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J 
 
DEAR FATHERLAND 
 
BY THE SAME AUTHOR 
 LIFE IN A GARRISON TOWN 
 
 With a Preface written by the 
 Author whilst in London, and an 
 Introduction^ by Arnold White, 
 and a Portrait. 
 
DEAR 
 FATHERLAND 
 
 By 
 EX-LIEUTENANT BILSE 
 
 JOHN LANE THE BODLEY HEAD 
 LONDON AND NEW YORK MDCCCCV 
 
Copyright in U.S.A. 
 By John Lane, 1904 
 
 William Clowes & Sons. Limited, Printers, London 
 

 DEAR FATHERLAND 
 
 L 170 
 
Dear Fatherland, 
 
 Chapter I 
 
 THERE had been a storm in the Koehler 
 family. This was no rare occurrence. 
 Ever since the Major had come to grief, 
 and was left with nothing but a nominal 
 pension and his military title to take with him into 
 civilian life, he had become one of those soured and 
 discontented people who, looking back over the glamour 
 of their career, fondly imagine that the very moment 
 when it has all perforce come to an end, was the begin- 
 ning of the best time of all ; that fate has dealt specially 
 hardly with them, and that they are the only people 
 whom the world's injustice has robbed of their ideals 
 and cheated of their expectations. Such was the old 
 Major. Who, at one time, would have thought of saying 
 to the smart lieutenant, whose love for his gay uniform 
 was deeply rooted in his heart, the favourite of the 
 regiment, the enfant gdt^ of society, the most capable 
 officer on the drilling ground, with all the doors of a 
 soldier's paradise open to him, who would have thought 
 of saying, " This is all vain splendour, a passing dream ; 
 you too will soon be treading the well-worn path to the 
 military Tartarus, where there is weeping and gnashing 
 of teeth, poor living, hopeless boredom, and nothing but 
 vain regrets ; whilst above you hangs, far out of reach, 
 your former heaven, peopled by the despised inferiors 
 who have usurped your place, and are decorated with the 
 honours you had vainly hoped might be yours." 
 
 I B 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 Unfortunately, during some manoeuvres, he had led 
 his company round a forest instead of through it, and 
 was forced to bury his dreams of a brilliant future then 
 and there, for the General had criticised his action so 
 severely that it was an unmistakable hint to send in his 
 papers. 
 
 He had buried his ambitions ; but it was the fact of 
 his having buried them alive that made his existence so 
 unbearable. The once gay and pleasure-loving lieu- 
 tenant had turned into a hypochondriac, a permanently- 
 discontented being who in the morning longed for the 
 evening, and when night came, tormented himself with 
 dreams of the unattainable ; without sufficient energy to 
 take up some definite work, and strive with all his 
 strength to distract his thoughts. The soldier was so 
 deeply ingrained in him that when the Colonel's birthday 
 came round, the only day in the year on which he was 
 permitted to don his beloved uniform once more, he 
 preferred to leave it hanging in the cupboard, because 
 he could not bear the thought of having to take it off 
 again. 
 
 To-day Major Koehler was striding restlessly up and 
 down the three rooms, which opened out of one another, 
 in his humble abode, with a most alarming expression 
 on his face, rapping out the same oath every time he 
 passed through the doors, and the ends of his stiff 
 military moustache came in contact with the curtain 
 tassels ; then he would turn half angrily, half pityingly 
 to his wife, who was sitting, with her hands in her lap 
 and her eyes full of tears, silently staring out of the 
 window at the rain ; or he would throw an anxious glance 
 
 Z 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 in the direction of his two daughters, huddled up in the 
 corner of the room like two whipped puppies, gazing at 
 each other with nervous and helpless apprehension. 
 
 Benno had got into debt. There it was, clearly 
 written in the half-torn letter lying on the table, at which 
 the old man now and then cast a furious glance. 
 
 " I therefore hope," ended this unfortunate communi- 
 cation from the Colonel, " that you are in a position to 
 get your son out of a very unpleasant situation by a 
 speedy settlement of his debts." 
 
 It was easy for him to talk, easy to hope ! Where 
 was the money to come from, short of stealing it ? For 
 this was not the first time that rascal Benno had hved 
 beyond his means during the five years he had been a 
 lieutenant. Last time it was fifty pounds, this time it was 
 a hundred and fifty pounds. No, it would not do ! Only 
 that morning he had had to refuse Lilly, his youngest 
 and favourite daughter, her request for a new summer 
 frock, and had himself long ago given up his mid-day 
 cigar because the housekeeping money never sufficed ; his 
 wife, too, had been wearing the same dress all last year, 
 although it was hideously ugly and tasteless. And was 
 he now to throw away one hundred and fifty pounds on 
 this scapegrace, whilst he — whilst he — the old Major 
 paused, and remained pondering deeply for a few 
 moments. Then, picking up the letter from the table, 
 he strode, this time forgetting to swear at the curtain 
 tassels, straight into the next room, shutting the door 
 after him. A short while afterwards his wife also got 
 up and, sighing deeply, walked across to the kitchen to 
 prepare the mid-day meal. Lilly took up her fancy 
 
 3 B 2 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 work, and Edith went on peeling the potatoes out of the 
 pail which stood at her feet. Apparently this was not 
 one of her favourite occupations, for the expression on 
 her white over-tired face, with the thin, firmly closed lips, 
 was plainly one of repugnance. Now and then she would 
 pause in her work and gaze thoughtfully into space, 
 starting up as though out of a dream, every time a potato 
 slipped from her hands and fell back into the pail with a 
 loud splash. 
 
 Edith was the blue-stocking of the family. She hated 
 men with all the strength of her twenty-two years, looking 
 upon them as superfluous beings who did nothing but 
 cause their female belongings trouble and disappoint- 
 ment, and who were besides, from her point of view, 
 intellectually far behind women. She spoke three 
 languages fluently, had by her father's express wish " in 
 case of emergency," passed the examination necessary 
 for a school-mistress, knew every production of modern 
 literature, and wrote impassioned articles on women's 
 rights in a lady's paper. But this was not evident from 
 her outward appearance. For with her short-cropped 
 hair, the hard and masculine set of her lips, her deep 
 voice, and her awkward, almost clumsy movements, 
 one might have taken her for a self-conscious male 
 student in female attire, rather than for a young woman, 
 in whose breast, instead of the tender emotions attributed 
 to her sex, there raged a continual warfare against 
 sentimentality, and all the natural feminine affections, 
 which, although they struggled for existence, were kept 
 severely in the background by this example of the third 
 sex. To compare her with rosy-cheeked Lilly, who, 
 
 4 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 bending over her work, was continually obliged to smooth 
 back an obstreperous lock of her fair silky hair from the 
 childish face with its dark eyes, which tried so hard to look 
 serious, but were always lit up by suppressed laughter, 
 was like comparing two plants, one of which had grown 
 up in the sunshine, the other in the shade. One could 
 have appropriately called them Prose and Poetry, as they 
 sat there side by side, each intent on her thoughts. 
 Only when the Major's regular footfall was heard in the 
 next room — a sign that, according to his custom, he was 
 treading the path of meditation— did Edith look up from 
 her monotonous work, and glancing across at Lilly with 
 none too friendly an expression, said with a deep sigh : 
 
 " Well, this is a nice look out for us again." 
 
 Lilly did not reply, but merely looked interrogation 
 at her sister. 
 
 This apparent indifference aggravated Edith, who 
 added almost angrily : 
 
 " I really believe you don't care one bit about it ! 
 Anyone would think that it was a pleasure to have to 
 put up with papa's dreadful tempers for weeks." 
 
 "My dear Edith, I should have thought that was 
 one of the least of our troubles," replied Lilly rather 
 nervously. "You cannot blame papa for being upset. 
 I'm sure I only wish I could think of some way of 
 helping Benno." 
 
 " Help Benno, of course ! " repeated Edith mockingly. 
 " Do not forget to give him an extra kiss for his heroic 
 deeds when he condescends to come home, will you } I, 
 at any rate, shall not take his part, I can tell you that." 
 
 " That will be nothing new to him," answered Lilly, 
 
 5 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 sighing deeply. " You have never put yourself out for 
 love of him." 
 
 " Thank goodness, no ! " replied Edith crossly, throw- 
 ing a potato in the pail with such violence that the water 
 splashed all over her. " Has he ever deserved it ? I, 
 for one, have had enough of this everlasting state of 
 starvation, in order that the wonderful Benno should 
 travel first class and drink the best wines. I simply 
 cannot understand papa — a sound box on the ears would 
 do Benno a lot of good," she added under her breath. 
 
 " You know quite well," replied Lilly, " that Benno 
 never spends more than he can help ; he simply cannot 
 shirk the things which are expected of him in his 
 position." 
 
 " Expected of him ! That's a good way of putting 
 it ! How can it be expected of a man to spend £ 1 50 
 when he has not got it } Still, perhaps you are right ; I 
 suppose they are what are called the duties of position." 
 
 " Of course, that's just it, and they are the things 
 which Benno cannot possibly avoid." 
 
 " Just so ! Then papa had no right to force him 
 into a profession which makes it necessary for him to 
 squander other people's money instead of earning some- 
 thing himself. It is simply idiotic ! " 
 
 " You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Edith ! " 
 Lilly retorted hotly. " You know quite well that it was 
 papa's and auntie's dearest wish that Benno should 
 go into the army ; besides, it is one of the family 
 traditions." 
 
 " What do I care for family traditions which will only 
 end by starving us, and which prevent us poor girls from 
 
 6 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 earning our own bread ? If Aunt Stanzchen was not 
 everlastingly worrying papa about it, I should have been 
 earning my own living long ago, free from all these 
 everlasting worries." 
 
 " Edith, you speak as though you had no spark of 
 good feeling in your heart ! " 
 
 "Thank goodness I have cured myself of all that 
 sort of thing by degrees ! I have quite made up my 
 mind what I shall do, and have not the slightest intention 
 of being bullied any longer ; in the future I shall go my 
 own way ! " 
 
 "For heaven's sake do not do that, Edith," Lilly 
 implored in a tearful voice, getting up and going across 
 to her sister. " You will only create more unpleasantness 
 by giving vent to your anger towards Aunt Stanzchen. 
 We must see what we can do. Do let us think things 
 over calmly." 
 
 " That's right, howl away, you old cry-baby ! " said 
 Edith, who was quite indifferent to, not to say bored by, 
 this exhibition of feeling on Lilly's part. *' I am sick to 
 death of this everlasting weeping over everything that 
 goes on in the family. . . I shall take myself off, away 
 from home." She spoke the last words under her breath, 
 got up, and after taking off her apron and folding it, 
 seized the bucket of potatoes and walked towards the 
 door, throwing a very disagreeable look in the direction 
 of her sister. She had barely grasped the handle when 
 the door opened and the much-abused Aunt Stanzchen 
 sailed into the room, with a still graceful carriage despite 
 her sixty-two years, and a cheerful greeting on her lips. 
 The two girls glanced guiltily at one another, as people 
 
 7 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 do when they are caught in some act of wrongdoing ; but 
 quickly recovering their self-possession, accorded her the 
 expected kiss on her gloved hand, which she received in 
 a most regal manner, and, having deposited her pug in 
 the best arm-chair, sat down carefully on a straight- 
 backed chair herself, arranging the folds of her black 
 satin skirt with great care, loosening the violet bonnet- 
 strings under her chin and thoughtfully smoothing the 
 parted hair, which came down over her ears like blinkers. 
 Aunt Constance, known for short in the family as 
 Aunt Stanzchen, was the heiress of the late von Koehler. 
 To the secret chagrin of all her relations she retained a 
 quite exceptional amount of mental and physical vigour, 
 and clung with such tenacity to life that she would cer- 
 tainly have disinherited all of them had she suspected 
 for a moment that the three generations had all in turn 
 bewailed this sad but unalterable fact. In the mean- 
 while they were particularly affectionate towards her, 
 called all her innumerable fads and fancies " charming 
 eccentricities," nursed her to death when she had an 
 attack of hay fever in the summer, and treated the 
 disagreeable pug like a human being, the Major's wife 
 even going so far as cheerfully to sacrifice to it a piece 
 of the cold sausage reserved for her husband's supper. 
 
 In her youth Aunt Stanzchen had been engaged to a 
 Count, but had been forced to give up her dreams of 
 becoming a " high-bom " lady when her beloved offered 
 his heart and hand to her prettier cousin. All the same, 
 she had never quite got over it, and occasionally treated 
 her dutifully attentive audience of relatives to a poetical 
 effusion on the lost lover, delivered in a voice trembling 
 
 8 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 with emotion. Finally she was extremely miserly, 
 except in the cause of charity. Poor relations often had 
 cause to feel envious at seeing Aunt Stanzchen give 
 away 500 pairs of woollen stockings to orphan children, 
 whilst they themselves had to go about with theirs full 
 of holes and darns. But there was one thing which 
 ranked before all others in Aunt Stanzchen's mind, and 
 that was "family tradition." For "family tradition" 
 she lived and died — at least, she professed to do so ; her 
 failing to fulfil the latter clause was the cause of almost 
 as much abuse as her persistency in clinging to the 
 former. It was purely for the sake of tradition that she 
 treasured up and wore impossible clothes which were 
 made in the fashion of her day, and had the family arms 
 embroidered in colours on everything, down to the pug's 
 waterproof jacket, and there were uncharitable people 
 who maintained that it was even worked on the hem of 
 garments which, owing to conventionality, were not 
 visible to the public gaze. But she was specially strict 
 about keeping up traditions as shown by the family tree, 
 for the Koehlers prided themselves on having been a 
 good old family even as far back as the Middle Ages. 
 What then was more natural than that Benno, from the 
 moment of his birth, was destined to become a lieutenant 
 in one of the best and consequently most expensive 
 regiments, or that she should be shocked beyond 
 measure when Edith showed a desire to be a governess, 
 and to come in contact with the lower ten thousand, 
 simply because she was possessed by the fixed idea of 
 earning her own bread single-handed. She was charmed 
 with Lilly, who, as her aunt fondly imagined, showed 
 
 9 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 her sense of what was due to the family by continually 
 refusing the proposals of a very middle-class lieutenant 
 who had been courting her for years. As a matter of 
 fact they had been secretly engaged a long time, but if 
 Aunt Stanzchen had discovered this, or that her niece was 
 in the habit of sending one piece of work after another to 
 the Officer's Charitable Association, receiving money in 
 exchange, she would have had a fainting fit, as she did 
 whenever the Major let fall one of his favourite barrack- 
 room oaths. 
 
 Stanzchen's flute-like voice did not escape the Major's 
 ear ; he was not in the mood to listen to the chatter of 
 this ** old crank " for an hour on end — she never left 
 under that length of time. All the same, she appeared 
 to him to-day in the light of a dea ex machina, who was 
 capable of saving the situation by the strength of her 
 purse. He could see no other way out of it ; Stanzchen 
 must disburse, or Benno must doff his gay uniform. 
 Accordingly he went into the sitting-room, appearing to 
 be overcome with surprise and pleasure at finding such a 
 welcome visitor, and kissed her right hand. She took a 
 particular delight in the Major's salute, maintaining that 
 the people of her own generation were the only ones 
 who understood the art of kissing the hand with any 
 real grace. 
 
 " You here .? " said the Major, so heartily that 
 his daughters exchanged astonished glances. "You 
 are quite a stranger ! May I enquire after your 
 health ? " 
 
 " It might be better," murmured Stanzchen languidly. 
 " One cannot help getting older ! " 
 
 lO 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 This was no unwelcome piece of news for the Major, 
 who replied jocularly — 
 
 " I maintain the opposite ! If you go on getting 
 much younger I shall be greeting you in your swaddling 
 clothes." 
 
 Now Aunt Stanzchen thought it very bad taste to 
 mention swaddling clothes, but all the same the compli- 
 ment struck her as being so very witty and charming 
 that she smiled sweetly and replied — 
 
 " You are, and will always remain, a rogue, but all 
 the same a dear rogue." 
 
 The Major thereupon playfully kissed his hand to 
 her, which piece of gallantry was acknowledged coquet- 
 tishly by the old lady. 
 
 " By the way, Benno wrote to-day and sent his love 
 especially to you ! " said the Major with an air of having 
 hitherto forgotten some important communication. 
 
 " He sent his love to me } The dear boy ! " piped 
 Stanzchen, greatly touched. " I should so like to do 
 something for him and give him some pleasure." 
 
 " Send him a bank-note, then ; he would be overcome 
 with joy," laughed Koehler meaningly. 
 
 But Aunt Stanzchen replied stiffly — 
 
 " Where am I to get bank-notes from in my impecu- 
 nious state } As it is I do not know how I shall ever 
 pay my taxes ! " 
 
 " Well, the people who have a lot of taxes generally 
 have a lot of money. I have neither the one nor the 
 other." 
 
 Aunt Stanzchen was ill at ease. She felt that she 
 was in the uncomfortable position of a person who must 
 
 II 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 say B, because they have said A ; so after rocking 
 herself to and fro in her chair for a while, she said 
 hesitatingly : — 
 
 " If you mean that it will be of any use to Benno, I 
 can send him a trifle, but " 
 
 "Why 'but'?" 
 
 " Well, then, does he require it so badly ? " 
 
 " A lieutenant is always in need of money," answered 
 the Major, " especially when he is in debt." 
 
 Words failed Aunt Stanzchen. Her horrified gaze 
 rested on the Major's face, her eyes became larger and 
 larger, and at last she managed to stammer hoarsely : 
 
 " Has . . . our Benno . . . your Benno . . . debts ? " 
 
 *' If you have no objection, yes. Perhaps you would 
 like to read this .? " 
 
 Aunt Stanzchen wished to refuse, but the Major had 
 already put the letter from Benno's Colonel in her lap, 
 so that there was nothing left for her to do but to pick 
 it up and read it. During the process she turned alter- 
 nately white and red, and at the conclusion let it fall to 
 the ground with a deep sigh, showing all symptoms of 
 fainting, and dropping a tear on the silk dress. But 
 for once these manoeuvres failed in their object, for the 
 Major, who was striding up and down, took no notice, 
 but asked in his categorical manner : 
 
 " Can you raise that sum by to-morrow .? " 
 
 " I " — groaned Stanzchen — " I ? Good heavens, I 
 have not got it ! " 
 
 "No? Nor I," said the Major, and leaving Aunt 
 Stanzchen sitting there, he went back to his room, 
 shutting the door behind him with an audible slam. 
 
