FOOLING THE WATCHERS IN THE SKY

IN the early stages of the war it seemed impossible to hide anything from the Germans. They had eyes everywhere, and were able to anticipate everything the Allies did. But the spies that infested the sky were the worst handicap. Even when the Allies gained control of the air, the control was more or less nominal, because every now and then an enemy observer would slip over or under the patroling aeroplanes and make photographs of the Allies' lines. To disclose the slightest change in detail, these photographs were carefully compared with others previously taken. Aëroplane observers would not only be ready to drop bombs on any suspicious object or upon masses of troops moving along the roads, but would telegraph back to their artillery to direct its fire upon these targets. Of course, the enemy knew where the roads were located and a careful watch was kept of them. The French did not try to hide the roads, but they concealed the traffic on the roads by hanging rows of curtains over them. As these curtains hung vertically and were spaced apart, one would suppose that they would furnish little concealment; but they prevented an observer in an aeroplane from looking down the length of a road. All the road he could see was that which lay directly under his machine, because there he could look between the curtains, but if he looked at the road at an angle, the curtains would appear to overlap one another and would conceal operations going on under them.

In one case, the Germans completely covered a sunken road with canvas painted to represent a road surface. Under this canvas canopy, troops were moved to an important strategic point without betraying the slightest inkling of such a move

ment.

HIDING BIG GUNS

NATURE'S tricks of camouflage were freely used in hiding the implements of war on land. To conceal our big guns, they were painted with leopard spots and tiger

stripes, the color and nature of the camouflage depending upon the station they were to occupy. In many cases, they were covered with branches of trees, or with rope netting covered with leaves. So careful were the observations of the air scouts that even the grass scorched by the fire of the gun had to be covered with green canvas to avoid betraying the position of the gun.

In making an emplacement for a gun, it was of the utmost importance that no freshly upturned earth be disclosed to the aërial observers. Even foot-paths leading to it had to be concealed. Plans were carefully made to cover up all traces of the work before it was commenced. Where it was impossible to conceal the paths, they were purposely made to lead well beyond the point where the emplacement was building; and still further to deceive the enemy, a show of work was sometimes undertaken at the end of the path. Wherever the sod had to be upturned, it was covered over with green canvas. The earth that was removed had to be concealed somewhere, and the best place of concealment was found to be some old shell-hole, which would hold a great deal of earth without any evidence that would be apparent to an observer in an aeroplane. If no shell-hole was handy, the excavated material had to be hauled for miles before a safe dumping-ground could be found. As far as possible, everything was sunk below the earth level. Big pits were dug, in which the mortars were placed, or, if a shell-hole was empty, this was used.

SHADOWLESS BUILDINGS

ANY projection above the ground is apt to cast a shadow which would show up on the observer's photographs. This was a difficulty that was experienced in building the hangars for airplanes. The roofs of these sheds were paint green, so as to match the sod around them; but as they projected above their surroundings, they cast shadows which made them clearly evident to the enemy. This was overcome by building shadowless hangars; that is, with roofs that extended all the way to the ground at such an angle that they would

cast no shadow except when the sun was low. In some cases, aëroplanes were housed in underground hangars, the approach to which was concealed by a canvas covering. As for the airplanes themselves, paint was little protection to to them. Transparent wings of cellon (a material similar to celluloid) were used, but this did not prove a success.

THE PHOTOGRAPHIC EYE

ALTHOUGH camoufleurs made perfect imitations of natural objects and surroundings, they were greatly concerned to find that the flying observers could see through their disguises. To the naked eye, the landscape would not show the slightest trace of any suspicious object, but by using a color-screen to cut out certain rays of light, a big difference would be shown between the real colors of nature and the artist's copies of them. For instance, if a roof painted to look like green grass were viewed through a red color-screen, it would look brown. While the real grass, which apparently was of exactly the same shade as the roof, would look red. So the air scouts did not depend upon their eyes alone, but fitted their cameras with color-screens, so that they could study their photographs at their leisure and, by an

alyzing the light with different screens, undo the patient work of the artist. For it had not been realized by some of the artists, who had never studied the composition of light, that there is a great deal of red in the green light reflected by grass, and that, if they were to duplicate this shade of green, they must put a certain amount of red into their paint.

To meet this situation, another man was summoned to help the physicist, who looks upon color merely as waves of ether, who can pick a ray of light to pieces just as a chemist can analyze a lump of sugar. Under his expert guidance, colors of nature were imitated so that they would defy detection. Aside from this, they helped to solve the tricks of the enemy's camoufleurs.

But the physicist had barely rolled up his sleeves and got into the fray when the armistice was signed, which put an end to the shams as well as the realities of the great war. While the science of camouflage was left incomplete, we owe an inestimable debt to the men who know how to fake scenery and to their learned associates who count the wave lengths of light; and although their trade was a trade of deception and shams, there was no sham about the service they rendered.

Look at this surface of the moon, and you have the best picture of Northern France-not the sunny France of the stories, but the France for which our soldiers fought, the reclaimed France, the France that for four long years was held by the Germans.

Four years ago that section of France was beautiful. It was prosperous and its people were happy. The Hun came. And, as the kaiser commanded, he came like Attila-with orders that, where his armies trod, grass should never grow again.

Only too well the Hun obeyed that command! As he swept over Northern France, he ground its people, their homes, and their happiness, into the dust. He made it a blasted region, a region in which, at first glance, there is no more sign of life than there is on the moon.

But there is life in Northern France. And there will be the old life and prosperity there again.

