Chapter 7
That this economy and savings idea has gone home to high and low was proved by an incident that happened while I was in London. A man appeared before a certain well-known judge to ask for payment out of a sum of money that stood to his credit for compensation to "buy clothes." The judge reprimanded him sharply, saying, "Are you not aware that one of the principal War Don'ts is, 'Don't buy clothes: wear your old ones.'" With this he held up his own sleeve which showed considerable signs of wear. Then he added: "If I can afford to wear old garments, you can. Your application is dismissed."
With saving has come a spirit of sacrifice as this incident shows: A London household comprising father, mother and two children moved into a smaller house, thus saving fifty dollars a year. By becoming teetotalers they saved another five shillings (one dollar and a quarter) and on clothes the same weekly sum. They took no holiday this summer: ate meat only three times a week, abstained from sugar in their tea, cut down short tramway rides, and the father reduced his smoking allowance. By these means they have been able to buy a War Savings Certificate every week.
Just as no sum has been too small to save, so is no act too trivial to achieve some kind of conservation. People are urged to carry home their bundles from shops. This means saving time and labour in delivery and permits the automobile or wagon to be used in more important work. I could cite many other instances of this kind.
Even the children think and write in terms of economy. At the annual meeting of the British Association for the Advancement of Science held last summer at Newcastle, an eminent doctor read a paper on "London Children's Ideas of How to Help the War." The replies to his questions, which were sent to more than a thousand families, all indicated that the juvenile mind was thoroughly soaked with the savings idea. Some of the answers that he quoted were very humorous. A boy in Kensington gave the following reasons:
"Eat less and the soldiers get more: If you make a silly mistake in your arithmetic tell your mother not to let you have any jam, and put the money saved in the War Loan: Stop climbing lamp-posts and save your clothes: Don't wear out your boots by striking sparks on the kerbstones: If you buy a pair of boots you are a traitor to your country, because the man who makes them may keep a soldier waiting for his: Don't use so much soap: Don't buy German-made toys."
The net result of this mobilisation of the forces of thrift is that up to January the first 50,000,000 War Certificates had been sold, representing an investment of nearly 40,000,000 pounds or approximately $200,000,000. The striking feature about this large sum is that it was reared with the coppers of working men and women. "Serve by Saving" in England has become more than a phrase.
All this was not achieved, however, without the most persistent publicity. England to-day is almost one continuous bill board. The hoardings which blazed with the appeal for recruits and the War Loan now proclaim in word and picture the virtues of saving and the value of the now familiar War Certificates. Likewise they embody a spectacular lesson in thrift for everybody.
One of the most effective posters is headed "ARE YOU HELPING THE GERMANS?" Under this caption is the subscription:
"You are helping the Germans when you use a motor car for pleasure: when you buy extravagant clothes: when you employ more servants than you need: when you waste coal, electric light or gas: when you eat and drink more than is necessary to your health and efficiency.
"Set the right example, free labour for more useful purposes, save money and lend it to the Nation and so help your Country."
A gruesome, but none the less striking, poster is entitled: "What is the Price of Your Arms?"
Then comes the following dialogue:
Civilian: "How did you lose your arm, my lad?"
Soldier: "Fighting for you, sir."
Civilian: "I'm grateful to you, my lad."
Soldier: "How much are you grateful, sir?"
Civilian: "What do you mean?"
Soldier: "How much money have you lent your Country?"
Civilian: "What has that to do with it?"
Soldier: "A lot. How much is one of your arms worth?"
Civilian: "I'd pay anything rather than lose an arm."
Soldier: "Very well. Put the price of your arm, or as much as you can afford, into Exchequer Bonds or War Savings Certificates, and lend your money to your Country."
Still another is entitled "BAD FORM IN DRESS" and reads:
"The National Organising Committee for War Savings appeals against extravagance in women's dress.
"Many women have already recognised that elaboration and variety in dress are bad form in the present crisis, but there is still a large section of the community, both amongst the rich and amongst the less well to do, who appear to make little or no difference in their habits.
"New clothes should only be bought when absolutely necessary and these should be durable and suitable for all occasions. Luxurious forms, for example, of hats, boots, shoes, stockings, gloves, and veils should be avoided.
"It is essential, not only that money should be saved, but that labour employed in the clothing trades should be set free."
Harnessed to the Saving and Investment Campaign is a definite and organised crusade against drink, ancient curse of the British worker, male and female. It is really part of the movement instituted by the Government at the beginning of the war to curtail liquor consumption. One phase is devoted to Anti-Treating, which makes it impossible to buy any one a drink in England. This was followed by a drastic restriction of drinking hours in all public places where alcohol is served. Liquors may only be obtained now between the hours of 12 noon and 2:30 in the afternoon and from 6 to 9:30 at night. As a matter of fact, the only tipple that you can get at supper after the play, even in the smartest London hotels, is a fruit cup, which is a highly sterilised concoction.