 12 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 He was experiencing it all over again ; the kind 
 friends and helpful relations with their mouths so full of 
 good wishes and friendly words, who all give out like a 
 machine which has been asked to do more than it can 
 manage ; they, like it, are wanting in willingness. Very 
 miserable and on the verge of tears, the poor old Major 
 sat down in his worn-out armchair to think it over. 
 There was no help to be obtained anywhere now. The 
 game was up. Benno must share the lot of the hundreds 
 who every year die the bitter death of failure — those who 
 at one time^are numbered amongst the countless shining 
 planets of the military firmament, and who the next 
 moment fall and disappear into the darkness of the night 
 like shooting stars. No one mourns for them, new stars 
 shine in their places, and the old ones — what becomes of 
 them } 
 
 Happily Koehler was a fatalist. Fate had taught 
 him always to look for some good in everything. Who 
 knows } perhaps it was a piece of luck, an intentional 
 ordinance of fate, that Benno should be forced to give up 
 the old life, in which perhaps he was not destined to 
 attain any great age, whilst he still possessed the youth 
 and strength to start a new one. 
 
 He thought of his own fate. It had certainly been 
 bitterly hard, for it had come upon him at the wrong 
 time — too late to start afresh, too early to die. He gazed 
 sadly at the opposite wall. The sword, helmet, sash, 
 epaulettes, all the ornaments he had worn till he had 
 become grey, hung there covered with dust and rust, 
 seeming to say : We were merely intended to show you 
 happiness ; it was a mistake to try and grasp it. 
 
 13 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 " It is true," he thought to himself, " he who is 
 fortunate enough to be born under the silk canopy of a 
 princely bed, or in sonie ancestral castle, can safely leave 
 himself in the hands of fate. All the muses and fairies 
 stand by his cradle, and dispense their gifts lavishly over 
 the young worldling, amongst others, if necessary, the 
 talent needful for the making of a general. But the 
 one who is born in obscurity, at whose cradle Dame 
 Sorrow and the veiled Fates have stood sponsors, will, 
 even if he achieves a certain rank and success in life, 
 have a continual struggle for his happiness, earning it 
 only through his own hard work, his capacity for making 
 the best of his opportunities, or his complete under- 
 standing of the art of making up for any gifts which 
 Nature has not bestowed on him by clever acting. 
 With Harlequin's wand he must blind the eyes of all 
 doubters, unless he would wander aimlessly along the 
 rough paths of life, which for the " high-born " folk are 
 cleared of every hindering stone by kind and influential 
 friends and relations. But every one has not such 
 ministering angels, and must perish for lack of them. 
 
 The old wound in the Major's heart began to bleed 
 afresh, and, added to the pain rankling there, a growing 
 resentment against those who had ruined him began to 
 take possession of him. Had he not always done his 
 duty, and spared no effort to perform his work 
 thoroughly.-* Had he not always earned praise and 
 achieved good results, the fruits of which were now 
 enjoyed by another, probably owing to his name being 
 of more importance, or to his being lucky enough to 
 be a favourite with the authorities through the judicious 
 
 14 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 flattering of his superiors ? But was it not shameful to 
 think that all this sort of thing should exist in a profession 
 where so much depends on the thoroughness of the indi- 
 vidual, and where promotion should only be the result 
 of personal merit ? 
 
 Who could give back to those who were ousted from 
 their places the youth and strength which they had 
 squandered in preparing a comfortable berth for some- 
 one else ? 
 
 Raised to the highest ranks in society, filled with all 
 sorts of prejudices, with a supreme contempt for all 
 their contemporaries in other professions, crammed with 
 ideas of their own importance, brought up in a mental 
 groove from which they can never quite depart, they 
 have suddenly to enter that lower sphere of the con- 
 tented, striving middle-class and prosperous officials, 
 on whom they have hitherto looked down with com- 
 passion from their high estate, and have to spend the 
 rest of their existence on a paltry pension, filled with 
 vain regrets and resentment. 
 
 The Major had become really angry and strode up 
 and down the room in his excitement, tugging nervously 
 at the ends of his moustache. It was not until his eyes 
 fell on Benno's portrait, which hung on the wall over the 
 writing-table, that it suddenly occurred to him what had 
 started his train of thought. Surely it was of his 
 son he should have been thinking, not of himself. He 
 gazed pityingly at the picture. Was not the greatest 
 disappointment of his life awaiting the young fellow ; 
 the same sorrow which his father had experienced in his 
 day ? Poor fellow ! He could not find it in his heart 
 
 15 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 to blame him. After all, it was fate, and perhaps it 
 would not be quite so hard for Benno, who, he knew, had 
 not donned the King's uniform with the same enthusiasm 
 as his father before him. That elevating feeling of 
 pride in his nationality, which was one of the greatest 
 mainstays of the army, had never been very strong in 
 Benno, neither had he ever possessed that inexhaustible 
 and necessary fund of satisfaction and keen pleasure in 
 all the ups and downs of military life. He was unfortun- 
 ately only one in a vast multitude to whom the external 
 glamour, the charm of certain privileges, and the much- 
 envied and luxurious life, had ceased to be novelties, and 
 were looked upon merely in the light of a fit recompense 
 for all the annoyances and troubles, the compulsory 
 servitude, and the many inconveniences of their pro- 
 fession. It was true that this state of things was not 
 satisfactory, but it was nobody's affair, certainly not 
 Benno's ; therefore . . . was it not better he should get 
 out of it .? the sooner the better } 
 
 The old man, having at last argued it all out satis- 
 factorily with himself, sat down at his writing-table, 
 stared thoughtfully in front of him for a moment, then, 
 picking out a large sheet of note-paper, began to write. 
 When he had written one page, he paused again as 
 though something important had suddenly occurred to 
 him, and putting his pen down, began to meditate 
 afresh. 
 
 It was easy enough to say : Benno shall send in his 
 papers — but how was he to start laying the foundations 
 of a new career .? A retired lieutenant was unfortunately 
 not of much more account than the cast-off wheel of a 
 
 i6 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 machine which, useless by itself, could at the most only 
 be used for repairs. Very rarely did either turn into 
 anything better. This was specially applicable in 
 Benno's case. He would certainly never set the Thames 
 on fire ; serious endeavour and love of work were not his 
 strong points, and above all he did not possess the 
 strength of character to apply himself to anything that 
 was at all distasteful to him, or to take up any occupa- 
 tion in which his social position would be humble 
 compared with his present rank, or which entailed 
 his working hard for his daily bread and denying himself 
 in order to achieve success. 
 
 Good advice would have been valuable at this crisis, 
 but the Major was at a loss for it — what was he to do .? 
 He must see and talk to Benno, that was the best, in 
 fact the only thing to do. So he wrote to his son 
 
 instead of the Colonel. 
 
 « « « « ♦ 
 
 Lieutenant von Koehler had not been seen on duty 
 for some days. In reply to the many enquiries put by 
 his brother officers the Adjutant answered, in the 
 peculiar and indifferent manner people assume when 
 they wish others to have no doubts as to the obvious 
 falseness of their statement, that Lieutenant von Koehler 
 was on the sick list Consequently no one enquired as 
 to the nature of Benno's illness — they knew enough ; 
 and during meals, or where they forgathered, his 
 comrades would throw out sly hints, or exchange secret 
 surmises as to the truth — for to hear evil spoken of 
 another is a satisfaction to all, who know only too 
 well how little good others can possibly say of us. So 
 
 17 C 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 no one went to visit the sick comrade, which otherwise 
 they would willingly have done, making the most of an 
 opportunity of getting a cigar or a drink, or both. For 
 Koehler stood on the brink of retirement, and for 
 candidates for the civilian state they felt nothing but a 
 passing pity, and showed no further interest in them. 
 Koehler had been exempted from his duties by the 
 Colonel until some sort of explanation of the embarrass- 
 ing situation should be forthcoming. 
 
 "An officer," he had said to him, "who has debts 
 cannot properly attend to his duties, and I have no use 
 for him." 
 
 Koehler was therefore sentenced at once to confine- 
 ment to his quarters. For four days his foot had not 
 crossed the threshold of his uncongenial rooms in the 
 barracks ; he lay the whole day long on a couch, thinking 
 over things and hoping against hope that something 
 would turn up soon. His servant walked about on 
 tiptoe, and had just enveloped the electric bell in a 
 handkerchief, for every ring made his master jump, 
 owing to his nervous dread of its being some unwelcome 
 visitor. From the barrack square could be heard till 
 quite late in the evening the loud shouts and sharp 
 commands of the non-commissioned officers, and the 
 noise nearly drove Benno wild ; not only because it 
 interrupted his train of thought, but because he felt that 
 he alone was condemned to inactivity, whilst others 
 were allowed to perform their usual duties. Did he 
 spring up and walk nervously up and down his room, he 
 was always irresistibly drawn to the window and 
 possessed with the desire to look out just for a moment, 
 
 i8 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 if only for the sake of seeing a living soul ; and the same 
 picture presented itself invariably — a scene whose 
 contemplation caused him almost physical pain : swear- 
 ing non-commissioned officers, weary recruits, and a few 
 of his comrades, standing gossiping together with their 
 hands rammed up to their elbows in the pockets of their 
 military overcoats. It seemed to him as though they 
 must be talking about him, and he experienced for the 
 first time a feeling of thankfulness towards the superior 
 officers who suddenly arrived on the scene, and whose 
 advent was made known to the chattering group by a 
 sign from the non-commissioned officer who was keeping 
 watch, with the result that the gossips hastily joined 
 their various companies and began storming and swear- 
 ing, and altogether exhibiting such zeal, that one would 
 have thought their salvation depended on a straight 
 knee or the correct angle of a helmet. Then he would 
 throw himself on the sofa again and light, for the third 
 or fourth time, his last cigar-end to try and pacify his 
 clamouring stomach, for the cook had orders from the 
 Colonel only to serve food in their rooms to officers who 
 had no debts at the mess ; and his last penny had gone 
 to the washerwoman, when she paid him a long- 
 delayed visit in person, in spite of the fact that over 
 his door was a placard, placed there by some former 
 occupier and misogynist, to the effect that " Womenfolk 
 must remain outside." When his servant brought in the 
 letters Koehler would throw, at the most, a cursor)'- 
 glance at the grey and green envelopes, which he had 
 long since given up opening. 
 
 But there was a white one among them to-day. It 
 19 C 2 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 bore the Major's unmistakable handwriting, and the 
 coronet with his father's monogram ornamented the back 
 of it. Benno picked it up hesitatingly, and opened it, 
 more out of a feeling of dutiful affection than in the 
 expectation of finding any pleasant news in it. 
 
 The letter did not contain much. " I am coming to 
 see you to-morrow," that was all. 
 
 At nine o'clock next morning Benno was still in bed. 
 The whole night long he had paced restlessly to and fro, 
 preparing a suitable explanation for his father, and 
 thinking of a way out of this uncomfortable tite-d-tite 
 which, from his point of view, was quite useless ; for it 
 never entered into his calculations that his father would 
 come with a well-filled pocket-book. He knew only too 
 well how short they were of money at home, for he 
 absorbed the greater portion of his father's pension him- 
 self. In case of emergencies, Benno had " borrowed " 
 a few cigars and a bottle of Rhine wine from a neigh- 
 bouring brother officer, who sent them unwillingly by 
 the servant, wondering at the same time what a man in 
 Koehler's position wanted with a bottle of wine. Had 
 he got some girl in his rooms } In that case one could 
 arrange a "chance" visit to inquire for the invalid. 
 "But no," thought he, "he only wants to drown his 
 troubles in drink." " Tout comma chez nous!' he added 
 mentally. The chief thing for Benno, however, was 
 that he had something decent to offer his father, for the 
 latter had a decided weakness for these rare treats. 
 
 Awakening from his leaden sleep, Benno received a 
 great shock on hearing his captain's voice shouting 
 
 20 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 the familiar commands under the window. Had he 
 overslept himself? No, he had " taken cold," and might 
 not go out and enjoy the fresh morning air ; then as the 
 sound of the opening bars of his favourite march struck 
 on his ear he could have cried from sheer loneliness and 
 the miserable feeling of being deserted and an outcast. 
 A growing longing for his father awoke in his breast — 
 the one person who still troubled himself about him, 
 except his servant, who only did so because he was 
 ordered to. To his longing for his father was added that 
 for his mother and sisters. What sacrifices they must 
 have made in order to scrape together sufficient for him 
 to live up to his position, which was neither accord- 
 ing to his means nor his taste, and from which, all the 
 same, he did not think it possible to sever his connec- 
 tion. His thoughts were interrupted by his servant, 
 who announced that a gentleman had called who would 
 not be refused admittance. Hardly had he given the 
 man instructions to send the persistent stranger away 
 with a plausible lie, when he heard a step in the adjoining 
 room, and a moment later was gazing guiltily upon his 
 father's stern countenance. 
 
 " Get up ! " said the Major in a deep voice. " Young 
 people should not sleep till ten o'clock," and with these 
 words turned on his heel and went back to the sitting- 
 room, where Benno heard him sink into an armchair with 
 a heavy sigh. 
 
 The Major had not long to wait. Benno soon 
 appeared, pale and trembling, with a look of having 
 been up all night, and on observing that his father con- 
 tinued silently staring at the floor without taking any 
 
 21 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 notice of his entry he remained standing where he was, 
 uncertain for the moment what to do, then, pulling him- 
 self together, fetched the bottle of wine from the corner, 
 and put it on the table. 
 
 " What does this mean ? " growled the old man. 
 " Poor people do not drink wine." 
 
 Benno looked nervously at his father, put the bottle 
 back in its place, and sat down with some hesitation 
 opposite his taciturn guest. Neither spoke a word, 
 and not until the silence began to grow embarrassing, 
 did the Major break out with a heavy sigh. 
 
 " What's to happen now 1 " 
 
 *' If only, father, you can, , . ." 
 
 " I can do nothing ! " said the old man angrily ; " the 
 most I can do is to give you some advice as to how you 
 can most decently disappear." 
 
 Benno paled. He had not been prepared for this 
 turn of affairs, for although he knew that there was 
 nothing much to be had out of his father's pocket, 
 yet he had always hoped to find some way out of the 
 difficulty. Now, suddenly, like a dreadful apparition, 
 the thought of compulsory resignation arose before 
 him. 
 
 "You know," continued the Major more quietly, 
 "the last of the money that your mother had saved 
 went two years ago to pay your tailor's bill. I have 
 nothing more to giwQ you. This is the last resource," 
 and diving into his breast pocket he produced two £^ 
 notes, which he placed on the table. " Lilly sends you 
 these from the money which she had saved up for her 
 dowry." 
 
 22 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 " It is very touching of her, father, but ... we shall 
 not get very far with that." 
 
 " At all events it will suffice for the journey across 
 the frontier, or if you can think of anything better ? . . . '* 
 
 " Good Heavens, father, you don't mean that I must 
 desert ? " 
 
 " Desert ? No, no, my boy, that would be a black- 
 guardly thing to do. You must send in your papers 
 and disappear abroad to the El Dorado of all our officers 
 who have gone wrong ; that much you can do." 
 
 "But what am I to do abroad, my dear father," 
 expostulated Benno, " am I to ? " 
 
 " Black boots, like your comrades in America, or don 
 the garb of a waiter, for the time being. I can think of 
 nothing better." 
 
 Benno gazed at his father in silent bewilderment. 
 Was he in earnest, or was he only playing with him, to 
 punish him for his foolishness .? 
 
 *' Father ! " he stammered anxiously, " You cannot 
 really mean me to " 
 
 " Certainly, my son ! " answered the old man with 
 decision, " I am not joking." 
 
 Benno ;stared in consternation at his father for a 
 moment, then his eyes filled with tears and an inde- 
 scribable feeling of anxiety rose in his breast, a sensation 
 as though he were almost strangling. This feeling fell 
 like a heavy curtain before his eyes ; he felt he must cry 
 aloud for help, to make himself heard, and to have those 
 cruel words unsaid. 
 
 "You see," began the Major, who had apparently 
 regained his composure, " there is no object in beginning 
 
 23 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 again from the beginning. In two years' time it will be 
 the same old story, you may be sure of that." 
 
 " But I will be very economical and live within my 
 means for the future. Consider, father " 
 
 " Rubbish ! " interrupted the Major sharply, with a 
 forced and bitter laugh ; " that * being economical ' is one 
 of the many legends of a bygone day, and sounds just as 
 ridiculous as the story of the recruit who apparently 
 carried the Field-Marshal's bdton in his knapsack. A 
 wealthy lieutenant can afford the luxury of being econ- 
 omical, but a poor one either starves or gets into debt." 
 
 Benno did not venture to answer. He realised that 
 his father had spoken in bitter earnest. In the depths 
 of despair he stared silently at the floor, not noticing the 
 tears which stood in his father's eyes. The old Major 
 had seen many a young officer go this way in his time, 
 and had always felt the deepest sympathy for them in the 
 trouble he was fated to experience so bitterly in his own 
 life. It was familiar enough to him ; the fall from the 
 heaven of a well-deserved and honourable position, free 
 from cares and anxiety, to the depths of hard reality ; or 
 else the miserable sense of carelessly contracted debts 
 hanging over one, like an angel with a flaming sword, 
 guarding the gates of Paradise, outside which no 
 existence worth living seemed possible. And these 
 debts — were they in any proportion to all the wretched- 
 ness they brought upon the debtor? No, a thousand 
 times no, for they affected others besides the one who 
 contracted them, and the men who would now be called 
 upon to judge his son all sanctioned a system by which 
 the debts of the inexperienced, the tardily warned, and 
 
 24 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 the badly advised, brought disaster on the heads of 
 others in a thousand different ways. And this time the 
 victim was his own dearly loved son, whom he had come 
 to advise. . . . Deepest compassionidispelled the Major's 
 few remaining feelings of anger. 
 
 " Now cheer up, my boy," he said in a broken voice, 
 " it is not quite hopeless yet. You have still got your 
 father, even if he cannot help you much," he added with 
 a mirthless smile. " I shall go and see the Colonel." 
 With these words he got up slowly. 
 
 " The Colonel ! You yourself .? " cried Benno as- 
 tonished. 
 
 " Yes, I shall go and tell him myself what you were 
 going to have told him, and ask for leave for you. Wc 
 can arrive at some decision so much better at home." 
 
 Benno did not answer, but when the door closed 
 behind his father a moment later, he was filled with an 
 overwhelming sense of gratitude towards the man who 
 had taken pity on him in his helpless position. 
 
 Colonel von Scholler and Major von Koehler were 
 not strangers. Already, on Benno's entrance into the 
 regiment, they had shaken hands as old comrades in 
 arms, for at Gravelotte they had stood shoulder to 
 shoulder under the enemy's fire. It is true Scholler had 
 climbed somewhat higher up the military ladder and 
 was now a colonel, with the certainty of being made a 
 Brigadier-General. Consequently Koehler felt a certain 
 antipathy towards the man. Embittered as he was, it 
 had become almost a fixed idea with him, that anyone 
 who had attained a higher rank than himself could not 
 possibly be an honourable man, or, at any rate, must be a 
 
 25 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 man always ready to humble or efface himself when his 
 ideas did not happen to coincide with his superiors' views. 
 He hated such people. The man who was afraid to 
 show his own individuality at all times was, in his opinion, 
 no man, but simply a puppet, who grinningly performed 
 every desired movement when the right string was pulled. 
 
