His Winter Wheat
Directly after the declaration of war, in 1870, an old friend met Count Moltke on the street, and remarked:
“You must be overburdened with work just now!”
“Oh no,” was the cold-blooded answer, “the work was all done beforehand. All orders are issued, and I have really nothing to do!”
A few minutes later, he met a merchant, with whom he had done business at Kreisau, who asked him anxiously about the outlook. “Well,” said the old Field-Marshal in his mildest tone, “I am quite content; my barley crop, it is true, was only middling, but my crop of winter wheat promises to be immense and that, as you know, is the main thing.”