When the Hun drove back the armies. of France in that first fierce rush, great numbers of the people fell back with their soldiers. They became "refugees." They flew blindly, leaving their beautiful homes, their farms, their stores, their factories, and their mines to the Hun. They took with them only what they could carry on their backs or in little carts. found new homes where they couldwith friends, or in government camps, or through the charity of the people in other parts of France. All during those terrible days, American citizens were constantly aiding the refugees.

They

There were others who stayed, defying the fury of the marauders. When the Hun tide swept over them, many of them died, but others managed to exist. They lived in cellars, in huts, in caves, and wherever they could. They had to live underground, just as the soldiers did, because of the shells.

They lived there for four long years. They were ringed with a wall of steel, from which there was no escape. And the

iron-shod heel of the Hun crushed down upon them without mercy.

The men of the region were all in the army. They had joined the colors when war was declared. There were none of them at home to protect the women and children when the Hun came, except those who were too old or too weak to fight. Even these were dragged off by the Germans and made to work for them. Thousands of the women were dragged into slavery. When the children were old enough, they were made to work for the Germans. Even when they were not old enough, they had to work; for they had to keep themselves alive, and they had no one else to help them.

When the French,

British, and, finally,

the

the

The war is over. Northern France is redeemed from the Hun. But for us and for all the relief organizations the war is. just beginning.

These people of Northern France have virtually nothing. It is not that they are without warm clothes and good food. They have no clothes and no food.

Americans drove back the Hun and rescued this region, they tried to help the people rebuild their homes. Many Americans helped them through the Red Cross, and my own organization and many others.

But the Hun came again. As the battles swung back and forth across the country, the shells and the high explosives blasted it until it was worse than before. And again the Hun crushed and enslaved the weak and helpless people who were left. It was not until last summer and fall that the Hun was finally driven out. On November 11, when the armistice was signed, he began the final retreat, the armies of the French, the British, and the Americans following him.

With the soldiers went the people of the relief organizations. I was one of them. I had been there before. Ever since the beginning of the war the Duryea Relief had been working for these people. Whenever the Allies regained part of the country we helped the people until we were driven out.

That seems strange to Americans. Most young Americans have seen poor people who had hardly any clothes and very little food. Can they imagine a whole country where everybody is poor? That is Northern France. Everybody is poor.

These people have no homes. The shells wrecked them. They have no farms, no factories, no stores. The Huns stole everything that could be moved, and then wrecked the rest. They blew up the buildings, burned the things that would burn, and smashed everything. They even cut down the fruit trees.

When the Allied armies got into these

regions, they found the inhabitants, who still remained, living like animals. There were no farms to grow food, and no stores to sell clothes and medicine and other necessary things. Even if there had been stores, the people could not have bought things, because they had no money.

The armies helped these unfortunates, and the relief organizations helped them. For a long time the relief organizations will have to continue helping them. And most of this help will have to come from Americans. Perhaps the United States Government will help them, too, with the money raised by the Fifth Liberty Loanthe Victory Loan.

Remember, this region is like the surface of the moon, blasted and wrecked. The poor people who crept out of the holes in the ground, when the Huns were driven back, and the people who returned to their homes with the Allied armies, have just as hard a task to face as they would if they tried to set up housekeeping in the moon.

They have no houses to live in. They have to build them. They have to get beds and blankets, stoves, pots and pans, plates, knives, forks, spoons, and everything else needed to set up housekeeping. There are no stores to get them from. They must get them from other parts of France and from America.

Then they have no clothes and no shoes. All Northern France is barefoot. The only clothes they have are what kind people have given them. They are dressed in scraps and rags. I have seen people dressed in clothes made of the ticking that had been on their mattresses. The children are dressed in thin little cotton things that do not keep them warm. All that most of them have is one little apron. They have no food. We have to give them everything. And the one thing they need most is milk. The children have died by the thousands because they had no milk; and many thousands more of them will die if they do not get some.

Look at our picture of the two little children sitting in the ruins. I took the photograph myself near Roye. Roye was

once one of the most beautiful towns in France. These ruins were once the children's home. It was a beautiful house, a house that any children would have been proud to live in. Their mother and father gave these children every comfort. They had plenty of clothes and food and toys. In fact, they are sitting on the floor of what was their nursery, a big room filled with wonderful toys.

Now look again at the picture. Their beautiful home is a pile of broken stones. The only clothes they have are the little black dresses they wear. These dresses were made in America, and given to them by the Duryea Relief. They were brought back to their home after the Hun had been driven out, and are being cared for by the Duryea Relief, because there is nobody else to care for them. Their father, a soldier, was killed. Their mother was carried off as a slave by the Germans. She died, because they made her work too hard. Think of this little boy and little girl. trying to earn their living!

There are thousands and thousands of other little boys and girls like these. Their fathers and mothers are dead. They have nobody to take care of them. Their homes are destroyed, and they have absolutely nothing except what the relief organizations can give them.

The French Government is doing everything it can, but it has so many things to do that it has to depend on the relief organizations for nearly everything.

Even with all the help the French Government gives by shipping food and clothing from America to France free of charge, it is very hard to help these people, especially the children. When rugged men are worn out by the hardships of war, think of its effect upon these little folks of devastated France. And think of their being in the hands of the invaders. When you talk to them, as I did, you can see what that meant. German atrocities are too well known for me to dwell upon them now. Terror of the enemy is reflected in the very actions of the children. They seem afraid even of their own people. When Americans try to talk to them,