“I used to play at soldiers when I was only three years old. You can’t begin too early. My very earliest impressions were of drums, sabres, manœuvres, words of command: that’s the way to awaken the love for the trade, that’s the way.”
“My son Rudolf shall never join the army,” I interrupted.
“Martha! I know at least it was his father’s wish.”
“Poor Arno is no more. Rudolf is all I have, and I do not choose——”
“That he should join the noblest and most honourable of professions?”
“The life of my only child shall not be gambled for in a war.”
“I was an only son also and became a soldier. Arno had no brothers, as far as I know, and your brother Otto is also an only son, yet I have sent him to the Military Academy. The tradition of our family requires that the offspring of a Dotzky and an Althaus should devote his services to his country.”
“His country will not want him as much as I.”
“Then there would be no more parades and reviews, no walls of men to batter down, no ‘food for powder,’ as the common expression for them goes. And that would be far from a misfortune.”