The War Savings Committee has borne down hard on the drinking evil and England's enormous yearly outlay for liquor--nearly a billion dollars--is used as a telling argument for thrift. A poster and a pamphlet that you see on all sides is headed, "THE NATION'S DRINK BILL," and reads:
"The National War Savings Committee calls attention to the fact that the sum now being spent by the Nation on alcoholic liquors is estimated at
£182,000,000 a year.
"And appeals earnestly for an immediate and substantial reduction of this expenditure in view of the urgent and increasing need for economy in all departments of the Nation's life.
"Obviously, in the present national emergency a daily expenditure of practically £500,000 on spirits, wine and beer cannot be justified on the ground of necessity. This expenditure, therefore, like every other form and degree of expenditure beyond what is required to maintain health and efficiency is directly injurious to national interests.
"Much of the money spent on alcohol could be saved. Even more important would be (1) the saving for more useful purposes of large quantities of barley, rice, maize and sugar; and (2) the setting free of much labour urgently needed to meet the requirements of the Navy and the Army.
"To do without everything not essential to health and efficiency while the war lasts is the truest patriotism."
Under the silent but none the less convincing plea of these posters, backed up by millions of leaflets and booklets explaining every phase of the Savings Campaign, the sale of Certificates rose steadily. From 906,000 in May they jumped to nearly 3,000,000 in June. But this was not enough. "Let us make one big smash and see what happens," said the Committee. Thereupon came the idea for a War Savings Week, which was to be a notable rallying of all the Forces of Thrift and Saving.
No grand assault on any of the actual battle fronts was worked out with greater care or more elaborate attention to detail than this Savings Drive. No loophole to register was overlooked. It was planned to begin the work on Sunday, July 16th.
First of all, the resources of the Church were mobilised. A Thrift sermon was preached that Sunday morning in nearly every religious edifice in the Kingdom. Following its rule to leave nothing to chance, the War Savings Committee prepared a special book of notes and texts for sermons which was sent to Minister, Leaders of Brotherhoods and Men's Societies. Texts were suggested and ready-made and ready to deliver sermons were included. One of these sermons was called "The Honour of the Willing Gift," another was entitled "The Nation and Its Conflict," and its peculiarly appropriate text was "Well is it with the man that dealeth graciously and lendeth."
A special address (in words of one syllable) to the children of England embodying the virtues of penny saving and showing how these pennies could be made to work and earn more pennies, as shown in the concrete example of a War Savings Certificate, was read by thousands of Sunday school teachers to their classes throughout the nation.
Nearly every human being in Great Britain got the Message of Thrift that week. Boy Scouts and Girl Guides went from house to house bearing copies of the various kinds of instructive literature that had been prepared for the campaign. Typical of the thoroughness of the detail is the fact that in Wales all this material was printed in the Welsh language. The only country where no special efforts were made was Scotland, where to preach thrift is little less than an insult.
For seven days and nights the almost incessant onslaught was kept up. When the smoke cleared and the count was taken, it was found that 3,000,000 Certificates had been sold during the week while the total for the month was 10,700,000.
So vividly was the phrase "War Savings Week" driven home that the War Savings Committee decided instantly to capitalise this new asset. In a few days hundreds of bill boards and fences throughout the Kingdom blossomed forth with this sentence, painted in red, white and blue letters: "Make Every Week National War Savings Week."
Not content with splashing the bill boards with the injunction to save, the National Committee hit upon what came to be the most popular medium for disseminating the Gospel of Thrift. It enlisted the movies. A film called "For the Empire" was made by a number of well known motion picture actors and actresses who gave their services free of charge.
It was a moving and graphic story of the war showing how a certain English lad volunteers at the outset and goes to the front. You get a vivid picture of life in the trenches shown in actual war scenes. Then you see the young soldier fall while gallantly leading a charge: his body is brought home and he is buried with military honours. Then the screens hurls the question at the audience: "This man has died for his Country. What are you doing for the Nation in its hour of trial?" Now follows a vivid lesson in how to save and buy a War Savings Certificate. This film has been shown in 2500 cinema theatres up to the first of the year and was booked to be shown in 1000 more within the next few months.
So widespread has the Thrift movement become that the War Savings Committee now publishes its own monthly magazine called _War Savings_. The first issue appeared on September first and included such timely articles as "The Might of a Mite," a lesson in penny building: "The Final Mobilisation," which showed how the last £100,000,000 would win the war: a third article explained the Economy Exhibition now being held all over Great Britain as part of the Thrift crusade. There was also an article on the War Saving movement by Reginald McKenna, Chancellor of the Exchequer, and a very illuminating appeal, "Every Household Must Help Win the War."
