The aerial services are also being reorganised, and recently some new aeroplanes were bought in Italy, and it is said that shortly Greece will also have some large modern dirigibles. The merit of such important reforms belongs especially to King Constantine himself, who remained Commander-in-Chief of the Army even after his assumption of the throne. He understood that the next war would be the decisive one for Greece, and with wonderful activity he has managed to bring his country to the height of the situation. * * * _On board the Stagyra._ It is really most refreshing, after having visited a country like Turkey, to spend a few hours in Athens. Everything here seems young and fresh and full of vitality. It seems as though the spirit of the golden times of old Greece has suddenly returned after a long period of torpor. The _Stagyra_ has just left harbour, and is now sailing in the Ionian Sea. A French cruiser has just approached our boat, and has told us to be careful, as floating mines have often been found in this locality during the last few weeks, and now makes her way at our side. Only yesterday, I am told, a Corfu sailing boat had been sunk by a mine, and only two of the crew were saved. I have been on deck as much as possible because of the scenery, and also because of the fearful smell downstairs. The Roumanian captain is at my side and keeps telling me his worries; this is probably the last journey of the _Stagyra_, as he has no hope of being able to go back to Constanza now the Straits are closed and there is war in the Black Sea. "And what are you going to do, now, when you have reached Marseilles, if you can't go back to your country?" "My men and I have already decided to enlist in France. We are all well-trained and very good shots." He answered as if this was the most natural thing to do. * * * It is just daybreak, and we are going through the Strait of Messina. At our side, instead of the French cruiser, which has left us upon our entering Italian territorial waters, is now the imposing mass of an Italian warship, the _Vittor Pisani_, anchored in the bay. On the Sicilian coast Messina smiles, surrounded by woods of oranges loaded with golden fruit. After the terrible catastrophe of four years ago, the former monumental town has assumed the quiet, modest, village-like look of a Japanese seaport. How far removed we are from those moments when the brute forces of Nature made all nations on earth meet here to relieve the sorrow of the stricken country in the noblest of competitions, and gave the world the momentary illusion of a wide sense of brotherhood amongst all peoples. Still, even now, by the side of the Union Jack which floats over the English relief-fund building, the tricolour of Germany waves to the morning breeze. FOOTNOTE: [1] Where I had the fortune to come across the man who had never heard of the war. CHAPTER V