 Scholler was still sitting at the breakfast table. 
 From his attitude it was clear that he was not in any 
 undue hurry to arrive at the barracks, for his motto 
 was : " First come the superior officers, but not too 
 soon ; " consequently he was thoroughly enjoying his 
 morning cigar, whilst his wife, in a morning gown 
 which had once been cream coloured, and with untidy 
 hair, sat beside him reading out the latest alterations in 
 uniform from the army regulations. The Colonel had 
 just remarked that they would be wearing peacocks' 
 feathers next, and his wife had let her silvery-toned 
 laugh be heard, when the servant brought in Koehler's 
 card, whereupon she rustled out of the room with a pro- 
 longed " oh ! " and the Colonel, wearing a very displeased 
 expression, gave orders to show the gentleman in. 
 
 Scholler went to meet the Major with outstretched 
 hands. 
 
 " You were lucky to find me here ! " he exclaimed 
 jovially. " I was for once in a way going on duty a bit 
 later this morning." 
 
 " I have just come from the barracks, Colonel,'* 
 answered Koehler ; a remark which seemed to cause the 
 former some embarrassment. " Please excuse my early 
 visit," he added, "but my stay will not be a very 
 long one." The Major's attitude was stiff. 
 
 26 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 This did not escape Scholler's notice, and he there- 
 fore assumed a more serious expression as Koehler 
 continued : 
 
 " It is no pleasant business that brings me here ; by 
 the way, thank you for your letter." 
 
 " It was only natural that I should communicate at 
 once with you as Benno's father and my old friend," 
 interposed the Colonel. 
 
 " As a friend you say ! " answered Koehler, with 
 raised eyebrows. " H'm. I'm grateful for your friend- 
 ship, dear SchoUer, but I should have been more grateful 
 if you had given some proof of your friendship a little 
 sooner." 
 
 " How do you mean "i " said Scholler, startled. " I 
 do not understand you." 
 
 "Well, let us talk plainly with each other. It is 
 not the first time my son has been in a similar situa- 
 tion, and I maintain that in the beginning it would 
 have been possible to prevent matters going so far ; now 
 it is too late." 
 
 " Excuse me one moment — do you mean to suggest 
 that it is my fault that your son has lived beyond his 
 means } I cannot possibly run about after each of my 
 officers hke a nurse." 
 
 "You need not go so far as that, but I think if 
 you had kept a stricter watch on him this would not 
 have happened, and it would not have come to his 
 having to send in his papers." 
 
 ** You are mistaken, dear Koehler," replied Scholler 
 sharply, "I am the commander of a regiment, not a 
 nursemaid. I require of my officers that they should 
 
 27 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 themselves know what they are to do, or leave 
 undone." 
 
 " Perhaps I have no right to say things to you which 
 might sound like criticism or blame, because you asked 
 me to speak as a friend." 
 
 "But you must see yourself, dear Koehler, that it 
 is impossible for me to run about everywhere after 
 my lieutenants and keep count of every penny they 
 spend ; if an opportune warning does not suffice, well 
 then " 
 
 "Then one must find some other means, you were 
 going to say." 
 
 "Under certain circumstances, yes," answered the 
 Colonel, shrugging his shoulders, for the situation was 
 becoming a little uncomfortable for him. "But you 
 cannot wish to imply that I am responsible for the 
 system." 
 
 " Not quite that ; but your method of independence 
 goes, in my opinion, a little too far. The system 
 governing the education of lieutenants is an established 
 law, but one should not do as Lafontaine did who, 
 having never troubled himself in the least about his son, 
 said one day : " Je suis bien aise^ il est rhissi!' The 
 natural result of this system is that ninety per cent, 
 draw blanks; but this does not suffice for our young men 
 who actually require to be educated in firmness of char- 
 acter to comply with the exaggerated requirements of 
 those so-called 'duties of their position' which have 
 become such a strong element among us." 
 
 " I will not discuss the question as to whether this 
 system leaves anything to be desired or not. Its chief 
 
 28 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 fault is perhaps that we expect a boy of nineteen or 
 twenty to be a regular model of good behaviour and 
 start him with a capital of pride of rank without the 
 smallest guarantee that he has any notion how to hus- 
 band his resources. It is obvious that those responsible 
 for the education of cadets should study the matter 
 thoroughly in order to send their pupils at any rate 
 partially grounded into their new life. After all, the so- 
 called selection of officers is merely a farce. I mean, 
 how can anyone, after seeing a young cadet sitting as 
 still as a mouse for a few hours in the mess-room, form 
 any real opinion as to his merits .? He must be an excep- 
 tional youth if he fails to create a favourable impression 
 under this slight test. Then this so-called and much- 
 prized smartness, which the lads bring with them from 
 their military schools, it is either only on the tips of 
 their tongues or borrowed from their tailors. But all 
 this is part of the system and we cannot alter it." 
 
 " So," continued the Major, " you require that every 
 greenhorn on entering the regiment should have the 
 whole list of conduct rules at his finger-ends which, with 
 all its regulations as to how to behave in special cases and 
 situations — where one invariably does the wrong thing — 
 has become a science in itself Therefore, I tell you, a 
 more careful eye should be kept on the young lieutenants 
 who enter their profession so insufficiently prepared in this 
 branch of their education. Advise and guide them so 
 that the number of bankrupts should decrease, instead 
 of increasing yearly, as they are now doing," 
 
 " And if I understand you rightly, you blame me for 
 not having done all this } " 
 
 29 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 " I believe I have a right to, speaking as friend to 
 friend," replied Koehler seriously. 
 
 " Well, well, old friend, do not play the part of the 
 judge any longer," said the Colonel kindly, stretching 
 out his hand towards his oldxomrade. " If you wish it, 
 I will keep a constant watch over Benno for the future, 
 and in order to make it all the easier, he shall be 
 my Adjutant this winter." 
 
 The Major's gloomy expression did not change at 
 these words, as the Colonel had expected, and Koehler 
 did not answer till, meeting the former's questioning 
 look, he said sadly : 
 
 " Thank you, dear Scholler, but I have already told 
 you that it is too late. I cannot pay Benno's debts." 
 
 The Colonel started guiltily. 
 
 " You cannot pay them .«* " 
 
 « No ! " 
 
 " That is indeed a bad look-out ! " 
 
 A long pause followed. The old Major stared 
 silently at the carpet, trying hard to keep back the tears 
 from his eyes that his former comrade should not see 
 them. Meanwhile the Colonel's gaze rested sympathet- 
 ically on the old man before him with a feeling that he 
 himself was partly to blame for all his misery. Never 
 before had he realised to such an extent the great 
 responsibility which rested with him as Colonel of a 
 regiment, as at this moment when he saw the happiness 
 of a family, and the life of one of his subordinates 
 wrecked through events which he might have prevented, 
 or at least have held in check. All this dawned on him 
 now, and he felt that he deserved the bitter reproach in 
 
 30 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 the eyes of the man before him. Was not the same 
 thing liable to happen again at any moment ? The 
 thought of this possibility weighed so heavily on his 
 conscience that he got up, and began nervously to walk 
 up and down the room, almost oblivious of the presence 
 of the man who had appeared so unexpectedly as his 
 judge. The sight of the old man, fighting to keep back 
 his tears, at last became unbearable. 
 
 Quickly making up his mind, he strode towards the 
 Major, held out his hand once more, and said : 
 
 " Then I will pay Benno's debts." 
 
 Koehler looked up incredulously, and surveyed the 
 Colonel for a while with a questioning glance. 
 
 " That is very noble and generous of you," he said 
 hesitatingly. ** But I cannot accept this sacrifice, for I 
 do not know if I shall ever be able to repay you. Some- 
 thing might happen to me any day, and I cannot inflict 
 such a burden on my wife." 
 
 "Don't worry about that, my dear Major! I will 
 settle all that with your son. Go to him and tell him that 
 I expect him to announce his return to duty at noon 
 to-day. And now you must excuse me, for I have 
 arranged a meeting of officers at twelve o'clock." 
 
 Nothing had been made known to the officers of the 
 intended meeting, and it was not until after the Colonel 
 had taken leave of the Major with a hearty shake of the 
 hand at the barrack gates, that it was announced. With 
 the events of the morning still fresh in his mind, the 
 Colonel was going to lecture his officers, partly to ease 
 his conscience, but above all to prevent any similar cases 
 if possible. He could not conceal from himself the fact 
 
 31 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 that, should it become known to the authorities that a 
 lieutenant in his regiment had been forced to resign on 
 account of his debts, his own chances of attaining the 
 desired rank of a brigadier-general would not be im- 
 proved. Whilst Koehler was retracing his steps in a 
 happier state of mind, with his lost faith in true friendship 
 once more revived, the entire watch, which ought to have 
 been on duty elsewhere, were hurrying over the barracks 
 in all directions bearing the Colonel's commands to the 
 officers. As a matter of fact it was not very hard to find 
 them, for with the exception of the adjutant they were 
 having breakfast at the mess. 
 
 The news of the meeting burst like a bomb among 
 them, especially as the Colonel requested them to appear 
 in full uniform. There must be something very im- 
 portant on hand. Guilty conscience made cowards of 
 them all, for all of them had something on their minds, 
 which was sufficient cause for a reprimand coram publico^ 
 and many of them even more serious things ; not only 
 the lieutenants, but also the older men, some of whom 
 were afraid they had perhaps been seen lately in certain 
 places in mufti. Others again were filled with anxiety 
 lest the " Old Man " might have secretly inspected their 
 battalions. The fat Major was the only one who felt 
 fairly at ease, for he lent the Colonel one of his horses 
 every day, and only a fortnight ago had given a small 
 fortune for his old and worn out " Laurentia." 
 
 Long before the appointed hour the officers were to 
 be seen promenading up and down before the staff 
 quarters in full uniform, exchanging surmises as to the 
 unknown cause of the meeting. At last they caught 
 
 32 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 sight of the fat Major, the owner of ** Laurentia," where- 
 upon they ventured to ascend the steps, for he always 
 affected arriving at the last minute. They were not a 
 little astonished to find the long-absent Lieutenant 
 von Koehler there, and one or two of them asked him 
 slyly if he had quite recovered from his serious illness. 
 
 Scholler now appeared. The top button of his over- 
 coat, which he always wore undone — the Colonel's one 
 eccentricity, as he himself often laughingly observed — 
 was buttoned up to-day, a sign of the seriousness 
 of the occasion, which was accentuated by the stern 
 expression of his countenance, on which the conven- 
 tional smile had given place to an air of almost 
 Draconic severity. As he never liked to give his 
 addresses a personal application, he turned his head to 
 the left, as usual, and fixing his eyes on the ground 
 began :— 
 
 " Gentlemen — I have requested your attendance here 
 to-day, as I think it is high time to recall a very important 
 statute to your remembrance. It runs thus : * The more 
 luxury and good living there is, the more should an 
 officer be prepared to live a simple life, etc., etc.* You 
 all know the words by heart." 
 
 As a matter of fact the Colonel did not know them 
 perfectly enough himself to quote them to his officers, 
 so found it more convenient to take their knowledge 
 for granted. 
 
 " This statute, gentlemen," he continued, " arose from 
 the well-proved fact that the increased rate of living in 
 the present day was not compatible with an officer's 
 means. To live like a gentleman does not mean to live 
 
 33 D 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 beyond one's means, and it is a mistake to think that 
 the regard of others is won through outward show, to 
 which the officer should attach the less importance, the 
 more it becomes a ruling factor in society. Besides, 
 gentlemen, the acquirement of debts does not tend to 
 strengthen the trust with which we, as examples of 
 honest living and manly virtue, should inspire the nation. 
 Therefore he who contracts debts which he cannot pay 
 acts dishonourably. We, as officers, should have the 
 strictest code of honour of any people in the land. I 
 have no further use for any officers in my regiment who 
 carelessly contract debts, and should such a thing occur, 
 or any complaints of the same come to my ears, I shall 
 have recourse to the strongest measures. I have warned 
 you, gentlemen ! Thank you ! " 
 
 Thus spoke the Colonel and disappeared once more 
 into his private room, after bestowing an annihilating 
 glance on the company in general. 
 
 '* Did you ever hear such nonsense ! " grumbled the 
 fat Major, elbowing his way first to the top of the stairs, 
 the others following with more or less discontented faces 
 to continue their interrupted meal. Soon they were all 
 reseated in full force, glasses were filled and refilled with 
 wine, and things became very lively. Only Biilau, the 
 Adjutant of the Fusilier Battalion, who, as he often 
 laughingly said, went through the streets by leaps and 
 bounds to avoid running into the arms of his creditors, 
 had fled to the reading-room. At last he wanted 
 seriously to study the addresses of genuine moneylenders, 
 which up to now he had only glanced at casually in 
 the papers. 
 
 34 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 In the mess-room the fat Major was holding forth. 
 His hearers always listened to his speeches, delivered in 
 a deep bass voice, with pleasure ; for he could not only 
 speak well, but he was such an excellent mimic of all his 
 superiors, including the General himself, that he never 
 lost a chance of scoring off them. To-day he was in a 
 more serious mood than usual, and was severely criticising 
 to a sympathetic audience the Colonel's speech, which 
 did not appear to have met with his approval. 
 
 " He will be ordering the weather for the manoeuvres 
 next ! " he grumbled. " Does he imagine that he can 
 correct the evil by a few casual words like that ? First 
 he says one must pay one's heavy mess-bills and then 
 says that we must not live luxuriously. Gentlemen, tell 
 me, have you ever heard such a thing .? As if any of us 
 could look on whilst some wretched lawyer or some rich 
 civilian fellow dined off oysters ! It's too ridiculous ! " 
 
 " Now, now, calm yourself, Fatty," said the first 
 lieutenant sitting next him, in a soothing voice, laying a 
 hand on his shoulder. " We don't eat the whole day." 
 
 " That is not the point," exploded the Major, shaking 
 the friendly hand from his shoulder impatiently. " Now 
 comes the climax ! We are supposed to play first fiddle 
 everywhere, to run about the streets like fashion-plates, 
 travel first-class, and then, as soon as one has gone to 
 the expense of buying a new uniform, hey presto ! another 
 arrives on the scenes. Our pay should be increased, 
 I say ! " 
 
 The Major had worked himself up so thoroughly that 
 the veins stood out on his forehead as thick as pencils, 
 and he tossed down one glass of wine after another, 
 
 35 D 2 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 encouraged by the Adjutant, who kept on filling up his 
 glass and drinking to keep him company. The mess 
 waiters stood in the background with puzzled faces, for 
 they had heard nothing of the matter under discussion, 
 and could not make it out. 
 
 Meanwhile Lieutenant von Koehler had been sitting 
 silently at the farther end of the table, looking gratefully 
 now and then at the Major, who was quite unwittingly 
 defending him with such brilliance. Sometimes he 
 glanced impatiently at the big clock in the corner, for 
 the Colonel on receiving his announcement had requested 
 his attendance at one o'clock. 
 
 A visit to the " Waxwork Show," also called the 
 " Chamber of Horrors," was not reckoned among an 
 officer's most pleasant experience. The Colonel was in 
 the habit of going into things very thoroughly on these 
 occasions, and more than once a reprimand had been the 
 result of such a visit. To-day Koehler might expect a 
 sample of his wrath, for it was not likely that the Colonel 
 would sacrifice one hundred and fifty pounds without 
 giving vent to his feelings. 
 
 Scholler hardly acknowledged the obsequious bow 
 which Koehler made on entering the apartment, and 
 favoured the culprit with a severe look. Eight ears were 
 in the meantime pressed closely to the doors leading to 
 the reading- and mess-rooms, amongst them that of the 
 Adjutant, who listened greedily to the words which were 
 spoken in a clear tone, so that a few minutes later the 
 result of the interview would be known in the officers' 
 and non-commissioned officers' quarters, in the canteen 
 and the barrack-room, in fact, throughout the length 
 
 36 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 and breadth of the place. The listeners had a long time 
 to wait, for it took the Colonel fully twenty minutes to 
 make up for his sacrifice, and when Koehler left the room 
 at the end of this time, pale and trembling, everyone 
 knew a few moments later that Lieutenant Koehler had 
 got a severe "jawing," and had been transferred, on 
 account of his debts, to a frontier garrison. 
 
 37 
 
Chapter 1 1 
 
 THE short leave which Lieutenant von Koehler 
 had received from his new Colonel had 
 almost come to an end. 
 The Major's spirits had risen consider- 
 ably during that time, for the turn events had taken with 
 regard to Benno's career had lifted a great weight off his 
 mind as to the future, the thought of which had cost him 
 many a sleepless night. Above all, Benno himself 
 appeared to have learnt a lesson from his unpleasant 
 experiences, and if he remained true to all the good 
 resolutions of which he was now always talking, he could 
 not fail to be happy. 
 
 It is true that the Major looked upon his son's 
 removal to a frontier station with decidedly mixed 
 feelings, for his mind was always reverting to the saying, 
 " A gosling flew across the Rhine and came back a 
 gander " * ; and he knew from experience that being 
 transferred to one of these garrisons generally meant 
 that it was a last chance for a young officer who had 
 found himself on the downhill path. It was not likely 
 that a man who had not been able to keep out of mis- 
 chief in a large garrison town, where every moment was 
 fully occupied by business or pleasure, would, in a 
 smaller station, be able to resist the pitfalls and tempta- 
 tions which would find only too fruitful soil in his weak 
 character, and would be continually obtruding themselves 
 
 * " Es flog ein Ganslein iiber'n Rhein, 
 Und kam als Gijak wieder heim." 
 
 38 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 on his notice, from the mere fact that they were the only 
 attractions which offered themselves in such a dull place. 
 
 To banish an officer to the frontier to effect a moral 
 cure, was, according to Koehler's experience, a case of 
 sending him " out of the fiying-pan into the fire ; " for the 
 idea that the cost of living was smaller was, to begin 
 with, quite an illusion, as one had to do one's best to 
 replace all the advantages and comforts of a larger 
 station out of one's own pocket. 
 
 At any rate, Koehler himself looked back with the 
 greatest dislike to the time he had spent as a lieutenant 
 on the eastern German frontier, for it had cost him the 
 greater part of his fortune. 
 
 The outlook was pleasanter for Benno, Aunt Stanz- 
 chen having been persuaded by his father into allowing 
 him an additional fifty marks a month. 
 
 The entire family accompanied the traveller to the 
 station with the exception of Edith, who, remaining true 
 to her principles, had favoured her brother during his 
 brief visit with looks filled with hatred, and only un- 
 willingly stretched her hand round the corner of the door 
 when he came to her room to say good-bye. 
 
