IV—AT TEA WITH BARON ROEDER
June 3d.
To-day, the flags are all out for the naval victory, even the trams and buses are decorated. The Germans didn't wish to celebrate until they were quite sure. They've made one or two mistakes, so they were cautious this time. The school-children take a real interest in German victories. They get a holiday on the strength of one, and they measure the victory only by the length of their holiday. The joy is slightly adulterated by having to go to school first and listen to a careful explanation of what they are about to celebrate. Their fondness for Hindenburg is quite immoderate. In the eyes of German children, a campaign against the Russians is a most praiseworthy undertaking.
The great wooden statue of Hindenburg, encased in geranium plants and scaffolding, had many nails driven into it to-day. The statue is an unsightly thing, but it seems to appeal to the Berliners to buy a nail for the benefit of the Red Cross, climb the scaffolding, and hammer it in....
Lunched with the Jacksons. Mr. Jackson was Secretary of the Embassy here for years. The Germans trust him, Baron von Mumm told me. Baron and Baroness Roeder were there and Countess Götzen. I asked Baron Roeder what he did and he said he was Master of Ceremonies at Court, and official introducer, and a lot of other things. He is about seventy-five, but he says he is going to the front if the war keeps up much longer. Already he has offered himself three times. His chief irritation against England is being cut off from his London tailor. Every German I meet out of uniform tells the same sad tale. The old gentleman said he thought the naval victory was due principally to Zeppelins. The Blüchers joined us for coffee. Count Blücher looks like the pictures of his famous grandparent. Princess —— said that his father is a dreadful old gentleman, fights with everyone, his son included, all the time. As the old Prince is eighty-five, the relations had better run around and turn the other cheek before it's too late.