Lest We Regret by Douglas Reed published: 1943 CONTENTS Author's Note Part One - Great Argument Part Four - Battle In England 01 To Friends And Foes 01 In Civvy Street 02 ‘Something Constructive!’ 02 When The Boys Come Home 03 When The Girls Come Home 04 Snap! Part Two - Freedom Lost! 05 Peace, The Graveyard 06 The Example Of France 01 God’s Englishman 07 The House That Jerry Built 02 Where England Stood 08 Escape! 03 Where England Stands 09 The Example Of Germany 10 ‘All Nazis And Quislings’ 11 The Breed! Part Three - Freedom Regained? 12 A Tale Of Three Mothers 13 The Children Of Israel 01 First Things First 14 On Holding Our Own 02 The Choice Of Enemies 15 Social Security 03 Whodunnit? 16 Nineteen-Sixty Corner 04 The Re-education Of England 05 Four English Freedoms Kind Friends, Adieu AUTHOR'S NOTE I would be grateful if people in many parts of the Empire, who have received no reply from me, would read this book as an acknowledgment of their letters, a token of friendship reciprocated and an answer to their questions. I was forced to choose between continuing to write books or entering into a correspondence so great, that it would have occupied all my time. Most of these letters share a common theme - anxiety for the future, however our victory in this war may appear - and this book is a joint reply to them. The clear road beyond victory, for which we long, is still not visible. That is why I chose for my title the words Battle in England, from a letter written by a young officer who served far away from this, his native island. The letter was not sent to me; it was quoted in the House of Commons. One sentence vividly expresses the thought that prompts this book: 'We still feel out here that the ultimate battle is being won or lost in England.' And so it is. With victory, the battle for our future will only begin. The years 1919-39 are close enough for us to remember that. My publisher thought that the title I chose would confuse readers, who would expect from it a book about the military battle of Britain. The cover, therefore, bears another title: Lest We Regret. The theme of the book, nevertheless, is that 'Battle in England' which will have to be fought and won in this island, after the war, if our future is not to be lost. I have interpolated in the text several quotations from letters to me; they were so apt to my theme that I have used them to illustrate it. *** PART ONE GREAT ARGUMENT Chapter One TO FRIENDS AND FOES It is the land that freemen till That sober-suited-Freedom shows; The land where, girt with friends or foes, A man may speak the things he will. - TENNYSON Even good things come to an end, and this, gentle reader (forgive an outmoded salutation; to be abreast of the courtly times I ought to call you 'sucker' if you applaud me and 'rat' if you do not, but being a writer called rabid I love 'gentle reader'), this is the last of the books with which I have goaded and coaxed you, one nearly every year, since 1938. This opening sentence gives any I may vex an opportunity such as comes only once and I make no charge for it. (But neither rejoice nor lament too soon, gentle reader. If you will allow me a moment to change my literary clothes, I shall soon reappear before you in another guise.) Of its kind, alone, is this book the last. It is the end of my modest foresight saga, which I began in 1938 with a book called Insanity Fair. Great were my expectations then. Foreseeing this war, I thought I might avert it - with a book. O young man in a flurry! I foresaw then that little time remained before a thing might happen, which would leave this country the choice between capitulation without a fight and a war began in the worst imaginable circumstances for itself, and this thing was, the abandonment of a little country far away, called Czechoslovakia. Many chances to avert the war, were already gone; this one remained. To-day, those thunders of yesteryear dwindle, and Insanity Fair and its three children go their rounds, soon to be joined by this, the fourth and last. I did not guess, when I began, that I should write more than one book, or suspect how much personal satisfaction I should reap, in spite of the disappointment of the hope which inspired the original book. For the first time in my life, excluding the war service which I shared with millions of others, I cast from me thoughts of money, security, a career and the future, and acted from a patriotic impulse too strong to be thwarted. Yet the financial calamity I feared, like Shaw's disasters, never happened: in place of the calling I reluctantly gave up, I gained a better; and I surprise myself by the pleasure I still derive from having punched on the nose the craven imp, 'Safety First', and said the thing I would and the thing I knew. In that listless England, I 'did something', the most I could, and if this was but a book which has now joined the legion of others it was mine own. If I could plant the seed of adventure and the ideal of upholding what you think right at all costs, in any youngsters' minds to-day, by writing this, I should be glad, for I know that they would gain by it. Enough is enough. I gather that I do not bore others, but refuse to bore myself. Not for me, to outstay my encores (and I once saw even that happen, at the Scala in Berlin, when an English band leader was so clamantly applauded that he gave an encore, then two, five, ten encores, turning between each to ask 'Do you want more?' until the audience became silent, then restive, and finally called 'No, no more!') Prognostication is the thief of time, and I have other things to do. Because I believe our future salvation can only come from, through, or be taken from us by our Parliament, which robbed us of the last victory, I shall try to enter that building, where voices for England speak so seldom and so often for all else. When peace comes, I want also to go abroad and write of what goes on there, in the hope that the people of this country, if they are accurately informed, will not let themselves be hoodwinked again. But first, this book, the last of it's line. It is a fitting finish to the logical sequence. Insanity Fair was an urgent warning of the imminent outbreak of war. Lest We Regret is an urgent warning of a greater danger, the approaching outbreak of peace. This statement was greeted as a jest when I made it to a luncheon audience in London. The English take their leisure sadly and like to beguile it by listening to a speaker with whom they disagree while eating food which disagrees with them. Between indignation and indigestion, they have a grand time. They pay much for a bad meal and nothing for a good speaker (the odd belief prevails that the hotel- keeper deserves payment for his wares but not the speaker). But this was no joke! To-day millions of people have their every want cared for; to-morrow, they will need to fend for themselves. To-day all have work; to-morrow, each will have to seek it. To-day the young people take no thought for the morrow; to-morrow, they must think hard for the day. To-day, all clearly see their task, to win the war; and think they see clearly how to accomplish it, by serving. To-morrow, they will wish to live in peace, found families and prosper, but will they see the way to achieve that? To-day is filled with the adventure of war; to-morrow will be filled with humdrum. Such, at least, was the last peace. It was not peace. It was worse than the last war, worse than this war. These words protest against being written, yet they are true. The last peace, which was to endure for ever, held for twenty years. Twenty years of mass unemployment, derelict areas, a decaying countryside, growing disbelief and despair; twenty years, during which the men who came back from the last war saw their victory wantonly thrown away, while the rising generation lost faith in the future and the new war approached. That was the peace of 1919-39. That is the world to which the boys and girls will return unless they make it different. That is where I and this book come in: Having a son, a fighter pilot who got his wings at the age of eighteen, and a daughter who, after serving as an A.T.S. private in a mixed anti-aircraft battery for twelve months, now has a commission, I have come in contact during the past three years with a great number of the ordinary rank-and-file of the young generation. I feel convinced that these intelligent, deep-thinking boys and girls are not going to leave the making of the new world to anyone but themselves, when the war is won. Because I feel this - having listened for hours to their endless talks and discussions about the things that matter (freedom, simplicity, beauty, love, and, above all, right thinking) - I wish with all my heart that you would write something to show that we have a belief in, and an appreciation of them and all they are doing.