This leads to one of the most instructive branches of the whole campaign, the one devoted to the elimination of waste in the household. Under the direction of the Patriotic Food League a voluminous and helpful literature has been prepared and distributed. One booklet devoted to "Waste in the Well-to-do Household" shows how gas, coal and electric light bills, and the whole cost of living can be reduced. Another called "Household Economies" has helpful hints for mistress and maid: a third is "The Best Foods in War-Time." A stirring plea was made to every household in the shape of a card surmounted by a picture of Lord Kitchener and containing his famous warning to the English people: "Either the civilian population must go short of many things to which it is accustomed in times of peace, or our armies must go short of munitions and other things indispensable to them." Below this quotation was the stirring question:
"Which is it to be: economy in the household or shortage in the Army and Navy?"
Under the title of "War Savings in the Home" a plan of campaign has been sent to every household in England for operation during the whole period of war. Among other things it urges every family to give up meat for at least one day in the week, and in any case to use it only once a day. Margarine is recommended instead of butter. Home baking is strenuously suggested. It is shown how reduction in personal and household expenditure can be effected, for example, in the laundry by using curtains and linen that can be washed in the house. A special appeal to dispense with starched and ornamental lingerie is made. In these and many other ways the style of living is simplified so that the amount of domestic service in every home is greatly cut down and much labour set free for war work and general production.
Indeed, no phase of Life or Work has escaped the Search-Light of the benevolent Inquisition which has wrought Conservation out of Waste.
It has a larger significance than merely changing habits and converting pounds and pence into guns and shells. It means that England is creating a Sovereignty of Small Investors, thus setting up the safeguard that is the salvation of any land. The War Savings Certificate will have a successor in the shape of a more permanent but equally stable Government bond.
When all is said and done you find that huge reservoirs of Savings at work form a country's real bulwark. Through investment in small, accessible, and marketable securities a people become independent and therefore more efficient and productive. It mobilises money.
Behind all the spectacular publicity that has swept hundreds of millions of British shillings into safe and profitable employment is a Lesson of Preparedness that America may well heed. It means a form of National Service that is just as vital to the general welfare as physical training for actual conflict. A nation trained to save is a nation equipped to meet the shock of economic crisis which is more potent than the attack of armed forces.
What does it all mean? Simply this: no man can touch the English thrift campaign without seeing in it another evidence of a great nation's grim determination to win, whatever the sacrifice.
The British people at home have come to realise that by personal economy and denial they can serve their country and their cause just as effectively as those who fight amid the blare of battle abroad. They are animated by a New Patriotism that is both practical and self-effacing. It is giving the Englishman generally a higher sense of public devotion: it is making him a better and more productive human unit: it is equipping the nation to meet the drastic economic ordeal of to-morrow.
If this lesson of conservation is heeded after the war and becomes a feature of the permanent British life, then the Great Conflict will almost have been worth its dreadful cost in blood and treasure. He who saves now will not have saved in vain.
VI--_The Price of Glory_
When John Jones of the U.S.A. puts his thousand dollars into an English, French, Russian or German bond he becomes part and parcel of the mightiest financial structure ever dedicated to a single purpose. He cannot tell how his funds will be used. They may buy a few hundred shells, clothe a thousand soldiers, feed a battalion or build a trench. All he knows is that his mite joins the continuous and colossal stream of expense that makes up the Red Wage of War.
Now if John Jones employs his money in the stock or bond of a railroad, corporation, or public utility enterprise he can find out almost precisely what it does, for it lays down a track, provides new equipment or builds a power house. The investment, in short, represents something that produces more wealth.
War, on the other hand, is a gigantic engine of destruction. Instead of building up, it tears down. It is a monster machine consecrated to waste. The only possible dividend can be peace.
The cost of the European conflict has a deeper interest for us than mere curiosity over staggering statistics. The reason is that we have joined the Paymaster's Corps. In other words, we have backed up our sympathy with cash. We are silent partners in the costliest and deadliest of all businesses.
Up to the present stupendous struggle and with the exception of the Russo-Japanese War in which we floated several issues for the little yellow men, we have had no definite economic part in the wars that shook other nations. The losses in money and in men fell on the combatants.
This war, which has shattered so many precedents, has drawn the United States out of its one-time aloofness. To the dignity of World Trader we have added the twin distinction of World Banker. Already we have poured out practically two billions of dollars for securities and credits of the warring countries. To this must be added an even greater sum representing our enormous war exports. The price, therefore, of whatever freedom emerges from these years of bloodshed intimately touches thousands of American pocketbooks in one way or another.
