What I Saw in Berlin and Other European Capitals During Wartime

by Piermarini

The almost unlimited confidence of German people in their army has certainly been shaken during the last few months, and though nobody will frankly admit that things are going badly, I have observed a difference between the way they used to talk and the way they talk now.

I do not want to be misunderstood; if a Berliner is asked directly, "Do you think you are going to win?" the answer will come pat, "Yes, we are certain of it." But if you go on talking you will detect from the way in which the man tries to avoid certain subjects, and how he sighs when some others—namely, the Navy and the Crown Prince—come into the discussion, that the beautiful assurance of former days is gone, and that some small cracks in the war organisation begin to be evident even to his eyes. He begins to doubt the prestige of the German army, the destiny of the German race, and the perfection of the military organisation of his country. It is not a question of colour, but of shade, and it is evident that something has changed.

As for the officers, the men of the upper classes, and the people who have realised since the beginning of the war how hard was the task Germany had undertaken, they go ahead in their military, diplomatic, or simply private work, not daring to look too far. They prefer to die, to disappear before the downfall of their country. It is impossible not to admire them. Most of the officers of Bavarian or Silesian descent are fighting for those who have formerly been their oppressors, and for the supremacy of that Prussia which has killed the independence of their country.

Yet they are sacrificing themselves in a war about the final result of which very few entertain illusions.

The officers and non-commissioned officers who were injured at the beginning of the campaign, and who are so mutilated that they would be of no use at the front, are drilling the new recruits, or making themselves as useful as they can. But practically none have left the army or even taken a temporary leave.

A friend of mine whom I visited in hospital ten weeks ago has now had his foot amputated. But his spirit is not crushed, and he is now drilling recruits at a fortress near Stettin.

Everybody feels Germany cannot waste a single man. Most young men who had been refused for physical imperfections in former years have now been accepted. The fact that most classes of the Landsturm have not been called up yet does not mean that there is no need for them, but only that they are composed of men who, on account of their age and lack of experience and fitness would be of no practical efficiency on the battlefield.

I saw in Berlin some sturdy, strong-looking chaps who looked quite fit to bear arms still in mufti and attending to their usual professions. I asked an officer the reason of this astonishing fact.

"Don't you believe it," he answered me smiling; "such fellows follow an employment which must be covered even in wartime, namely, a job in one of the war-office departments, or else they are not as fit as they look and for some reason or other would be of no use to the army. Besides that, all fit men are as keen on serving in the army as we are in taking them up."