 There was no lack of good advice from the parents 
 before he started, but Aunt Stanzchen was the one who 
 fairly overwhelmed him with it, for she imagined that 
 she had a particular right to do so, as the liberal donor 
 of so princely an addition to his income. 
 
 The journey was long. Benno had changed into a 
 third-class carriage at the next station to that of his 
 native town fot the sake of economy, a thing which Aunt 
 Stanzchen must not know, for she would be sure to think 
 
 39 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 it a great insult to the traditions of her house for a 
 Koehler to have sat in the same compartment with a 
 common labourer. Benno, however, took no notice of 
 the men who sat, snoring and smoking, closely packed in 
 the carriage, being busy with other thoughts. 
 
 He gazed thoughtfully out at the moonlit landscape. 
 The blue-grey hills in the distance cast their dark 
 shadows on the plains, and the fleeting clouds passing 
 over the face of the moon made gigantic and fantastic 
 shapes on the bright green surface of the corn fields. 
 
 Benno was in the uncomfortable frame of mind of 
 one who is starting a new life without the slightest 
 notion as to what it will mean for him ; and this un- 
 pleasant feeling, increasing with every mile which brought 
 him nearer his journey's end, became a state of nervous 
 disquiet. The journey seemed to him to last an eternity, 
 and he counted the hours till he was due to arrive at his 
 new station with growing impatience. The sandwiches 
 with which his careful mother had provided him for the 
 journey were left untouched ; but, to soothe his empty 
 stomach, he smoked, in nervous haste, one cigar after 
 another from the box Lilly had given him just before he 
 left. The few miserable huts and villages showing 
 occasionally through the morning mists were not calcu- 
 lated to raise great hopes as to the cheerfulness of the 
 frontier town which, barely marked on the map, was 
 only spoken of in grim jest, just as one frightens little 
 children by talking of the " black man " coming. 
 
 Koehler did not reach his destination till the following 
 afternoon. A light cart, with two wretched-looking 
 horses, drove him over the uneven roads to the barracks, 
 
 40 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 where, according to the Adjutant's instructions, he was to 
 take up his abode at present. As a matter of fact, these 
 quarters were only intended for the youngest officers, but 
 the Colonel preferred putting uncertain characters there 
 at first. 
 
 The place looked inhospitable enough, in all con- 
 science. The paymaster had not ventured to give the order 
 for the repapering of the faded walls in the rooms of 
 Koehler's predecessor, as the appointed time hadj not 
 elapsed since they were last done. Nearly all the pieces 
 of furniture were minus a leg, and the sheets on the iron 
 bedstead were as dirty as though they had been slept in 
 by the servant for years. The only attempt at decoration 
 was an inventory of the contents of the room, which hung 
 over a large hole in the wall and was covered with fly- 
 blows, while it was impossible to see out of the windows 
 overlooking the courtyard, for they were opaque with 
 dust and cobwebs, 
 
 Benno shuddered at the sight of the bare room, which 
 was more like a prison-cell than an officer's quarters, 
 and whilst the servant was unpacking his things he went 
 to have a look round the barracks, as it was too late to 
 report himself to the Colonel. On leaving the wing in 
 which his rooms were situated he found himself in the 
 garden, where he suddenly came upon two gentle- 
 men in grey, who were passing the time by shooting 
 with an air-pistol at a bottle of wine, the contents of 
 which were to be shared, free of cost, by the better shot. 
 On perceiving Koehler they advanced solemnly towards 
 him and introduced themselves — Von Rauch and Von 
 KoUman. Koehler bowed in an embarrassed manner, 
 
 41 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 holding out his hand to his new comrades, who were 
 looking him up and down critically. 
 
 "Which commandment have you broken that you 
 have been sent to Siberia ? " laughed Lieutenant von 
 Rauch, looking at Benno with an almost distrustful 
 expression. 
 
 " Is it necessary, then, to have committed some crime 
 to be sent here ? " answered Koehler, feeling very 
 uncomfortable. 
 
 " That stands to reason ! " said Kollman, with a hearty 
 laugh. " We do not come here for pleasure, and anyone 
 misguided enough to do so would lose no time in getting 
 away again." 
 
 "That is a nice outlook!" said Koehler, trying to 
 treat it as a joke, but feeling an involuntary dislike to 
 the tone these two men adopted towards him, as though 
 they had known him at least a year. Rauch appeared 
 to realise this, for he tapped Koehler kindly on the 
 shoulder, saying — 
 
 " Don't be afraid ; you will find it is really not half 
 so bad. There is practically no work to be done, which 
 is the chief thing." 
 
 At this moment the servant of another officer who 
 lived in the barracks came up to Rauch, and saluting 
 delivered the following message — 
 
 " The gentlemen are requested to attend Lieutenant 
 Gallwitz in his rooms." 
 
 "Splendid!" cried Rauch. "Gallwitz has brewed 
 some coffee. You must come, too, Koehler, then you 
 can make the acquaintance of your next door neighbour." 
 So saying, he grasped Koehler by the arm and led him 
 
 42 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 to his friend's rooms, which were on the ground floor. 
 " You will be astonished. This chap has an awfully- 
 swagger den," he added, pushing him into Gallwitz's 
 room. 
 
 Rauch had not exaggerated, for Gallwitz, who was 
 looked upon as the eccentric of the regiment, prided 
 himself on having nothing in his room which, as he 
 expressed it, he had not " bagged " from somewhere or 
 other. Consequently the walls were covered with all 
 sorts of advertisements. Each was clearly labelled as to 
 how, where, and when it had been " obtained " by its 
 present owner, whether from a tobacconist's shop, a 
 waiting-room, or a restaurant ; and in addition Gallwitz 
 had written a witty description of each of the pictures. 
 On the sideboard stood a collection of glasses with the 
 names of various railway stations inscribed on them, 
 " my souvenirs," as Gallwitz called them. These, with 
 the exception of a cup, which he declared he had only 
 brought away from Cassel Station at great risk, and an 
 old-fashioned oil-lamp which had once been a street 
 lantern at some watering-place, were the chief ornaments 
 of the room. Right across the apartment hung a 
 clothes-line with at least a dozen pairs of gloves suspended 
 from it, each bearing a different monogram. The only 
 article in the room which Gallwitz could swear he had 
 fairly and honestly paid for was a zinc bath which he 
 had picked up at an auction for two shillings, and in 
 which he was now reposing, attired in a pair of bathing- 
 drawers, reading the paper, and waiting to receive his 
 visitors. 
 
 " Don't think it rude of me, gentlemen, to have made 
 43 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 myself comfortable," he shouted to the new arrivals, and 
 stretching out his hand to Koehler, continued : " This is 
 much the best place in this sweltering heat." 
 
 Koehler bowed again, more embarrassed than ever. 
 These people seemed to have the knack of keeping 
 others in a continual state of embarrassment ; at least, 
 he had never been in such a situation before. 
 
 Gallwitz did not appear to have the slightest intention 
 of abandoning his tub ; on the contrary, he requested 
 Ranch to bring him his coffee there, on observing that 
 the latter was struggling to rob an antediluvian coffee 
 machine of its doubtfully smelling contents. At the 
 same time it seemed to strike him that Koehler was 
 feeling rather out of it. 
 
 " You must not write home at once and say that the 
 people here give ' undress ' coffee-parties," he called to 
 him across the room. " I, too, can make myself smart 
 on occasions." So saying, he seized a grey curtain, and, 
 getting out of the bath, sat down to the table in this 
 get-up. 
 
 " If you ever offer me coffee like this again I will 
 report you to the sanitary inspector," said Ranch, fishing 
 out the grounds from the bottom of his cup with a leaden 
 spoon. " You might at least give us some of that con- 
 densed milk ! " 
 
 Gallwitz got up, and, opening the cupboard, produced 
 the desired article from amid a most varied assortment 
 of things. At the same time he took a small box out of 
 the drawer, which he handed to Koehler, who opened 
 it obediently and discovered that it contained two 
 caterpillars. 
 
 44 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 " My domestic pets," explained Gallwitz carelessly, 
 and seemed surprised that Koehler did not honour them 
 with a very minute inspection. " I have some more," he 
 added, opening a small box which he took from the 
 writing-table, in which a frog was seen sitting on a few 
 green leaves. 
 
 " You seem to be a great lover of animals ! " remarked 
 Koehler, by way of saying something. 
 
 " Oh, yes — rather ! " replied the frog and caterpillar 
 collector. " I am quite fond of them all, except the 
 smaller kinds " ; whereupon he jerked his thumb over 
 his shoulder meaningly in the direction of the bedroom, 
 and on observing Koehler's puzzled expression, lifted his 
 Spartan-like costume, presenting a back thickly covered 
 with red spots to his astounded guest. 
 
 " What ! " cried Koehler, horrified ; " are there bugs 
 here — real bugs .? " 
 
 " Keep calm ! " was Gallwitz's answer. " Real live 
 bugs, small and great." 
 
 " Ah, you wait till you get into your room," laughed 
 Kollman, " you will go through something then ! Your 
 predecessor Schroder always shot at them with a revolver." 
 At this moment a knock was heard and the postman 
 entered. " Servus, bearer of delight ! " was Gallwitz's 
 greeting, as the man handed him a small envelope. He 
 refused the inevitable request for a tip, pointing to his 
 bathing drawers and saying : — 
 
 " I don't happen to have anything on me at present." 
 The postman departed laughing, and Gallwitz opened 
 the letter, having recognised the handwriting as that of 
 of his friend Greta. 
 
 45 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 " We shall be having a visitor in a quarter of an hour's 
 time, gentlemen," he cried triumphantly, and locked up 
 the letter in the drawer of his writing-table which bore 
 the inscription " Letters of my girlhood." 
 
 Rauch and KoUman received the news of Crete's 
 intended visit with great joy, for Grete, the demi- 
 mondaine of the garrison, was true to the colours, and 
 often lived for weeks at a time in the barracks, enjoying 
 most intimate relationship with almost all the officers, 
 and honouring them each in turn with a visit. Some- 
 times she would go and stay a short time with one of the 
 officers who lived in the town, and thus it was that she 
 not only knew all their exact circumstances, but had 
 become quite an indispensable factotum. They found her 
 a most convenient go-between when one man wished to 
 express an uncomplimentary opinion of another, for 
 Grete understood how to convey such messages with 
 so much tact and humour that through her they could 
 say the rudest things to each other without there being 
 any occasion to take offence. 
 
 This time it was Gallwitz's turn to enjoy Grete's 
 society, and with this object in view his bedroom had 
 been turned into "a regular boudoir," having been 
 newly papered, while, as he related with much gusto, he 
 had talked the cook into giving him a new jug and basin. 
 
 Grete did not keep them waiting long. Her shrill 
 laugh was soon audible from the passage, where she had 
 paused for a moment at the window to watch the soldiers 
 drilling and was shaking with laughter at the quaint 
 appearance they presented, stretching out their arms and 
 legs at the word of command. On entering the " den " 
 
 46 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 she appeared to be pleasantly surprised at the party 
 assembled there to meet her, and embraced each one 
 tenderly, with the exception of Koehler, to whom she 
 held out her hand, saying : — 
 
 " This is something new, isn't it ? " She wore a 
 becoming dress, a hat trimmed with ostrich feathers, a 
 military sash turned into a waist-band, a regimental 
 brooch and a number of rings on her hands, while round 
 her neck was the skin of a fox shot by some captain or 
 other. 
 
 Almost every article she wore was the gift of one of 
 the officers of "her regiment," thereby justifying the 
 name which the colonel — who was well aware of her 
 position in the regiment, which however as a bachelor 
 he chose to wink at — had given her, of " The regimental 
 pig." It was said quite seriously that she was the 
 illegitimate daughter of an officer of high rank from 
 the west, and her aristocratic face, her good breeding, 
 and a certain distinction of carriage seemed to verify the 
 statement. 
 
 The new guest soon made herself quite at home. 
 The fox necklet flew in one direction, the hat and sash 
 in another, and after arranging her hair, which was dyed 
 a very light yellow, before the cracked looking-glass, she 
 sat down on the sofa with her legs crossed. 
 
 All this seemed like an impossible farce to Koehler. 
 The familiar manner adopted by Ranch and KoUman 
 had struck him as strange, but by this time he really 
 hardly knew how to conduct himself towards these 
 curious individuals in their still stranger surroundings. 
 Filled with impressions of his home-life and up-bringing, 
 
 47 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 he felt an absolute disgust at the conduct of these 
 shameless people, and, quickly making up his mind, 
 shook hands with Gallwitz and took leave of the party 
 with the excuse that he wished to unpack his things 
 which had just arrived. 
 
 Koehler's rooms were situated just over those of 
 Gallwitz. On entering them, he could still hear quite 
 plainly the laughter and jests of the party downstairs. 
 Kollmann's piercing voice rang out every now and then 
 like the shrill note of a trumpet, and Grete's bold laugh 
 echoed round the empty room. It was impossible to 
 stay there, so again descending the stairs he went to 
 the reading-room to write a letter to his paents. He 
 felt the need of so doing the more because the repulsive 
 surroundings of the place filled him with such homesick- 
 ness as he had never before experienced in his life. 
 Sadly he thought of the humble yet cosy room at home, 
 where only two days ago he was sitting surrounded 
 by his family. The loving words of comfort and advice 
 were ringing in his ears, and he could still feel the warm 
 pressure of his mother's hand, and see once more the 
 tears she shed as she bade him farewell, as though he 
 were leaving her for ever. Now that he was far away 
 from her he had a hard struggle to keep back the tears 
 which homesickness brought to his eyes, and so he 
 proceeded to pour out all his pent-up feelings in a letter 
 to his parents, taking it to the post-office himself when 
 he had finished. It was getting late in the evening when 
 he returned to his quarters, and his man had already lit 
 the lamp, the cracked chimney of which was stuck 
 together with stamp paper. 
 
 48 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 The voices of the three men and Crete's laugh were 
 still audible from below, all a trifle louder than earlier in 
 the afternoon, for Kollmann and Ranch had both been 
 struck with the idea of drinking the bottle of wine which 
 had served for a target in Crete's and Callwitz's com- 
 pany, whereupon Callwitz supplemented it with two more. 
 The clinking of glasses, and the sound of a cork which 
 shot like a bullet up to the ceiling, breaking into a thousand 
 pieces the glass of the street-lamp, which had been 
 brought home after some orgie, testified to the fact that the 
 " fizz " had not yet given out. It was not until nearly 
 1 1 o'clock that the place became quieter ; and instead of 
 laughter he heard only Crete's subdued giggling and 
 Callwitz's nasal tones. 
 
 The night afforded Koehler ample opportunity of 
 proving the truth of what Kollmann had said with 
 reference to the companions lying in wait behind the 
 faded wall-paper. They seemed to have been regularly 
 waiting for a victim, for Benno had not been in bed an 
 hour before he was forced to get up, with the firm reso- 
 lution of making a complaint as to the state of his 
 
 quarters. 
 
 « » « * ♦ 
 
 At nine o'clock the next morning. Lieutenant von 
 Koehler was at headquarters in full uniform, awaiting 
 the Colonel. The Adjutant had not yet appeared, and, 
 on his arriving at the barrack gates an hour later, 
 Koehler went to meet him in order to introduce himself, 
 whereupon he learnt that the Colonel never arrived at 
 the barracks till eleven o'clock in the " Sauergurken " * 
 
 * A form of pickled cucumber considered a delicacy in Germany. 
 
 49 E 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 season. Koehler therefore decided to look for the 
 captain of his squadron, Captain Baer, and report 
 himself. He found him on the drilling-ground of 
 troop 8, where, armed with an inch rule, he was busily 
 engaged in measuring the collars and heels of four 
 " Einjahrigen," * for the Colonel had just started a 
 campaign against the " foppishness " developing in the 
 regiment. At the sight of Koehler he interrupted his 
 work and went slowly towards him, eyeing the un- 
 permissible height of his collar and the still greater 
 height of the spike of his helmet as welcome sacri- 
 fices. Koehler had scarcely stammered out thestereo- 
 typed introduction than Baer drew forth the inch- 
 rule, and holding it to Koehler's collar remarked ;with 
 raised eyebrows — 
 
 " That must disappear, Lieutenant von Koehler, if we 
 are to be good friends. Order reigns supreme in my 
 troop." 
 
 " Yes, sir," answered Benno. 
 
 " And the helmet spike too." 
 
 " Yes, sir ! " 
 
 " And the white collar under the coat ditto ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir!" 
 
 " Good. Then I shall expect you to go on duty to- 
 morrow morning. The parole book will be sent to you." 
 
 Baer turned to his '' Einjahrigen " again, and Koehler, 
 pondering deeply, went back to the staff quarters. 
 
 This, then, was his new captain ! The first feeling 
 
 * Conscripts whose education allows them to get off with one 
 year's service in the German army. 
 
 50 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 with which this man, with his lined forehead and nerv- 
 ous expression, filled Koehler was one of pity. Baer 
 seemed to him to be one of those men whose continual 
 anxiety as to what their superior will say makes them 
 debase themselves to almost any work in order to 
 please. It struck him as being unspeakably petty and 
 ridiculous for a man at an age when others busied them- 
 selves with the more weighty questions of their profession, 
 to be running about among his subordinates with a yard- 
 measure, like a tailor's apprentice, seeing if their collars 
 were half an inch too high. Although Koehler had met 
 with more than one pedant in uniform, they were most 
 of them pedantic in theory only. In practice, such 
 people, whose range of vision did not extend beyond the 
 commonplace, were in his opinion to be despised. One 
 thing he already knew for certain, and that was that his 
 being good friends with Baer was a very doubtful event, 
 especially as he had a strong foreboding that this narrow- 
 minded Philistine would play the part of guardian to 
 him, by orders " from head-quarters." It was obvious to 
 him that his being put under the care of a strict superior 
 was the result of his not altogether blameless past, and 
 the more this fact obtruded itself on his mind, the more 
 determined he was to take his own line with all these 
 people here, and following his father's advice, preserve 
 his individuality. It is true he knew that the luxury of 
 a personality was almost a breach of discipline in a 
 subordinate, but at the same time he was determined 
 not to descend to the moral level of which he had had an 
 example yesterday, to degrade himself by becoming 
 merely the obedient dog of his superior officers. 
 
 51 E2 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 In this determined and stubborn mood, he climbed 
 the stairs leading to the Colonel's room, less in the 
 expectation of meeting him at once than in the desire to 
 escape the inquisitive looks of the non-commissioned 
 officers and men, who he guessed, after Ranch's remarks 
 of yesterday, looked upon him as a confirmed sinner, 
 and were probably puzzling their heads as to the nature 
 of his crime, in case it should not already have come to 
 the ears of the regiment. 
 
