KHAKIWe cannot conceal from ourselves that, privately, we are a little troubled
about our uniform. It is one of our prides; it is acquainted with honor;
it is familiar with great deeds and noble; we love it, we revere it; and
so this errand it is on makes us uneasy. And our flag -- another pride
of ours, our chiefest! We have worshipped it so; and when we have seen
it in far lands -- glimpsing it unexpectedly in that strange sky, waving
its welcome and benediction to us -- we have caught our breath, and uncovered
our heads, and couldn't speak, for a moment, for the thought of what it
was to us and the great ideals it stood for. Indeed, we must do something
about these things; we must not have the flag out there, and the uniform.
They are not needed there; we can manage in some other way. England manages,
as regards the uniform, and so can we. We have to send soldiers -- we
can't get out of that -- but we can disguise them. It is the way England
does in South Africa. Even Mr. Chamberlain himself takes pride in England's
honorable uniform, and makes the army down there wear an ugly and odious
and appropriate disguise, of yellow stuff such as quarantine flags are
made of, and which are hoisted to warn the healthy away from unclean disease
and repulsive death. This cloth is called khaki. We could adopt it. It
is light, comfortable, grotesque, and deceives the enemy, for he cannot
conceive of a soldier being concealed in it. |
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