Free Darkest England by Christopher Hope Page B

head and sighed, was seldom much good for England. Once again, they had pioneered an original idea and the world took it over. After jeering at the rescue of Dicky, and condemning the rescue of Tiny Alma, suddenly everyone wanted orphans of opportunity.
    Gallic ingrates, Hunnish hordes, Iberian aboriginals, Eytie half-breeds. Greasers, Wops, Frogs, and Fritzes began competing for orphans from this savage little war which no one had even noticed until the rescuing of Tiny Alma.All over the war-zone children now became targets for competitive benevolence. This new battle was fought with special offers of French dolls, German dresses, Belgian chocolates. In some cases competing nations were even offering free education for life, where target victims survived.
    But an even nastier element now crept into the war for Tiny Alma. The appearance of the victim began to tell, for or against survival. Plainer children were increasingly unpopular. The cry went out for the pretty ones.
    It was then, said Minehost, that his country had put forward the idea of equal access. Wounded children must be properly displayed, in a decent light, so that the clients might see, clearly, what they were getting. For some hospitals, anxious to attract attention from rich consumer nations, were passing off children with little chance of survival as suitable cases for treatment. Often these children died before one got them home. It was a bad business. Since consumer nations measured success by live showings, losing children meant losing face. Monstrous, was it not? Well, they put forward a plan, explained Minehost, in terms of which foreign hospitals in war-zones were asked to sign a code of conduct. Those wishing to place less popular children – say, the blind or the paraplegic – were obliged to indicate the life expectancy of each child; those past this date could be offered at a discount or given away in batches, thereby allowing poorer countries, anxious to upgrade their compassion ratings, to take, for example, three somewhat plain meningitis victims for the price of one pretty, less severely wounded, child. We enhanced market opportunities by letting poorer players take a share of the action, Minehost explained. Levelled the playing field. Was that not an achievement of which the nation could be proud?
    I said it was a solution of sheer genius.
    Not so much genius as groceries, said Mr Geoff modestly. They had been playing to their strengths. Like good grocers, they applied the idea of loss-leaders to the compassionate market-place. As a result they hoped – indeed, they had insisted – that many more Tiny Almas stood a chance of survival.
    Yet once again the English fell victim to their own generosity and the cruelty of alien cultures. They had believed that their invitation to send us ‘lots and lots more Tiny Almas’ would be understood and honoured. Alas, the innocence of the island race! When planes began arriving from the war-zone, several young men were found hiding among the wounded children. Some were blind. Others could not walk. What on earth was to be done with them? People disguised their disappointment as well as they could and made, as they say, ‘the best of a bad job’. Hospital beds were found, and cigarettes, pyjamas, books and the finest medical attention in the world.
    This state of affairs might have gone on indefinitely had not one of the wounded young men – in an unguarded moment – told his doctor that he had half his face blown away while defending his town against an enemy attack. Then a second young man admitted he had lost a leg while on patrol in a minefield which the attackers had sown around his town. Suddenly the shabby secret was out. Alerted by an ever-vigilant press – fiercer, finer, freer than any in the world – across the country the dismal recognition dawned: ‘They’ve sent us soldiers!’
    Naturally, the surgeons, who had been the first to discover