 The Colonel appeared shortly afterwards, with the 
 end of his morning cigar still held between his lips, and, 
 almost ignoring Koehler's bow, he shook hands with the 
 Adjutant and requested him to send the new arrival to 
 his office. Here again he took no notice of Koehler's 
 salute, and after listening negligently to his report, said, 
 in an almost offensive manner : 
 
 " I see by your papers that you were obliged to leave 
 your former station through debt ; you must alter your 
 ways of living here, sir ! The slightest relapse that 
 comes to my knowledge will result in your being 
 cashiered. Thank you." 
 
 " Would you allow me to mention one thing, sir } said 
 Koehler timidly, before leaving the room. 
 
 " What do you want } " 
 
 " My quarters in the barracks are infested with 
 vermin, and are not habitable in their present state." 
 
 " Not habitable ? " answered the Colonel sharply. 
 ** Your predecessor lived there three years any- 
 way one does not enlighten one's Colonel on these 
 subjects. Go and see the inspector of the barracks about 
 it" 
 
 52 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 Koehler had not expected a particularly friendly 
 reception, but he was not prepared for the Colonel's 
 extreme abruptness. He had to put up with it, however, 
 and pocket his pride, which was by no means a novelty 
 to him. It was unfortunately one of the sanctioned 
 privileges of those in authority to cruelly illtreat their 
 subordinates, who were grimly bound by military disci- 
 pline and the fetters of forced obedience ; and to protect 
 themselves by the power of their rank, when some 
 subordinate so far forgot himself as to behave like an 
 ordinary human being and retaliate. 
 
 Human feelings and individual character did not as 
 a rule fit into the stereotyped mould, consequently they 
 were always suppressed as being a nuisance and incon- 
 veniencing the personal ascendancy which, thanks to the 
 star sewn on his shoulder, all higher officers possess. But 
 what was the use of worrying over it .** 
 
 Koehler went back to his quarters in a depressed 
 frame of mind. On the way he met Gallwitz, whom he 
 scarcely recognised in uniform, and who was busy in- 
 specting his troop's kit for the manoeuvres. The latter 
 waved his gloves at his new comrade, who acknowledged 
 the greeting coldly and passed on. 
 
 He had still to report himself to the commander of 
 the battalion, but at present Major Preusse was busy 
 doing accounts and did not wish to be disturbed. He 
 had already had a notice left in Koehler's room by the 
 orderly, to the effect that he should expect him at his 
 office at 12.30. Both arrived punctually, and the ex- 
 tremely kind reception which he received from the Major, 
 almost made Koehler forget his former grievances. 
 
 53 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 " I cannot exactly congratulate you on being here," 
 said Preusse, offering Koehler a chair, "but I am 
 delighted to see you. Your father was an old school 
 friend of mine. How is he ? " 
 
 " He is very well, thank you, sir," answered Koehler. 
 
 " I am glad to hear it ! H'm — have you reported 
 yourself to Captain Baer yet ? " 
 
 " I have, sir ! " 
 
 " And what did he tell you about your work ? " 
 
 " Nothing, sir. He only measured my collar." 
 
 " Of course, of course — that's just like poor old Baer," 
 said Preusse, laughing heartily. " Well, well, you must 
 try and get used to him. He is a bit fussy, isn't he } 
 You understand — but you will soon get on all right 
 with him." 
 
 " I hope so, sir." 
 
 " You hope ! " cried Preusse, much amused. " You 
 seem to me a young sceptic. Well, well, we shall see. 
 By the way — I leave you to judge how far it is good for 
 you to make friends with your comrades. But a little 
 caution is always a good thing, and if you ever feel 
 at all lonely, my wife will always be pleased to see 
 you as often as you care to come. Now, good-bye, 
 I have still some work to do at the mess. At present I 
 am mess-president," he added in explanation. " If you 
 have nothing better to do you might accompany me 
 there, and I can introduce you to your future comrades 
 at the same time." 
 
 During the " morning beer " and the lunch which 
 followed Koehler had ample opportunity of studying his 
 new brother officers. They were all different, and yet 
 
 54 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 in appearance exactly like the usual type which he had 
 grown to know only too well in his former station. The 
 prevailing tone, however, was absolutely different. The 
 scandalous and often doubtful conversation, which was 
 carried on during the meal, the extremely free and easy 
 way of behaving towards each other, and the coarse, 
 unrestrained manner of speaking, disgusted Koehler 
 beyond measure ; but what struck him particularly 
 was the insulting way in which they all spoke of their 
 superiors, even before the mess waiters, without any 
 objection being made by First-Lieutenant Schill, the 
 senior officer present. The more or less scandalous 
 stories which came to Koehler's ears on this occasion 
 were perhaps extremely interesting, but left no doubt as 
 to the morals of the regiment, which — without being a 
 paragon of virtue or a model of all the proprieties — could 
 not fail to be shocking to him. The conversation to-day, 
 well sprinkled with spicy jokes, turned chiefly on the 
 person of a Captain Vogel, who, as Koehler gathered 
 from various remarks, lived with his six-year-old son in a 
 house in the town, and let rooms to his brother officers. 
 The last two lodgers had simultaneously given up their 
 rooms, and were now relating, in the most unrestrained 
 manner, the cause of their departure, thereby disclosing 
 facts which made the other men's hair stand on end, 
 more especially Koehler's, who was quite ignorant of the 
 circumstances. 
 
 " A regular brothel, gentlemen ! " said one of them at 
 the conclusion of his interesting narrative, and seemed 
 to be rather proud of himself for having turned his back 
 on the house. 
 
 55 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 The meal finished, Koehler accepted Schill's invitation 
 to accompany him to his rooms in the town. Although 
 he had not approved of Schill's passive attitude during 
 lunch, yet Koehler was interested in this man who, from 
 his appearanee, might have been taken for the com- 
 mander of a company. His quiet and reliable manner, 
 his decisive way of speaking, and the serious expression 
 of his handsome face, commanded a certain amount of 
 respect, if not exactly sympathy, and Koehler wondered 
 all the more that his appearance alone did not have the 
 effect of keeping the conversation at mess within decent 
 bounds. The two now left the mess-room, and strode 
 silently down the street side by side. It was not until 
 they had left the long wall surrounding the barracks 
 behind them that Schill turned and said half aloud : 
 
 " All the walls have ears here." 
 
 " What } " asked Koehler, who had not quite under- 
 stood what Schill said. 
 
 " Oh — nothing," answered Schill. " By the way, 
 what did you think of the mess to-day, on your intro- 
 duction to it .? " 
 
 Koehler did not answer. 
 
 " Don't be afraid of saying what you think ! " added 
 his companion after a slight pause. " I should not be 
 offended if you called it — bestial." 
 
 " Do you really wish to hear my candid opinion 1 " 
 answered Koehler, in an embarrassed tone. " Then I 
 must say — but perhaps the circumstances were to blame 
 — I mean " 
 
 " I know — I know ! " interrupted Schill, with a quiet 
 laugh. " Look here, I have lived eight years in this 
 
 56 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 village, and have never met anyone who has not turned 
 up his nose at the very question I put to you. But it is 
 a good thing to be reminded of it on these occasions, for 
 one so easily becomes hardened, and ceases to take much 
 notice of things which must strike others as incredible 
 from an impartial point of view. Perhaps you wonder 
 why I look on in silence, instead of interfering as I 
 ought to. I used to do it sometimes, and each time it 
 caused an uproar, so now I let them go their own way 
 unhindered." 
 
 " I do not doubt that your position is a very difficult 
 one," replied Koehler, " for some of the men seem to be 
 somewhat — how shall I put it i* — somewhat queer lots." 
 
 " Queer is a mild expression, I know a better." 
 
 " I had the opportunity yesterday afternoon of 
 meeting Gallowitz, Von Ranch and " 
 
 " Oh, that set," interrupted Schill, rather startled, " I 
 am almost too late then. I had the — call it what you 
 will — indiscreet, uncomrade-like intention of giving you 
 an opportune warning, as I think it is a good thing to 
 open the eyes of the uninitiated as to the circumstances 
 of one or two of the men here, before he becomes more 
 intimately associated with them." 
 
 " I am very grateful to you and can quite understand 
 your wish after my experience of yesterday." 
 
 " I am glad of that ; but we will wait until we are in 
 my den. I have already remarked that everything has 
 ears. You will soon find that out for yourself." 
 
 It was not far to Schill's lodgings ; they were in one 
 of the big houses situated in the chief street of the town, 
 which made a pleasing impression seen from below. 
 
 S7 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 Whilst they were ascending the stairs Schill told his 
 companion that he had lived here with his mother ever 
 since he had been transferred from his last station. His 
 room was a large simply-furnished apartment, the walls 
 covered with book-cases, and on the writing-table, 
 over which hung a large picture of the Emperor, lay a 
 mass of books, manuscripts, and ordnance maps in the 
 wildest confusion. The whole room gave ample evidence 
 that Schill occupied his spare time in study. 
 
 " You seem to be very industrious," remarked Koehler, 
 with his eyes fixed on the writing-table. 
 
 " Well, yes," answered Schill, " the little there is to 
 do here is not sufficient occupation, and a special aim to 
 work for is necessary, if one does not wish to join in the 
 amusement of the younger officers." 
 
 " Are you preparing yourself for an instructorship at 
 a military college ? " 
 
 " Yes," answered Schill, sighing. " I am going to 
 have one more try. I have failed twice already, but I 
 am going to make * a triple idiot ' of myself, as it says in 
 the ' Terminus Technicus.' " 
 
 " But why, when you " 
 
 " I tell you," said Schill bitterly, " when a middle- 
 class individual like myself comes from the frontier 
 bringing only a little learning and a written report from 
 his Colonel that he cannot recommend him, instead of a 
 lot of good introductions and a list of swell connections, 
 he may have all the knowledge in the world at his 
 finger-ends, but all the same he will fail." 
 
 " Don't you get on well with the Colonel ? " asked 
 Koehler astonished. 
 
 58 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 " No, unfortunately I do not ! " was Schill's answer. 
 " At least at the last examination he wrote me a conduct 
 report which left nothing to be desired^ in the way of 
 baseness. What I have done to him goodness only 
 knows, but he simply cannot stand me." 
 
 " But surely that was very " 
 
 " Mean you were going to say } Yes, it is — but we 
 are powerless against it. Conduct is called in Latin : 
 pectoralis reservatio et proprius motus, and the things 
 attributed to us by our superiors must be true, just, 
 logical, etc., etc. They are not answerable to anyone for 
 what they say, as it comes under the head of the proper 
 maintenance of discipline. Would you complain to them 
 that you had been calumniated ? " 
 
 " Under these circumstances I should certainly think 
 seriously about it, before I let the fruits of my best years 
 be wasted." 
 
 " You mean that it's a pity about the work } Don't 
 say that — you see — but you must just make yourself 
 quite comfortable — come and sit in my grandfather's 
 chair and light a cigar — please ! " 
 
 So saying he pointed to a cigar-case and lighting a 
 short pipe himself sat down in the well-worn office chair. 
 
 "You see," he began again, "I should not like to 
 give up my work. If one does not keep one's mental 
 abilities up to a certain pitch, they become blunted by 
 the monotony of military work. The quantity of mental 
 exercise that one gets out of one's winter work is very 
 meagre, to say nothing of the fact that most of us 
 follow the old method of copying it all off two days 
 before it is wanted. Above all, one does not get one's 
 
 59 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 money's worth out of military service. As long as 
 an officer's work is confined to counting the bricks 
 in the barrack-walls, varied by continually looking at 
 his watch or the barrack-gates, to see if it is time to be 
 released, or if the Captain is coming ; as long, I main- 
 tain, as that continues, military service is more than 
 deadening to the mind. One can hardly wonder that 
 most officers look upon it as a wearisome interruption of 
 their leisure, and the rank and file as the cause of many 
 vexations and of countless tricks. When we start 
 remedying this mental lassitude in our private life, 
 we begin to regard our military duties from a higher 
 standpoint, and then even the monotonous recruit-drill 
 becomes interesting. For, after all, it is a very interest- 
 ing profession, in which one has to shape all sorts of 
 different individuals and characters to the same end. 
 We extend our knowledge of human nature enormously, 
 gaining many a curious experience, and, above all, we 
 are never bored. Then, we attain the desired result so 
 much more easily if we do not treat our men as though 
 they were all of the same pattern. We are forced, in 
 self-defence, to find our satisfaction in our work, for 
 what is there beyond } 
 
 Koehler had been listening attentively. Never 
 having regarded his profession in such a serious light, 
 he felt almost as though his companion's words were a 
 personal reproach. 
 
 " Perhaps you are right," he said, with some hesitation, 
 relighting the cigar which had gone out, while Schill 
 gazed out of the window with an air of depression ; then 
 he sighed deeply and began again : 
 
 60 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 "In order that you should not misunderstand me, 
 I must say, were I to ask anyone to tell me honestly 
 whether nowadays our profession would suffice a 
 man who had high ambitions, they would have to 
 acknowledge — sad as it seems — that it does not. All 
 the beautiful ideals with which we started have faded to 
 mere figures of speech ; we see in ourselves nothing 
 more than an easily replaced — or even under certain 
 circumstances — useless wheel of a machine, whose work 
 can be done quite as well by another. Should we 
 disappear from the scene some day, it is just the same as 
 though we had never existed. And if we go farther 
 into the matter and ask : What use are we to the nation ? 
 We do not even know how to give a satisfactory answer. 
 The beautiful dream of training the people may at one 
 time have been the business of the army ; but it is so no 
 longer, for the good which the influence of military 
 training effected has become a mere illusion, so that the 
 advantages and disadvantages balance, unless we go 
 over to the sceptics and say with them that the army is 
 the school of social democracy. 
 
 " Certainly that overshoots the mark ; but a decided 
 and preponderating influence on the nation by military 
 training exists, like many other things, only on paper. 
 And what work is there left for us 1 To keep Germany's 
 enemies at bay ! Good Lord, have we not ceased to believe 
 in that .? Can we obtain sufficient joy in our profession 
 from this thought when we read daily how the various 
 national alliances, the diplomatic relations of countries, 
 and similar arrangements are causing the likelihood 
 of a war to recede farther and farther into the distance ? 
 
 6i 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 " As a last consolation we have the pride in our 
 uniforms and our titles. Can we *on our word of 
 honour ' look upon this pride as being fully justified ? 
 I say : No. Our position is no longer a sufficiently 
 irreproachable one in the eyes of the world to enable us 
 to wear our uniforms in the proud consciousness that 
 glances of the highest respect only will be our portion ; 
 and I must confess, whenever I go amongst my fellow- 
 men, I am tormented with the uncomfortable feeling that 
 the respectful looks, to which I as an officer am entitled, 
 are not nearly as numerous as the sneering comments 
 and malicious remarks with which the sight of a uniform 
 inspires all rightly-thinking people in these days. 
 
 " That is my belief, dear Koehler, and it is doubly 
 painful for a patriot like myself." 
 
 Schill had let his head drop between his hands, and 
 was gazing thoughtfully out of the window at the grey 
 autumnal sky, and Koehler thought he saw a furtive tear 
 in his companion's eye. He himself felt strangely 
 moved, for Schill's words had made a deep impression 
 on him. They made him realise the intense pain which 
 an ambitious, irreproachable and veteran officer like 
 Schill, must have suffered to have formed such an 
 embittered judgment of his profession through force of 
 circumstances. Had it not all come honestly and truly, 
 straight from his heart, like one complete word which 
 had been built up letter by letter by the logical process of 
 his own mind } And to every letter hung a drop of 
 his heart's blood, joining them all together into one word 
 which passed sentence of death on a world of ideals, 
 hopes and joys. 
 
 62 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 " You must not take it all so tragically," Koehler said 
 at last. 
 
 " More than one person has told me that before," 
 answered Schill with a sad smile. " To be sure I 
 have become a pessimist ; but do you imagine that 
 the surroundings in which we are forced to live here are 
 not the very ones to convert us to pessimism, unless we 
 scrupulously avoid thinking seriously about anything, 
 and merely perform our daily round like a machine "i 
 
 *' When I was transferred here eight years ago on the 
 formation of the regiment, I found a body of officers, who, 
 like myself, were proud to guard one of our remotest out- 
 posts. But they left one by one, others came, and the 
 garrison to-day has become what the authorities will 
 not, however, acknowledge : a penal settlement for those 
 who are being given their last chance of proving whether 
 they will make up for past failings, and atone for their 
 former sins which were the cause of their failure in other 
 stations." 
 
 " You are passing judgment on me by those words," 
 said Koehler, deeply stirred, "for perhaps you do not 
 know that I have been sent here through getting into 
 debt." 
 
 "Is that all.?" laughed Schill. "If one was to 
 condemn you for that, then one might as well summarily 
 dismiss the entire body of officers. He who throws 
 stones at us for that reason should first prove that he 
 would manage better under the same circumstances. 
 An officer does not suffer any personal detriment 
 through having had debts when he has once paid them, 
 especially nowadays, when they have come to be con- 
 
 63 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 sidered a necessary evil. But we have to call men 
 * brother officers ' who by rights would come under the 
 head of depraved characters, if they did not happen to 
 wear the Emperor's uniform. Guard yourself from 
 them." 
 
 "What I saw yesterday," answered Koehler, "cer- 
 tainly gave one some idea of what they were." 
 
 "Then you have seen it yourself, and you will not 
 look upon me as a calumniator. I do not include 
 Gallwitz, who is more fit to be in a lunatic asylum than 
 to do an officer's work. I refer to men like Ranch, who 
 had to efface himself from his former garrison on 
 account of an illicit love-affair, and Kollmann who was 
 mixed up in a very disreputable card scandal. How- 
 ever, it will suffice for to-day if I tell you to guard 
 against these men, who are unfortunately not the only 
 ones about whom I shall have to warn you. One blames 
 them not only for their past, but for the way in which 
 they have poisoned the entire regiment by their immoral 
 way of living, and have already ruined more than one 
 young fellow who in his ignorance has trusted them. 
 If you keep your eyes open, it will not escape your notice 
 that one or two of our seniors are not quite irreproach- 
 able either. You will soon see this ; and then living in 
 such surroundings as these, we are still supposed to 
 believe in that fairy tale : the honour of belonging to 
 the noblest profession in the land ! Good Heavens ! " 
 
 Schill had become quite excited, and getting up 
 from his chair, threw his pipe with such force on to the 
 writing-table that his guest looked up at him with a 
 startled expression. 
 
 64 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 " Excuse me," he said, " but my blood boils when I 
 think of it all." 
 
 A long pause followed. Schill had seated himself on 
 the sofa, and was absently turning over the leaves of a 
 periodical in silence. Koehler was likewise silent, 
 thinking over all his companion had said. His head 
 was so full of it that it seemed to him as though he 
 had dreamed a confused dream, and awakened to the 
 horrible conviction that this dream was no passing flight 
 of the imagination, but the truth in its most brutal 
 form. 
 
