Late last August Europe went through its last great pre-war crisis—terminated by war in Poland and the west. Late last November Europe went through another less spectacular crisis—terminated by war in Finland. Last week Europe was in the midst of another crisis.
The seriousness of the latest crisis was not that it made further war certain—this might be but another false alarm—but that it threatened the safety of nearly every nonbelligerent nation in Europe.
The neutral peoples of Europe could in some cases guess how it threatened only from the frantic efforts of their Governments. In other cases good cause for fear was all too apparent.
As the teeth of neutrals chattered, bitter cold hit the continent. Icy winds from the steppes blew across the Balkans, sending the temperature to —30°. In The Netherlands the earth was hard as brick; canals and flooded lands, which Holland counts on to defend her, were sheets of ice. On Belgium's eastern plateau, where the twelve modern sunken fortresses of Liege guard the route the Germans once took, caked snow crunched under the boots of marching troops. Ice crept out from the shores of the Baltic and the Gulf of Bothnia, where Russian planes bombed Sweden's Kallaks Island (see p. 30). And with the cold came fear.
Low Countries. What news stirred the high commands of Belgium and The Netherlands was not divulged. All autumn the Belgians had worked feverishly to fortify their northern frontier, and the Dutch drilled dynamite into their roadside trees, against the much-feared German invasion which might come when the ground froze. Suddenly last week, the tempo changed, Belgium ordered the fourth stage of mobilization (the first three stages were completed last September), calling up 75,000 more men and bringing her armed strength to some 600,000. Trucks loaded with supplies and soldiers rolled through Brussels while civilians piled sandbags around buildings and factories. Messengers rushed through every Belgian city, summoning officers and men from theatres, cafes, homes. Brussels had a partial blackout, something she never had during last autumn's scare. French-speaking residents of Eupen and Malmédy (ceded by Germany after World War I) were evacuated to the interior. King Leopold became active Commander in Chief of the Army.
The Netherlands Cabinet held a special meeting under old Premier Dirk Jan de Geer, decided that it would cancel all Army leaves. Since the usual Army leave is four days a month, this increased the Army's strength by some 10% to 400,000 men. The usually phlegmatic Dutch thought it necessary to point out that frozen canals were a very good defense indeed, since troops could be machine-gunned crossing them. It sounded like whistling in the dark.
Britain, which will have to defend France's northern flank if the Germans invade Belgium, canceled Army leaves. Paris, always buzzing with rumors of wars, set Jan. 20 as the date of attack—a relatively reassuring sign that nothing would happen.