that we
were mistaken.
The parting from the other correspondents was a brutal attack upon
the feelings which, had we known they were to follow us two weeks
later to Tokio, would have been spared us. It is worth recording
why, after waiting many months to get to the front, they in their
turn so soon left it. After each of the big battles before Liao-Yang
they handed the despatches they had written for their papers to Major
Okabe. Each day he told them these despatches had been censored and
forwarded. After three days he brought back all the despatches and
calmly informed the correspondents that not one of their cables had
been sent. It was the final affront of Japanese duplicity.
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