 He experienced a desire to be alone, and getting 
 up, shook hands with Schill and begged to be excused. 
 Whilst thoughtfully descending the stairs, Koehler felt 
 that "he had left behind in Schill's room the few ideals 
 which until now had helped to give him some pleasure 
 in his profession. Yet he firmly believed, from Schill's 
 grasp of his hand on saying good-bye, that, for the first 
 time in his life, he had found a true friend in the circle 
 of his brother officers. 
 
 6s 
 
Chapter III 
 
 THE autumn manoeuvres were over ! 
 On the evening before the enrolling of 
 the recruits, six young fellows were sitting 
 in the inn of their native village round a 
 table well supplied with bottles of wine, over which hung 
 an oil-lamp burning dimly. The pale, reddish-yellow 
 glow lit up the small, smoke-darkened room so feebly 
 that one could hardly recognise the few faded pictures 
 on the walls, or even the highly-coloured portrait of the 
 Kaiser over the stove. The one thing plainly visible 
 was the half-withered oak wreath hung round it by 
 Ernst Grube and George Weidner, who were celebrating 
 their departure with their friends. To-morrow morning 
 they were to present themselves at the rendezvous about 
 three miles distant as future dragoons in the Emperor's 
 army, whence, in charge of an officer, they would proceed 
 with their comrades to their new quarters. 
 
 The autumn wind howled outside, and drove an 
 endless chain of heavy grey-black clouds over the sky. 
 The pale moon peeped at intervals from behind the 
 dark mass and, throwing a feeble ray from time to time 
 through the lattice window of the inn, lit up the figures 
 at the table in silhouette against the greyish white- 
 washed walls ; then, swiftly disappearing again behind 
 the clouds, left a pale yellow margin at the edge of the 
 blackness. The merry songs with which the evening 
 had begun had ceased ; silent too were the thundering 
 cheers for which Grube had called for the Kaiser and 
 
 66 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 the regiment. Grube's brother Wilhelm sat before the 
 worm-eaten spinnet in the corner with his head sunk on 
 his breast. Hitherto he had accompanied the noisy 
 songs as well as he could ; now, like the rest of the 
 company, he sat lost in thought. The approaching 
 departure of his brother made him very unhappy. Had 
 he not been his only friend and untiring help in the 
 management of their father's farm since their parents' 
 death ? For Sophie, the sister, did not care much for 
 her household duties, but preferred to gad about with 
 the village youths, or to go and gaze at the shop windows 
 of the neighbouring town, returning home late in the 
 evening laden with all sorts of finery and rubbish, to the 
 great annoyance of her brothers. 
 
 One thought oppressed him above all others : how 
 much longer would he live ? The serious lung affection 
 from which he suffered robbed him of the hope of ever 
 seeing his brother again. 
 
 Ernst might, from all appearances, have been 
 thinking the same thing, for he also sat silently at 
 the table, with his head supported in his hands, hardly 
 noticing what the others were saying. For him, 
 there was not only the parting from his delicate 
 brother, and the sister whose frivolity he had been able^ 
 to a certain extent, to hold in check by his personal 
 influence, but also from Mary Siebert, his sweetheart, to 
 whom he must bid farewell, in the painful consciousness 
 that two rejected lovers welcomed his departure as 
 giving them an undisturbed opportunity of making 
 advances towards the object of Grube's affections, whose 
 constancy was not her strong point. 
 
 67 F 2 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 George Weidner, on the contrary, was quite happy. 
 Not only because he painted a soldier's life in rosy 
 colours to himself, but more particularly because at last 
 he was escaping from the strict supervision of his father ; 
 for old Weidner ruled his son with a rod of iron, the latter's 
 frivolous disposition coming continually into conflict with 
 his father's solid and old-fashioned principles. 
 
 " So you see yourself a ' non-com.' already, my boy," 
 shouted Weidner, slapping his future comrade boister- 
 ously on the shoulder. 
 
 Grube looked up half scornfully, half reproachfully, 
 taking no notice whatever of the loud laughter of the 
 others. 
 
 Weidner, who laughed loudest at his own attempt at 
 a joke, now got up, and, pushing William off the stool, 
 began playing the accompaniment of a song with excru- 
 ciating discords, and, with the exception of the two 
 Grubes, all joined noisily in the singing. 
 
 Evidently the wine was beginning to affect their 
 speech ; nevertheless the little room was soon filled with 
 the wildest shouts and noises ; once more glasses were 
 clinked all round, and Weidner called to the bar for yet 
 another bottle. 
 
 Thus things became lively again. William Grube 
 had already disappeared from the room, and his 
 brother, who could not stand the noise and drinking, 
 followed him shortly afterwards. His departure was the 
 signal for a shower of coarse witticisms at his expense. 
 But he paid no heed, wishing only to be alone with his 
 thoughts. 
 
 He did not see his brother anywhere outside. The 
 6Z 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 wind had gone down a little, and the moon was shining 
 clearly in the sky, whilst the last dark bank of clouds 
 was vanishing behind the horizon. At that moment the 
 melancholy tones of the village clock rang out in the 
 clear freshness of the autumn night, and the howling of 
 a watchdog in the neighbouring village completed the 
 wailing music which echoed like a funeral dirge across 
 the quiet land, bathed in glistening moonlight. 
 
 Grube walked slowly down the village street. It 
 was now silent, only the wind blew softly through the 
 rustling foliage of the giant chestnut trees, which reared 
 their russet branches on either side of the street. 
 
 On reaching the outskirts of the village near his own 
 house he sat down on an old bench by the wayside. A 
 strange feeling came over him to-day that he was not 
 only bidding farewell to his home but also to life itself. 
 Was he not leaving behind in the uncertain hands of 
 Fate all that had hitherto been dearest and most 
 precious to him ? What would happen to them all 
 before he returned ? Grube rose almost involuntarily and 
 walked towards the cemetery where the tombstones 
 shining in the moonlight seemed to beckon him on. He 
 wanted to see for the last time the grave of his parents. 
 His footsteps almost startled him as he drew near to the 
 peaceful abode of the slumbering dead, and his shadow 
 seemed a gloomy spirit following wherever he went. 
 When at last he knelt before his parents' grave, he felt 
 like a thief who was robbing the dead of their repose in 
 order to find peace for his own rebellious soul. 
 
 He knelt long on the damp earth, holding secret 
 spiritual communion with the beloved dead and receiving 
 
 69 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 their comforting words, and it was not until he heard the 
 mournful sound of the village clock once more that he 
 came back to reality and thought of the living who were 
 calling him, and among them the one person who must 
 have been waiting for the last hour to say good-bye. 
 Always good-bye ! The word struck as cruel as death 
 itself. Rising, he hastened back to the village, for he 
 had promised to pay his sweetheart a farewell visit. 
 
 His nerves were excited. Sometimes he would 
 suddenly look back, or stand listening, as though he saw 
 or heard some ghostly presences now behind, now beside 
 him, which always melted away into moonlight when 
 he strove to recognise them. As he neared his house it 
 seemed to him as though a shadow glided rapidly along 
 the path before him to disappear between the trees 
 planted on either side, and when he reached the spot 
 where it had vanished, he heard a subdued whispering. 
 Ernst was vexed with himself for harbouring such 
 fancies. Was it worthy of a future soldier to be afraid 
 in the dark like a timid child } Then he thought he 
 heard the whispering again — louder this time than before. 
 With one stride he was at the other side of the chestnut 
 tree, and saw his sister in the arms of a young fellow from 
 the neighbouring village. 
 
 This sight brought him forcibly back from the land 
 of dreams and fancies to reality. A sudden fury 
 possessed him ; Sophie, with a scream, ran into the 
 house, leaving the two men face to face and ready for 
 a fight. 
 
 " What business have you with my sister ? " hissed 
 Grube, shaking with rage and agitation. 
 
 70 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 " What's that to you ? " retorted the other defiantly, 
 clenching his fists. 
 
 " To me ? " roared Grube, beside himself with fury. 
 Hitting his opponent over the head with his walking- 
 stick he felled him to the ground, where he lay 
 unconscious. 
 
 It was the first time that Grube had ever attacked 
 anyone. For the moment he was seized with paralysing 
 terror, and the next it seemed to him quite a matter of 
 course, in fact almost a sacred duty, to knock down the 
 man who had dared to lay hands on his own flesh and 
 blood in the person of his sister. To-morrow he would 
 have to turn his back on his home and would no longer 
 be able to keep a watchful eye on Sophie, which up to 
 now had been his duty ; but he could still take the 
 responsibility for what happened to-day. 
 
 Without vouchsafing another glance to his victim he 
 passed on to his sweetheart's home. He had now 
 shaken off his depression and felt like a man who had 
 fought for his own. Lights were still burning in Marie 
 Siebert's house, and the loud laughter which could be 
 heard through the open window, showed that she was 
 not alone. 
 
 Grube's surmise that he would find his two rivals 
 there proved correct, for they were just taking leave of 
 her. He did not acknowledge their greeting, and on 
 their endeavouring to revenge themselves by saying 
 maliciously : " You seem to think you are a dragoon 
 already," he looked contemptuously at them and 
 answered through his clenched teeth : " If I was Fd soon 
 give you one in the mouth with my sabre." 
 
 71 . 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 In view of Grube's threatening attitude and the 
 rising anger in his eye, they agreed to beat a retreat, but 
 gave vent to their feelings by laughing long and 
 scornfully as they stumbled down the stairs. To make 
 their revenge quite complete they started singing as 
 they went down the street a song of the reserves which 
 they had learnt from the hussars who were quartered in 
 the place last year. 
 
 Grube flung himself wearily down on the gaily- 
 patterned sofa ; it seemed to him as though the events 
 of the evening were perhaps a premonition of the bitter 
 disappointments awaiting him during his term of service. 
 
 " What were you doing with those two ? " he asked 
 Marie in a surly tone, without raising his eyes from the 
 ground. 
 
 " Any one would think we were already married, to 
 hear you ! " replied Marie flippantly. 
 
 " I asked you what you were doing ! " said Grube 
 angrily. Crossing the room with long strides, and taking 
 hold of her arm he began shaking her violently. 
 
 " They asked me to go to the fair," stammered the 
 girl, who was frightened at the anger in Grube's blazing 
 eyes. 
 
 " And shall you go } " he continued, taking hold of 
 her arms still more firmly. 
 
 " Leave hold ! I shall do what I like ! " cried Marie, 
 endeavouring to free herself from Grube's grasp. 
 
 Grube let her go, giving her a ringing box on the 
 ear, which sent her weeping into the corner of the sofa. 
 
 " Now you know the answer ! " growled Grube through 
 his teeth, sitting down on the bench in front of the stove. 
 
 72 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 A quarter of an hour went by, and Marie still sat 
 crying on the sofa, whilst Grube stared gloomily at the 
 floor. At last he got up slowly, went over to Marie, and 
 held out his hand, saying — 
 
 " Now, be a good girl and stop crying ; you see 
 what happens when anyone deceives me! I must go 
 now. Take care of yourself I shall be back on leave 
 at Christmas. Goodbye ! " 
 
 " Goodbye ! " whispered Marie, looking up at her 
 lover with a frightened glance. 
 
 Grube turned away without another word, and went 
 downstairs, but on gaining the front of the house, he 
 thought he heard a timid *' Goodbye ! " called after him. 
 Marie stood at the window, watching her lover till a turn 
 in the road hid him from her sight. 
 
 This was Grube's farewell to his future bride. On 
 the way home he caught sight of the staggering figures 
 of his friends in the distance. Weidner was humming 
 fragments of a vulgar street song, the others accompany- 
 ing him with wild yodels, and Grube was very glad that 
 he had locked the door of his house behind him. 
 
 It was dark in William's room, and on striking a 
 match Grube found his brother lying fully dressed on 
 the bed motionless as a corpse, with an ashen face and 
 eyes burning with fever ; his breath came rattling and 
 wheezing from his chest, and he was so weak he could 
 hardly articulate. Ernst was used to this sight. It 
 occurred whenever William had one of his frequent bouts 
 of coughing, but to-day a cold shudder went down his 
 back at the sight of his brother, who looked so like a 
 dying man. 
 
 73 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 " Poor old fellow ! " said Ernst, stroking his hot 
 cheeks and sitting carefully down on the edge of 
 the bed. 
 
 The match had burnt out, but the moon was shining 
 so brightly into the room that no lamp was necessary. 
 It was only dark at intervals when some little wind- 
 cloud passed over the face of the moon, and then 
 William's rattling breath sounded almost gruesome. 
 Ernst remained some time in silence. Sad misgivings 
 began to fill his mind as to his brother's state of health, 
 just as they had oppressed William himself only an hour 
 or so earlier. 
 
 The thought of losing his brother had never struck 
 him so forcibly as at this moment when it lay like a dead 
 weight on his mind. The pity he felt for the poor 
 young fellow gave him a choking sensation in his throat, 
 and he could hardly keep back the tears which his 
 brother must not see. 
 
 "Look here, William," began Ernst after a while. 
 " I must go away to-morrow. We have always been 
 good friends, and now I shall be here no longer." He 
 stopped and struggled once more with his tears. " How 
 you are to manage it all," he began afresh, " I hardly 
 know. But I always think, that if we do our duty, as 
 our parents taught us to do it, then it will be all right. 
 You will be one hand short, but I shall not . have gone 
 beyond recall, and shall be able to come and see you 
 sometimes. But so long as you are alone always ask 
 yourself : ' How would this action strike me in another ? ' 
 If it seems to you to be right for other people, then well 
 and good. We have no friends, for we have always gone 
 
 74 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 our own way together, and you must not believe anyone 
 who makes up to you, for their intentions are not honest. 
 And remember, William, to take the cattle in soon, for 
 it is already getting cold out of doors, and the meadows 
 are damp. And don't give the dun cow fresh hay, then 
 she will be all right. You must send me the account- 
 books every week, do you hear ? And then, William, 
 about Sophie — never let her out of your sight. You 
 know she is not like her mother. If you cannot manage 
 any other way, you must lock her up in her room — 
 anything to keep the girl respectable! I was in the 
 cemetery just now. Oh, William, I can hardly believe 
 that I must go ! " 
 
 William had not heard the last words, for he had 
 fallen asleep. His chest heaved more regularly, his 
 breathing became quieter, and the fingers grew slack of 
 the hand which his brother held in his. 
 
 Ernst got up noiselessly. At that moment the 
 moonlight was eclipsed, but one last ray, softened by the 
 shadows of the quivering leaves, fell like a caress upon 
 the sick man's brow. A moment later, the remaining 
 pale streaks of light died away into the darkness which, 
 like an evil spirit, stole through the lattice window of the 
 sick man's room. Ernst Grube crept silently away and, 
 
 weeping bitterly, climbed the stairs to his attic. 
 
 * ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ 
 
 Shortly before six o'clock the next morning, Ernst 
 Grube stood at the door of Weidner's house, for they 
 were to accompany each other to the rendezvous. He 
 carried his small amount of baggage in a hand-bag, and 
 in the pocket of the black Sunday coat, which he had 
 
 75 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 inherited from his father, was a supply of bread and 
 butter which Sophie had put on the breakfast-table for 
 him. She herself had not appeared, for her conscience 
 smote her with regard to the affair of the previous even- 
 ing, so Ernst had written the words : " Remember our 
 parents ! " on a piece of paper, which he left on the 
 kitchen table. Weidner kept him waiting a long time, 
 and it was not until Grube had called him repeatedly 
 that he appeared, pale and dissipated-looking, and clad 
 in his Sunday suit. He greeted his friend laconically, 
 and then, with drooping head, tramped along at his side 
 in silence. 
 
 The sun hung like a blood-red ball in the cold blue 
 of the East, and a streak of milk-white, transparent mist 
 lifted itself from the pale gold stubble fields on the right, 
 where the dew-drops, like crystal beads, hung flashing 
 in the morning light. The poplars, bordering the road, 
 threw their long, deep violet shadows across the yellow 
 green meadows to the left, and the mill-stream flowed 
 through them like a glassy thread in the silvery light, a 
 glistening streak between its emerald green banks. 
 
 Weidner inhaled the fresh morning air in deep 
 breaths, for his head still ached from the unusual con- 
 sumption of wine the evening before. Perspiration 
 streamed from every pore and walking appeared to be a 
 sore trouble to him. He leant on his stick like a 
 decrepit old man, and on reaching the first milestone, 
 sat down gasping. 
 
 Grube had no doubt as to the cause of Weidner's 
 condition. Consequently, he said nothing and went on 
 slowly until his comrade was able to catch him up again. 
 
 76 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 They walked on silently, side by side, Grube busy with 
 his thoughts and Weidner with his feelings, which became 
 more unbearable at every mile. 
 
 " Damn it all, I feel so bad ! " he managed to say, in 
 a sepulchral voice, and Grube could not suppress a furtive 
 smile, when he looked at his companion's ghastly face. 
 
 " How funny it is ! " thought he to himself, " that those 
 people who behave as though they could lift the very 
 world off its hinges can be simply done for by the fumes 
 of a bottle of wine." 
 
 Suddenly Weidner leaned against a tree, gave an 
 awful groan, and brought up the entire contents of his 
 stomach, by which process his best Sunday suit suffered 
 a good deal. 
 
 " Thank God I'm rid of it all ! " groaned Wiedner, 
 much relieved, and continued his journey, though some- 
 what perturbed at the state of his coat. 
 
 " Are you going to present yourself to the lieutenant 
 in that condition ? " asked Grube, laughing. " You will 
 make a good impression." 
 
 Weidner looked at the speaker aghast. That point 
 
 of view had not occurred to him ; for a moment he 
 
 stared helplessly around, then, putting his bundle down 
 
 n the road, strode through the wet grass to the stream, 
 
 and began to clean himself carefully. 
 
 But the harmless water of the streamlet was not 
 equal to removing the stains of red wine from his light 
 Sunday suit, so Weidner returned to Grube very little 
 cleaner than he left him, and they continued their inter- 
 rupted journey. Despite the repeated entreaties of his 
 gasping companion, Grube walked briskly on, for he did 
 
 77 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 not wish to be unpunctual in his first military service. 
 When at last the clock towers of the town became 
 visible through the morning mist they had to hurry still 
 more, for it was only a few minutes to the appointed hour. 
 
 Two rows of young men, arranged according to 
 height, were already drawn up in front of the Town 
 Hall. Each carried a small trunk, and they made a 
 bright picture in their varied assortment of garments. 
 On the right flank stood a tall and immaculately-dressed 
 young man in a top hat, who introduced himself to 
 Lieutenant von Rauch, who was to accompany the 
 recruits, as Baron von Scharf, and handed him a letter 
 from his father, which contained a request to give his 
 degenerate son a sound thrashing on every possible 
 occasion. 
 
 " We'll soon cure you ! " murmured Rauch after 
 perusing the letter. Then throwing a contemptuous 
 glance at this sprig of nobility, he ordered him then and 
 there to throw away his eyeglass, which hung round his 
 neck by a broad silk ribbon. 
 
 The recruiting sergeant of the district was making up 
 for the days when he had been a recruit himself, and was 
 shouting at the men like the messenger of the Last 
 Judgment. On catching sight of Grube and Weidner, 
 he rushed at them like a fury roaring : 
 
 " Now then you damned set of dawdlers, get along 
 and report yourself to Lieutenant von Rauch." 
 
 " Why are you so late .? " said Rauch impatiently, to 
 Grube who was the first to report himself. 
 
 " Excuse me, sir — " began Grube nervously. 
 
 " I'll soon teach you to call me * sir,' " interrupted 
 
 78 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 Rauch, " excuse me * Herr Lieutenant/ you should say. 
 We shall soon knock your dawdling ways out of you. 
 Take your place in the front row, you lout ! " 
 
 Grube slunk away like a whipped dog, and was 
 shoved into a gap in the first row by the sergeant, while 
 Weidner approached Rauch. 
 
 " What do you think you look like, you pig } " roared 
 Rauch afresh. 
 
 Weidner did not answer at first, then he replied, with 
 blazing eyes — 
 
 " Excuse me, sir, but I am not a pig." 
 
 '* Hold your row, you fool of a peasant ! " cried Rauch, 
 purple with rage. " You do not seem to know that you 
 are already under military discipline ! Sergeant, put 
 him down to be reported at once ! " 
 
 " Yes, Her-r-r-r Lieutenant ! " bawled the sergeant in 
 answer, and the gaping street boys had bets as to which 
 could imitate the roll of his r's best. 
 
 The sergeant now read out all the names in turn in a 
 stentorian voice, and after each man had replied " Here ! " 
 he informed Rauch, trying to stand at attention and bow 
 at the same time, that " All was in order." 
 
 The non-commissioned officers of the dragoon regi- 
 ment who accompanied them now counted the sections, 
 fell in line themselves, and, wheeling round, the next 
 minute they were marching to the railway-station amidst 
 the cheers of the street boys. 
 
 The journey was long. The recruits, who were 
 tightly packed in third-class carriages, had ample time 
 to think over the offensive things that Rauch and 
 
 79 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 the sergeant had said to them. Neither were the non- 
 commissioned officers who were superintending the 
 transport over gentle in their speech or actions, so that 
 most of those who the day before had sung *' Oh, to be 
 a soldier ! " with enthusiasm began to think that they 
 had been a little previous in their hymn of praise to the 
 profession. The smart baron, to whom travelling third 
 class was quite a novelty, looked upon himself as a 
 martyr among sinners and flicked every bit of dust off 
 his frock coat with his polished finger nails, looking back 
 regretfully on his school-days, and wishing he had then 
 made better use of his time so that he might have passed 
 the examination which would have let him off with 
 one year's service. He unpacked his dainty luncheon 
 from his leather hand-bag, amid the amused glances of 
 his fellow-travellers, and eat it thoughtfully, while 
 comparing his elegant patent-leather shoes with their 
 countrified foot-gear. It was not until he noticed the 
 sergeant's suggestive clearing of his throat that he 
 thought of offering him a portion of his meal, an offer 
 which the former made no pretence of refusing, managing 
 also to hint in the course of conversation that he was an 
 ardent smoker, and especially enjoyed a good cigar after 
 his meals. 
 
 Lieutenant von Ranch sat in his second-class 
 compartment and was informed by the senior non- 
 commissioned officers at every stoppage that all the 
 " raw recruits " were still there. 
 
 The men had long since finished the provisions 
 which they had brought with them, and welcomed the 
 sergeant's announcement that " feeding time " would be 
 
 80 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 at ten o'clock ; and although there were still some hours 
 to wait till then, the homesick, disappointed and hungry 
 party brightened at the news. 
 
 The longed-for meal, however, was not as great a 
 treat as they expected, and all hopes as to quality 
 and quantity were dashed to the ground on the appear- 
 ance of some extremely watery soup. The small piece 
 of sausage served with it was just enough, as Weidner 
 elegantly expressed it, to fill his hollow tooth, and some 
 even had the experience of watching their neighbours 
 enjoying the portions which should have been theirs. 
 Those who happened to have a little pocket-money 
 bought other things to supplement their meagre supper 
 from the manager of this impromptu canteen. The 
 baron would not, of course, touch anything, but dined, as 
 it behoved a nobleman, at a small table in the corner, 
 amusing himself by pinching the cheeks of the pretty 
 waitress. At the conclusion of his meal he asked the 
 permission of the cigar-loving sergeant to take a walk 
 up and down the platform, as the air in this " booth " 
 resembled that of a monkey-house. The sergeant, in 
 the hope of further regalements, readily consented. 
 
 When Lieutenant von Ranch had finished his 
 elaborate meal in the room specially prepared for the 
 officers' mess, and each recruit had received a woollen 
 rug as a protection against the cold during the night 
 journey, all the names were read out again. 
 
 This time they were, unfortunately, not all "present," 
 for the Baron was missing. Had the officers who were 
 sent to look for him known that he was now well on his 
 way to Berlin, they would not have troubled to shout his 
 
 8i G 
 
iiTrti-iTi iriTfiiiiiii I 
 
 Dear Fatherland 
 
 name incessantly into the darkness of night. They were, 
 however, soon obliged to acknowledge the sad fact, that 
 the recruit Baron von Scharf had either met with an 
 accident or deserted, and the train went on again, twenty 
 minutes late. 
 
 The result of this was that Lieutenant von Rauch 
 commanded that no man was to be allowed out of the 
 carriage for the rest of the journey. " I'll soon teach the 
 dogs how to behave," he said to the deeply chagrined 
 sergeants. 
 
 It was a long while before the transport train reached 
 its destination. According to orders it was obliged to 
 leave the rails clear to all regular passenger-trains, 
 consequently, hours were spent waiting at some of the 
 larger stations. At last the morning came, and the non- 
 commissioned officers were busy shouting harsh com- 
 mands to the weary recruits to get out of the train. The 
 latter were so worn out with the journey, that not even 
 the cheerful sound of a march played by the regimental 
 band could raise their saddened spirits, and those who 
 before could hardly wait for the moment when they 
 should don the king's uniform had had all their pleasure- 
 able anticipations knocked out of them, a feeling of 
 anxious curiosity taking its place. No one spoke, 
 and all moved automatically forward in step to the 
 music. The colonel of the regiment stood ready to 
 receive them in the barrack square, accompanied by the 
 captains of the squadrons, who proceeded to distribute 
 the recruits to the various troops. They sampled with 
 critical glances the " raw material " lined up before them, 
 whilst the Heutenants loitering about made sarcastic 
 
 82 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 remarks on the somewhat peculiar appearance of some of 
 the yokels in their Sunday garments. 
 
 " Well, I never saw such a crew," said Lieutenant von 
 Kollman, in the presence of the recruits, to Koehler, who 
 was standing near him engaged in an animated conver- 
 sation with Schill. " They're a regular band of cripples." 
 
 " They cannot all be as handsome as you," returned 
 Koehler, with a glance at Kollman's knock-kneed legs, 
 and went on talking to Schill. 
 
 In the meantime the colonel was dividing the recruits 
 into lots, and, an hour later, they were marching in troops, 
 under the guidance of the sergeants, to their various 
 quarters. 
 
 Grube and Weidner had, thanks to their stalwart 
 figures, been allotted to the first troop, and, in conse- 
 quence, were under the same sergeant and shared the 
 same quarters. Weidner rejoiced openly over this, but 
 Grube listened indifferently to his demonstrations of joy, 
 this arrangement not being at all to his liking. He 
 realised that his countryman was not destined to make 
 many friends among the authorities, and as he had 
 determined to stand by Weidner through thick and thin, 
 especially now that they were in the same troop and 
 shared the same room, he feared with reason that some 
 day he would find himself entangled in some unpleasant 
 affair through Weidner's thoughtlessness. 
 
 Lieutenant von Rauch did not hear any compli- 
 mentary remarks about himself on reporting the dis- 
 appearance of the recruit Baron von Scharf. Colonel 
 von Held was not only annoyed at the thought of the 
 proceedings which would result, but disappointed of the 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 chance of satisfying his curiosity as to the Baron himself, 
 whose father had written him a similar letter to that 
 which Rauch had received. 
 
 Krantwurst, the fat sergeant of the first troop, was 
 full of activity. 
 
 " I've never had such a lanky lot as this before," he 
 grumbled angrily to himself, for he found great difficulty 
 in getting uniforms to fit the new recruits. Weidner's 
 long arms and legs caused him a great deal of trouble, 
 for the largest coat had the shortest sleeves, and the 
 longest trousers were so tight that the seams cracked 
 when Weidner got into them. A fatigue jacket was the 
 only thing to be found that fitted, and Weidner, to his 
 great disappointment, was obliged to content himself 
 with this, whilst his comrades were each given their full- 
 dress uniforms, which however were not very beautiful 
 in appearance. Nevertheless, said the sergeant — " Now, 
 you have all been given perfect things, and the devil 
 take you if you don't take care of them ! " But the blue 
 cloth had a faded appearance, the collars were no par- 
 ticular shade, and the place where the sword-hilt had 
 rubbed, looked as though it had never been any colour 
 at all. Nevertheless, it was the king's uniform, and 
 most of them surveyed themselves proudly in the long 
 glass in the passage. 
 
 That evening troop No. i found themselves sitting 
 round the spotlessly scoured table, and the light from 
 the big hanging lamp shone brightly on the metal of the 
 swords and helmets which the recruits were polishing 
 with great energy. Sergeant Gross was unceasingly 
 active during this performance, initiating his new sub- 
 
 84 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 ordinates into the art of cleaning their things, often 
 lending personal assistance. 
 
 " Boys," he would say, " do you realise what it is to 
 belong to the ist troop of squadron A? It means that 
 you are the ten finest fellows in the whole corps." 
 
 The recruits soon began to have confidence in their 
 cheery sergeant, who spoke so pleasantly to them, and 
 made harmless jokes now and then, accepting with a 
 smile the laughter which followed. Sometimes he would 
 blow a bugle, and explain its meaning. 
 
 " Now, listen to me a minute, boys," he would wind 
 up, looking at the clock whose hands pointed to 8.30, 
 and, pursing up his lips, he would whistle the tune of the 
 evening tattoo. "When you hear that, then you jump 
 into your bunks double quick ; and when the reveille 
 sounds in the morning, then you tumble out of your 
 bunks double quick. D'ye see } " 
 
 With this the duties for the day were done. Weapons 
 were hung in the arms cupboards, swords and sheaths 
 separated, helmets put away under the paper bags 
 in the cupboards, the table washed, and three jugs of 
 water fetched by the room orderly. Then the call which 
 Gross had just whistled was blown in earnest, and the 
 recruits crept into their clean beds. The climbing 
 process by which they reached the topmost berths 
 seemed very strange to them, and they bitterly regretted 
 the indispensable chamber utensils they were accustomed 
 to at home, but all were glad that the longed-for bed-time 
 had at last arrived. When, half an hour later, Gross 
 crept out of his cubicle, which was nothing more than a 
 larger cupboard, he satisfied himself that all his recruits 
 
 85 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 were in the arms of Morpheus and, turning out the 
 lamp, he went to bed himself. 
 
 The bugle call, which had been so gladly welcomed 
 the evening before, was heard with less enthusiasm the 
 following morning. But Sergeant Gross was already at 
 his post, and soon turned out the tired sleepers by his 
 good-natured raillery. 
 
 " Troop No. I should be No. i to arrive in the stables. 
 You don't want to disgrace yourselves before ' the gees,' 
 do« you .'* They will already have had their breakfasts, 
 and will be treading on your corns if you are late ! " 
 
 A few moments afterwards Gross was marching in 
 quick time with his troop to the stables, where, according 
 to the forage-master's instructions, he pointed out to 
 each man the horse he was to groom. Weidner was 
 given one called " Anna," who greeted her future groom 
 — who had dashed into her stall full of enthusiasm for 
 his work — with a well-aimed kick, which sent all the 
 grooming brushes and rubbers flying out of his hand, 
 and when he sought shelter by her neck from her hind 
 legs she seized him in her teeth by his one and only coat, 
 tearing out a large piece, to say nothing of a portion of 
 the shirt underneath. 
 
 Grube, on the contrary, whose " Zebaoth " stood in the 
 next stall, had first to induce him to get up, for in spite 
 of Gross's assertions, he was not yet quite awake ; but 
 when at last he got on his legs, he sniffed his new 
 comrade with a pleased air, whinnying with satisfaction 
 when he felt the touch of the currycomb on his neck. 
 
 " Now then, at it with a will, men ! " cried Gross, who 
 Z6 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 was standing by, and seizing a currycomb, proceeded to 
 give an example of how it should be done. 
 
 The men of Troop i had reason to congratulate 
 themselves on their friendly sergeant, for nothing was 
 heard from the other portions of the building but 
 swearing and reproofs. After each recruit had cleared 
 away the manure and refuse from the piece of asphalted 
 gangway belonging to his stall and bedded down his 
 own horse, his stable duties were ended, and after some 
 coffee at the canteen the first riding-lesson took place. 
 
 The large, open riding-yard lay behind the barrack 
 buildings, and was surrounded to-day by numerous 
 spectators who were looking forward to the highly- 
 amusing spectacle afforded annually by the recruits' first 
 riding-lesson. The onlookers were not disappointed, 
 for the would-be cavalrymen on being mounted on the 
 stirrupless saddles struggled wildly to sit upright, but 
 invariably slipped down on to the horses' necks. 
 
 One recruit, whose restive steed returned him 
 promptly and in none too gentle a manner to Mother 
 Earth, got up howling like a small child, and declared 
 that he " would not mount again for any money," and 
 on the riding-instructor replacing him roughly in the 
 saddle, immediately slipped off the other side. 
 
 The majority of the horses, however, were kind, and 
 leaned over to the left side to enable their riders to 
 mount more easily ; some even went so far as to turn 
 and grasp their riders by their trousers, giving them a 
 lift up. At last they were all in the saddle, listening 
 attentively to the instructor's directions, with the excep- 
 tion of Weidner, whose Anna galloped ventre a terre 
 
 87 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 right across the square, with the agonised recruit hanging 
 frantically round her neck. When she returned, carrying 
 her tail proudly, to her place in the division, she had 
 thrown her rider on to the sand by a sudden swerve. 
 
 Gallwitz went from one division to another with a 
 kodak, taking snapshots of the men struggling for the 
 mastery over their horses to add to his ''Album of 
 handsome Men." This album contained not only 
 photographs of the rank and file, but also snapshots of 
 his superiors, taken in comic situations ; for example, 
 one of Riding Master Baer, which Gallwitz had taken, 
 during the last manoeuvres, whilst the former had been 
 in an undignified position. But the chefs-d'oeuvre of this 
 album were a series of photographs representing Grete 
 seated on Kollmann's grey charger in the costume of 
 Eve. These had been taken in Kollmann's quarters, 
 for the faithful ''Abdul" would follow his master up- 
 stairs, and had often been known to partake of a glass of 
 champagne at the mess. 
 
 It was not until the sergeant had announced the 
 arrival of the Riding Master by a loud whistle that 
 
 Gallwitz relinquished his occupation. 
 
 ***** 
 
 Lieutenant von Koehler had been handed over two 
 divisions of recruits to instruct. First-Lieutenant 
 Schill who had served during the manoeuvres in Riding 
 Master Baer's squadron, and had been now transferred 
 to this one, was entrusted with the instruction of the 
 non-commissioned officers and men of the second year's 
 service. 
 
 Riding Master Baer attended to-day's lesson from 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 beginning to end, and declared that Koehler, who was 
 instructing here for the first time, had done so all wrong ; 
 according to his own opinion he always knew everything 
 better than anyone else, in spite of the fact that he was 
 known to be the worst rider in the regiment, and was 
 not worthy of his title. Being found fault with was 
 nothing new to Koehler, but this everlasting assumption 
 of superior knowledge was too much of a good thing, 
 and already during the manoeuvres he had begun to look 
 on his work with dislike. He always knew beforehand 
 that every plan he made would be upset by Baer, who 
 would pronounce it wrong. He had never yet succeeded 
 in pleasing him, and often after having taken endless 
 trouble with his men, Baer would merely say, in his abrupt 
 manner, that he had better go and read up his instruction 
 books. At the same time it would have been useless 
 to try to find out Baer's interpretation of the various 
 branches of instruction, for in the course of time he had 
 formed a set of regulations of his own, and the officers 
 under him had to act accordingly. Even Schill, of whom it 
 was said that he knew all the rules and regulations back- 
 wards and could repeat them in his sleep, had received 
 a strong hint, during the last manoeuvres, to observe the 
 imperial order that any personal alteration of the field- 
 service regulations was liable to result in dismissal — and 
 only to-day Baer had read the all important preface to 
 the book of riding instruction to Lieutenant von Koehler in 
 a tone of reproach — " To act according to these rules from 
 henceforth and to admit nothing further except with my 
 sanction which will be made known through the War 
 Office." 
 
 89 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 But for Baer such words existed only on paper. 
 
 His regulations were his gospel, and woe to those 
 who went against them ! For the rest, he ruled with a 
 pedantic regard for minor details. Frederick the 
 Great's words : " A imez done les details, Us ne sont pas 
 sans gloire. Cest le premier pas qui m^ne a la victoircy' 
 was a motto well suited to him. 
 
 It is true that he, like many other people, quite 
 misunderstood the real meaning of these words, which 
 hung over his writing-table in gold letters, although they 
 were never intended to be applied to the narrow outlook 
 of a small-minded pedant. During the manoeuvres 
 Schill had been reproved by Baer for carrying out an 
 independent movement without orders, and had 
 answered in the words of the regulations : — 
 
 "Every officer should be ready to risk his own 
 personality in the fulfilment of his duty — regardless of 
 future vindication — in all situations — even the most 
 unusual — without waiting for orders as to details." 
 
 Whereupon the angry riding-master would have liked 
 to bring him before a court-martial for breach of 
 discipline. 
 
 The mental restrictions of this man, his limited out- 
 look, which never got beyond the laborious principles 
 and prejudices of the pedant, closed his eyes to the 
 ideas and views of other people, and the narrow standard 
 by which he was wont to measure everyone, combined 
 with his deep-rooted egotism, made him cantankerous on 
 all occasions. Disagreeable criticism or favourable 
 opinions were both equally obnoxious to him if they did 
 not happen to agree with his personal views. 
 
