I imagine that not one head on those
envied pillows was made uneasy by the slightest premonition of the
realities of naval war the short lifetime of one generation was to bring
so close to their homes.
Though far away from that region of kindly memories and traversing a part
of the North Sea much less known to me, I was deeply conscious of the
familiarity of my surroundings. It was a cloudy, nasty day: and the
aspects of Nature don't change, unless in the course of thousands of
years--or, perhaps, centuries. The Phoenicians, its first discoverers,
the Romans, the first imperial rulers of that sea, had experienced days
like this, so different in the wintry quality of the light, even on a
July afternoon, from anything they had ever known in their native
Mediterranean. For myself, a very late comer into that sea, and its
former pupil, I accorded amused recognition to the characteristic aspect
so well remembered from my days of training. The same old thing. A grey-
green expanse of smudgy waters grinning angrily at one with white foam-
ridges, and over all a cheerless, unglowing canopy, apparently made of
wet blotting-paper.
Pages:
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227