What is the final toll that Battle will take: more important than this, what is the future of the treasure that we have laid on its Consuming Altar?
Before making any analysis of the American stake in the cost of the European War, it is important to find out first just how much money has been expended and what the likelihood of future outlay will be. Like every other phase of the stupendous upheaval this one is both speculative and problematical.
To deal with these European War figures is to flirt with Titanic Numerals. They are more the Playthings of the Gods than matters for mere mortals to juggle with.
Up to the first of January, 1917, the total military expenses of both sides had reached approximately $61,000,000,000. It is only when you reduce this enormous sum to terms that every man and woman can understand that you begin to get some idea of the amazing cost of conflict.
The amount of money expended for direct war purposes alone since August 1, 1914, is equal to three times the par value capitalization of all the American railroads. It represents fifty times the net national debt of the United States: eighteen times the amount of money in actual circulation in this country: and eleven times the total deposits in all our savings banks. With it you could build 146 Panama Canals or pay for the Napoleonic, Crimean, Russo-Japanese, South African and American Civil Wars and still have a surplus of $34,000,000,000 left. Such is the New and High Cost of War!
The price of glory is being constantly advanced. The expenditures for the first year of the war were $17,500,000,000: for the second they had increased to $28,000,000,000: the estimate for the third year, to end August 1, 1917, at the present rate of spending is about $33,000,000,000. This means that by the time the next harvest moon shines (and no man in Europe to-day doubts that it will gleam on carnage), the war will have represented a sacrifice for military purposes alone of $78,500,000,000.
Taking the daily cost of the war you find that England is $25,000,000 poorer for every twenty-four hours that pass: that France must check out $20,000,000: Russia $16,000,000: Italy $5,000,000. Little Roumania is cutting her war expenditure teeth at the rate of $1,000,000 per diem.
Cross the frontier (for war expense is no respecter of cause or creed), and Germany is "discovered," as they say in play-books, spending $17,500,000 every day: Austria, Turkey and Bulgaria, $11,000,000. Thus between sunrises that break over these warring hosts very nearly $100,000,000 has gone up in smoke, splinters or ruin of some kind, or the upkeep of fighting.
Since England's cost each day is heavier than any of the other countries at war, due to the fact that she is Financial First Aid to most of her Allies and is maintaining a fleet almost equal to all the others combined, let us reduce her enormous daily war bill of $25,000,000 to simpler form. It means that participation in the greatest of all wars is costing her $1,410,666 an hour, $17,361 a minute and a little over $289 a second. At this rate of waste John D. Rockefeller would be bankrupt in forty days; Andrew Carnegie would be in the bread line in ten. The sum is greater than the entire net public debt of Chicago; it equals the assessed valuation of all the taxable property in Poughkeepsie, New York.
Work out this immense daily outlay from still another angle and these striking facts develop: the war is costing at the rate of 29 cents a day for every inhabitant of the United Kingdom: 31 cents for every individual in France: 22 cents for every person in the Kaiser's domain, and 6 cents for each human unit in the Russian Empire.
Yet this well-nigh overwhelming rush of figures only accounts for the actual cost of hostilities. By this I mean arms and armament, food and military supplies, the construction, maintenance and renewal of fleets, the cost of transport and the pay of soldiers and sailors.
To the vast sum already recorded must be added the loss registered by the destruction of cities, towns and villages, the sinking of ships, the wiping out of factories, warehouses, bridges, roads and railways.
Then, too, you must allow for the almost incalculable productive loss due to the killing and maiming of millions of men: the shrinkage of agricultural yields and the more or less general dislocation of the machinery of output. All these factors pile up a total, the calculation of which would almost cause a compound fracture of the brain. Sufficient to say it puts a terrific human and financial tax on coming generations and we in America will feel its effects when the world begins to readjust itself to the altered social and economic conditions which will come with peace.
Of course the inevitable question arises: Who is paying the Scarlet Piper? In seeking the answer you encounter for the first time America's intimate and all-important part in the costly drama now being unfolded to the tune of billions. She sits in the armoured box-office with the Treasurers of the embattled nations.
At the outset of the war all the belligerent countries believed that they could finance their needs without seeking neutral aid. Less than a year was enough to dispel this delusion. Although England and France immediately voted immense credits they were not long in finding out that they must back up their unprecedented mobilisation of resources with outside help. They came to us.
When the great Anglo-French loan of $500,000,000 was first discussed as a possible American financial feat, people over here began to wonder why Great Britain and France, whose combined wealth exceeds that of all the other nations at war, should want overseas assistance. Since the reason for this loan as well as the disposition of proceeds are practically the same as that of most of the other Allied issues in this country in which thousands of our investors have participated, it is well worth explaining because it also carries with it a lesson in international barter. Here it is: