The proprietress of the hotel at which I was staying had lost a son in France and another was lying wounded in a hospital in Belgium.
"The one who died," she said, "had been in England for over four years, and was here taking a holiday when the war broke out. He always used to say that he liked England better than his own country, and yet he had to go. He was killed by an English bullet."
Her story was interrupted by an unrestrained sob, and she went on: "The one in Belgium is very, very bad, and they say that (even should he live) he will be blind for life. I have got two more sons fighting down there. God knows if they will ever come back," concluded the poor woman, crying hopelessly.
The mothers, whether they be English or German, whether they sit in a factory or work in a mill, are always the first to bear the privations of war. Yet in Germany they are bearing these privations nobly indeed. The courage of their women is an example to the world.
* * *
The few police agents still to be seen in the streets of Berlin are standing outside military and public buildings. They are old men already out of service, called back as substitutes for the policemen, who were all converted into soldiers and sent to the front. Naturally the police service, which was one of the best in the world, has lost most of its efficiency—luckily for me perhaps!
In the Tiergarten large posters hang on the trees, saying that owing to the mobilisation of the police force for active service, the lovers of romantic walks at night (one of Berlin's favourite pastimes) will have to look after themselves, and that the corporation has not enough men to carry on a service of police after midnight.
The first effect of this is the enormous number of beggars in Berlin streets—women and children, and old and crippled men—standing at the street corners, or sitting in long rows on the outer steps of churches, and telling long tales of husbands, fathers, sons at the war, of miseries of every kind. Even about this, the Berlin Corporation, always fond of giving tips to the public, has issued another proclamation, which reads:—
Don't give anything to people in the streets asking for help. Nobody starves in Berlin. There are free distributions of bread, soup, and potatoes in all quarters of the town. The money you can spare for charity should be sent to the Relief Committee; this will ensure that such institutions are kept going. The beggars are only trying to make money out of your sympathy, and their tales of misfortune, in most cases, are absolutely false.
Unemployment seems to have increased enormously, especially for women, owing to the fact that most manufacturers have closed down their works, either for lack of raw material or for lack of demand. In some other industries where women cannot take the place of men workers are badly needed. I have been told that unemployment is even greater in the northern towns. The toy-making and fancy goods industries are almost entirely stopped, as the stores are full of goods prepared for the usual exportation, which is, this year, entirely paralysed.