GERMAN GREAT HEADQUARTERS IN FRANCE, Dec. 9.—I have just eaten my way along the German front in France, for a second visit to the German Great Headquarters. This week's lunch and dinner "bag" included Gen. von Heeringen, "the Victor of Saarburg"; Gen. von Emmich, "the Conqueror of Liége"; Gen. von Zwehl, "the Hero of Maubeuge"; Gen. von Wild, the new Quartermaster General, who before his appointment fought a twenty-round draw with the English at Ypres, though he thinks he won on points, and hosts of coming champions.
It is literally necessary for an American correspondent on this side of the fence to eat his way to the firing line and back again, for the German afield is as hospitable as the tented Arab, and, thanks to their wonderful field telephone service, they "have you." The A.O.K. (Armee Ober Kommando) telephones to the Corps Kommando that you are on the way, the Corps Kommando relays the news to the Division Staff, the Division Staff rings up the Regimental Commander, who 'phones the Battalion or Battery Chief. To reach the firing line you have to run the gauntlet of anywhere from three to six meals, and if you happen to be one of those "amazing Americans" and insist on being shown to an orchestra seat in the first trench, you will be sure to find some sort of a table spread for you in the very shadow of death, for their habit of hospitality is fireproof.
But while robbing war corresponding of all its old-time romance, the German, gastronomic way has the great advantage of giving you the maximum of information in the minimum of time and of letting you meet the masters of modern warfare, the men who have done big things, under ideal conditions, for over after-dinner coffee and cigars you can and will—if you are an American—ask the most imprudent questions with the certainty of getting a good-natured and courteous answer.
Von Emmich makes the most instant appeal to an American. Short and stockily built and looking every inch a fighter, he gives you the impression of possessing tremendous, almost Rooseveltian vitality, with a saving sense of humor. Von Emmich is the General with a winning smile. He could have been a successful machine politician if he had emigrated to America instead of remaining in Germany and becoming the most popular General in the German Army, among the men, for he has the rare gift of inspiring his followers with a sense of personal loyalty. His troops idolize him. They break out into hearty hurrahs at the slightest provocation when they see him. It is lèse-majesté, but none the less true, to say that they think as much of their General as of their Kaiser. They tell you proudly that he rode at their head when the City of Liége was taken by storm, and after seeing him you could never picture von Emmich bringing up the rear in a motor car, after the manner that more prudent Generals use. He has iron-gray hair and a bristly, close-cropped mustache to match, and a very florid complexion, and looks absolutely unlike the sleek individual whose photograph was published with his obituary notice in the London press while the forts of Liége were still "holding out" on paper.
Asked point blank, Gen. von Emmich stoutly and with great good humor denied that he had ever committed suicide or even contemplated the step.
"But you know, Excellency, that you were reported to have lost something like 120,000 men before Liége," it was suggested.
"That's three times as many as I had," he answered with the "winning smile."
Gen. von Emmich will talk quite freely about anything but himself and military matters, but a few odds and ends were snapped up. It was interesting to learn that he was in Liége only a day and a half, then pushed on ahead in the direction of Namur with the bulk of his corps, leaving only his heavy artillery behind to finish up the remaining forts. He did not even know that Zeppelins had taken part in the bombardment of these forts until he heard about it afterward. Later he turned up at Mons and had a hand in beating the British or expediting their strategic retreat, according to the point of view. His subsequent movements and present whereabouts are interesting, but would never pass the German censor.
"Did you feel proud at being selected to lead the way into Belgium, Excellency?" I inquired.
"Yes, of course I did," he replied.