 90 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 Koehler was especially hurt by the riding-master's 
 censure to-day, for he did not at all like being reproved 
 before his recruits on the first day of his instruction, and 
 instead of the pleasure with which he had come on duty 
 that morning, he was now conscious only of extreme 
 annoyance, which effectually did away with all keenness 
 for his work. He felt that his authority had been 
 trodden under foot in the presence of his subordinates, 
 and he himself put to shame before the non-commissioned 
 officers, whose efforts had been approved by Baer as being 
 in accordance with his old-fashioned notions. So 
 Koehler commanded his sergeants to continue the 
 instruction, whilst he himself stood by his squadron in a 
 state of suppressed rage watching Baer walking back 
 to the barracks. When he had disappeared from view, 
 Schill came up to Koehler and said with a weary 
 smile : — 
 
 " Cheer up ; I have not fared much better ; he 
 declared that my methods, which I have gathered from 
 years' experience, and which no one else has found 
 fault with yet, were * sheer lunacy.' " 
 
 " Then he can look after his business by himself," 
 answered Koehler angrily. " I'm hanged if I will stand 
 any more of this sickening blowing up ! " 
 
 " Steady on," said Schill with a bitter laugh. " You 
 will have to get used to it by degrees." 
 
 " But to be hauled over the coals before one's men 
 for every little fault is too much of a good thing. I 
 am not an officer for that." 
 
 " Good God ! " sighed Schill. " What is one an 
 officer for at all. Judging by Baer one would imagine 
 
 91 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 that one was there either as a butt for his vile temper, 
 or as a means of carrying out his numerous fads. At 
 the best one is only a wheel of the big drilling machine, 
 and that is something ; for nowadays the pleasing 
 occupation of superintending drill is the quintessence of 
 military thoroughness. If one makes a mistake during 
 the field exercises it does not much matter, for the 
 tactics are only imaginary, after all ; but if, during 
 inspection, one man's nose is allowed to protrude an 
 inch beyond the others, or any of his straps to be 
 wrongly fastened, it is a deadly offence and can 
 cost one very dearly. But there ! These pettifogging 
 details are good enough for such high aims. Is the 
 Colonel any different to Baer, or the General any 
 different to the Colonel } Both are more concerned as 
 to whether everything is correct at an inspection than 
 whether a so-called military ideal or the ; genius of a 
 great general lurks in their brains. They may not all 
 be such sticklers for detail as Baer, but most of them 
 have been, some time or other ; and one must ' jump 
 with the cat,' for that is the only way to get on. In- 
 telligence is the least thing required ! " 
 
 " Thank God ! " laughed Koehler ironically. 
 
 " You may be sure," continued Schill, " that the 
 thoroughness of one in authority is less the result of his 
 intelligence than of his strength of character, which 
 comes far more into the question. 
 
 " Then it does not say much for the characters of 
 these same officers." 
 
 *• To a certain extent, yes. The broadest minded of 
 us who undergoes this course of education in * buttons 
 
 92 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 and straps ' — by which we earn our daily bread — must 
 end in becoming pettifogging Philistines. Our best 
 qualities run into extremes when we are made to con- 
 form to false principles, the energetic becoming fanatics 
 and the reflective indolent. When day by day we have 
 to climb down from the height of our wider out-look — 
 at least our would-be wider out-look — to the level of 
 such pottering details, which are really the business of 
 our non-commissioned officers, we become just what 
 Baer is." 
 
 " I should like to be in some battle with him, if it was 
 only to see how he would behave on being charged by 
 the enemy," sneered Koehler. 
 
 " Well," laughed Schill, " he would probably hurriedly 
 inspect the men's accoutrements. But, thank heaven, we 
 have also others in whom the soldier has not yet been 
 quite killed by these everlasting inspections and parades. 
 A man like Baer and his kind would go to the wall at 
 once when there was really anything serious going on. I 
 have no anxiety on that score, and the French would get 
 as bad a hiding now as they did in the year '70. But 
 unless a change comes soon it will become a serious 
 matter, for this drawing-room service is playing the deuce 
 with all sense of responsibility and self-reliance, two 
 things absolutely indispensable to the winning of 
 battles." 
 
 " Battles ! There are none to win nowadays," 
 laughed Koehler, " we are now merely an * educational 
 force for the nation.' " 
 
 " Quite right ! I should like to know what it is that 
 draws men into the service, when we do nothing but 
 
 93 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 worry their lives out with petty annoyances all day long. 
 They must get just as sick of it as we do, for things are 
 forced upon them daily which induce opposition, bitterness, 
 dislike and want of interest in all that goes to make a 
 soldier." 
 
 "One can hardly blame the men, if they lose all 
 enthusiasm for their profession. 'Tis bad enough for us 
 officers to have to put up with the everlasting chicanery 
 of a riding-master, but the rank and file are never rid of 
 the yoke of the non-commissioned officer." 
 
 " Then again, one can hardly blame the non-com- 
 missioned officers if they make use of a free hand 
 occasionally ; since it has become the fashion to regard 
 the non-commissioned officer of a troop as a sort of nurse, 
 and to haul him over the coals for every button left 
 unfastened among his men, it is natural — or, at least, 
 only human nature — that he should hand down a moral 
 cuffing, received from the higher authorities, in some 
 more practical form. Then there is always a great out- 
 cry, and the wretched non-commissioned officer who, 
 through excessive keenness in his work, or the sheer 
 necessity of avenging himself for the continual bullying 
 by his superiors, orders too severe a punishment, or hits 
 a man, is, in nine cases out of ten, dragged before a 
 court-martial and degraded for the rest of his life." 
 
 " The papers, at any rate, make a good thing out of 
 it, for they are full of cases of ill-treatment of soldiers." 
 
 " I am the last to admit that a man can be treated 
 anyhow, but all these gaping critics who conjure up a 
 crime against humanity out of every well-deserved box 
 on the ears, and will next demand the introduction of 
 
 94 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 rights for the recruits by their twaddle about humani- 
 tarianism, have, most of them, never been soldiers. Only 
 those who have been in a similar situation to the 
 despised offender can understand how often such a 
 blow arises out of pardonable anger, and is in many 
 instances only too well earned. Show me any officer of 
 higher rank in the Army who, at one time or another, 
 has not hit a man out of pure enthusiasm for his work. 
 I acknowledge that I do not look upon it as a particu- 
 larly noble deed to hit a defenceless man, or call him all 
 sorts of offensive names, and I do not want to defend 
 brutal superiors ; but I repeat that energy turns to 
 brutality when continually suppressed by circumstances, 
 and prevented from being the means to an end. There- 
 fore I say a non-commissioned officer who strikes at the 
 right moment is preferable, in my opinion, to the weak- 
 ling who lets the fault pass without reproof for fear of the 
 consequences of infringing some rule of the men's rights. 
 The blow which the officer gives with the best intentions 
 ought not to injure him morally in anyone's eyes." 
 
 " Finally," replied Koehler, " what does it matter 
 to a young peasant if he does get a rap on the 
 knuckles for once .? He has been accustomed to being 
 knocked about at home, where our class would only 
 receive a jobation, and the majority of them would 
 look upon it as a matter of course and a part of their 
 instruction, if they had not been already primed with 
 the notion that the least * ragging ' was an insult 
 to their honour, and every rough bit of handling a 
 ground of complaint. But that is the weapon we have 
 put into their hands as a defence against the oppressive 
 
 95 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 zeal of their superiors, rendering the lives of the non- 
 commissioned officers more difficult than ever." 
 
 " Those are just my views ! " answered Schill 
 excitedly. " One cannot be too careful to guard against 
 deliberate ill-treatment and unscrupulous brutality ; but 
 this conventional drivel about humanitarianism, which is 
 increasing every day, is a sign of the decadence of the 
 times and the military spirit cannot cope with it." 
 
 At the conclusion of his speech Schill accidentally 
 turned round and found Sergeant Rickert standing 
 behind him in a pensive attitude. 
 
 "Well, Rickert," he said kindly, "you didn't hear 
 anything, did you } " 
 
 " Not a word, sir," answered Rickert in his deep 
 voice ; " but Herr Oberleutnant is quite right ! " So 
 saying he went away, thoughtfully stroking his snow- 
 white moustache. 
 
 Meanwhile ii o'clock had struck. The riding 
 division marched back to the barracks, most of the 
 recruits being very glad to get off their horses, and the 
 officers' riding-lesson now began, which was held by 
 Major Preusse at the racecourse. He laid special stress 
 on teaching the gentlemen the practical side of the riding 
 instructions as contained in the handbook on the subject, 
 following the text of the latter as closely as possible, in 
 order that they should be able to make use of their 
 knowledge when teaching the recruits. He did not stop to 
 consider that his efforts would probably find little favour 
 with the majority of his superiors, who, according to their 
 opinions, had invented far better methods of their own. 
 
 96 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 At the close of the riding-lesson Kollman was in the 
 habit of giving an exhibition on " Abdul," who performed 
 various circus antics, such as going on three legs, dying, 
 dancing, etc., and on Preusse's leaving the ground, !Gallwitz 
 treated them to an indescribably comic take-off of the 
 Major's wife riding in a paper-chase. 
 
 For this purpose he rode as on a side-saddle, falling 
 off at the hurdles, after suddenly giving a perfect 
 imitation of the good lady's scream and pretending to 
 arrange the skirt, which was supposed to have flown 
 over his head. Unfortunately the gracious lady had 
 recently afforded her husband's officers this spectacle at a 
 gymkhana. Koehler was very annoyed at Gallwitz's 
 performance, for he looked upon it as most ungrateful 
 towards the ever-helpful Major, who always stood by his 
 comrades at all times, both on and off duty, and would 
 sooner part with his last penny than refuse any of them 
 who came to him in pecuniary difficulties. They all 
 liked to visit him, for his wife kept open house and a 
 hospitable table for all his guests. Koehler was conse- 
 quently disgusted at the way they made fun of her 
 behind her back, and seized an opportunity of saying so, 
 but was rewarded by a few sarcastic remarks. 
 
 Koehler personally was fast friends with Preusse, 
 having often been a guest at his house under Schill's 
 escort, and felt very much drawn towards this man, who 
 invariably lent a willing ear to other's troubles, and 
 could always find an excuse for everyone, although he 
 kept the strictest watch over his own actions. To be 
 allowed to listen while Preusse and Schill discussed 
 political, scientific, or subjects of general interest, made 
 
 97 H 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 up for some of the miserable hours which, thanks to 
 Baer's care, were of frequent occurrence. 
 
 Preusse was a friend in whose presence one felt 
 raised above the petty worries of the daily routine, 
 and fell unconsciously under the spell of the ambitious 
 and far-seeing spirit of a man who was an example of 
 uprightness both in his work and private life, and who 
 was staunch to his Kaiser and his profession, looking at 
 both from a higher standpoint than the majority of his 
 fellow-officers. It was quite natural that the highly- 
 gifted, but at the same time modest and retiring, Major 
 should not harmonise with a pedantic, self-conscious and 
 unapproachable man like Colonel von Held. Conse- 
 quently, not only had the relations between the two 
 always been strained, but it was extremely doubtful 
 whether the Major would ever receive his expected 
 promotion, for he had many proofs of the sort of 
 character which the Colonel would give him to the 
 authorities. Nevertheless, Preusse never let a word of 
 criticism escape him with reference to his Colonel, and 
 never failed to accept his continual censure with an 
 absolutely correct bearing, which, however, only made 
 the Colonel more spiteful than ever. Nothing would 
 have pleased the latter more than to engage Preusse — 
 whose mental and personal superiority was oppressive to 
 him — in a discussion, so, that he might report him as a 
 " difficult subordinate." For this reason his intercourse 
 with Preusse was always marked by an uncourteous 
 severity, in the hopes that the Major would be driven 
 to answering him back ; but so far his efforts had 
 been fruitless. 
 
 98 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 As Koehler left the race-course, he found the sergeant 
 of his squadron waiting outside the door. 
 
 " The Colonel wishes to speak to you, sir." 
 
 " The Colonel ? " asked Koehler, astonished. " Yes, 
 I'm coming." 
 
 " Excuse me, sir — I think the Colonel wishes to 
 speak to you about just now ! " 
 
 " About just now ? What do you mean } " 
 
 " I mean about the time when you were talking to 
 Lieutenant Schill, sir." 
 
 " Did he notice that, then V asked Koehler, astonished. 
 
 " Not the Colonel himself, sir ; but the Riding-Master 
 sent me to go and look." 
 
 "And you informed him that we were conversing 
 with one another ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; and the Riding-Master informed the 
 Colonel." 
 
 " Good ! " said Koehler, shortly, and proceeded to the 
 regimental bureau. 
 
 Colonel von Held hardly took any notice of him as he 
 entered, clicking his spurs sharply together, but remained 
 sitting in the office-chair in front of his writing-table. 
 This annoyed Koehler, who once more brought his spurs 
 together with a loud click. Now the Colonel glanced 
 ominously in his direction. 
 
 " I report myself according to your commands ! " 
 
 Held got up slowly, and put his cigar-end to one side. 
 
 " Riding-Master Baer has informed me," he began in 
 a cutting tone, " that you make use of your riding lesson 
 to carry on a conversation with the other officers. You 
 know as well as I do what a bad example that is for the 
 
 99 H 2 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 men who have just entered the service. If you do not 
 like your profession, and have no sense of duty, you 
 can seek some other occupation. I dismiss you with a 
 reprimand. Thank you ! " 
 
 The Colonel returned to his writing-table, whilst 
 Koehler, trembling with rage and disgust, left the 
 room, and, passing through the ante-room, was followed 
 by the knowing glances of the secretary and the 
 orderlies. 
 
 Koehler was not so angry at the reprimand itself 
 — although it was his first in eight years of military 
 service — as at the cause of it, and the deceitful way in 
 which Baer had put him under the sergeant's super- 
 vision, denouncing him upon the information of one of 
 his subordinates. He could not help thinking also, 
 that the punishment was unfair, for only the day before 
 the Colonel had ridden by and saluted a group of officers 
 who, instead of superintending the exercises of their 
 men, were recounting, amidst loud laughter, Gallwitz's 
 latest jokes, which he had brought back from the 
 manoeuvres. Why should not these men have been 
 punished too } asked Koehler of himself. Why had 
 not the Colonel reprimanded them on the spot, instead 
 of implying by his attitude that he tolerated such things, 
 or, at most, was indifferent to them } 
 
 Koehler was furious, and determined to complain of 
 the Colonel's behaviour to Major Preusse, so went off at 
 once to look for him, finding him, genial as ever, in the 
 office of the mess, busy helping the mess sergeant with 
 the monthly accounts. They went together to the 
 reading-room, and Koehler began to explain his case, 
 
 100 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 winding up with the request that Preusse would under- 
 take the role of mediator on this occasion. 
 
 The Major listened attentively, and remained silent 
 for a short while. Then he began, shaking his head to 
 and fro thoughtfully : 
 
 " Dear friend, let me tell you something. If you wish 
 to hear my own private opinion on the matter, well and 
 good, I will give it you. From a judicial point of view 
 there is undoubtedly cause for complaint, but to com- 
 plain of one's colonel is a nasty business, and a thankless 
 one for him who plays the part of intermediary. I 
 realise that in this case it is my duty to fall in with your 
 wishes and act as mediator for you, and I will do it 
 willingly enough, but you may be sure that nothing will 
 come of it. If you get justice done you, then you will 
 have the Colonel down on you for ever. You might as 
 well clear out at once ; for a senior officer can always — 
 if he wants to — find a corpus delicti^ out of whom he will 
 take his revenge, sooner or later, and that does not seem 
 to me worth risking in this case. Then do you suppose 
 for a moment that the Brigade Commander — who is 
 practically the court of complaint — would listen to 
 Lieutenant von Koehlerwith his bad record } He would 
 be sure to agree with every word his beloved Colonel 
 said. Don't you think he would do all in his power to 
 shield Held } It would be the same thing in the higher 
 court. Moral : leave it alone and pocket your feelings. 
 That is the best advice I can give you." 
 
 " But I cannot possibly ignore such an injustice, sir ! " 
 urged Koehler, *' my self-esteem rebels against it, to say 
 nothing of " 
 
 lOI 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 " Your self-esteem ? " interrupted Preusse. " My 
 dear friend, when you are a few years older, you will 
 look elsewhere for your self-esteem than to the spiteful 
 vagaries of your superiors. Do you know where my 
 self-esteem lives ? There ! " striking his breast, " there 
 it lives and no one can take it from me, else I should 
 have lost it long ago. Believe me, even a veteran like 
 myself will have to stand many another attack on it ; but 
 the unpleasant things I hear go in at one ear and out of 
 the other — and have you ever heard anyone call me a 
 moral coward } " 
 
 Koehler looked down rather sheepishly. This 
 man, with his proud resignation, impressed him ; his 
 arguments seemed so convincing that Koehler had no 
 longer any doubts as to taking Preusse's advice. At the 
 same time, the thought of having to put up with the 
 insult without taking any further notice of it was galling 
 to him, and he said to Preusse : — 
 
 " But couldn't it be done in some other way — I mean 
 couldn't one make the Colonel realise somehow that 
 he " 
 
 " Well, yes," interposed the Major — " I know a way. 
 If you like I will go to Held in your name and inform 
 him that, judging by his reprimand, you feel that he is for 
 some unknown reason exceptionally dissatisfied with you, 
 as he subjected you to exceptional treatment. Therefore, 
 you ask, through me, for instructions how to behave 
 in future in order to give him the same satisfaction 
 other officers appear to do. Will that suit you ? " 
 
 " If you would be so kind, sir — certainly, I think it is 
 a very good idea." 
 
 102 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 " Right ! " said Preusse, shaking Koehler's hand. " I 
 will let you know the result to-morrow." 
 
 Preusse went back to the mess sergeant, and Koehler 
 returned, considerably relieved, to his quarters. 
 
 At eleven o'clock the next morning Major Preusse, 
 in full uniform, was announced to the Colonel. Held 
 received him in his usual disagreeable manner, listened 
 in silence to what he had to say and, when Preusse had 
 concluded, replied : " Do I understand that this is a com- 
 plaint made by Lieutenant von Koehler, Major, or does 
 he wish to call me to account through you ? " 
 
 " Call you to account 1 " answered Preusse modestly. 
 " No, sir. As an old officer I should not have had any- 
 thing to do with him in that case. Lieutenant von 
 Koehler only asked for information how to behave 
 correctly in future." 
 
 *' I cannot decide on an answer at this moment," said 
 the Colonel grimly. "You can state the grounds of 
 your complaint in writing, in the form of a report, and 
 send it in to me this afternoon. I thank you." So 
 saying he sat down again at his writing-table, leaving 
 the Major standing there in confusion. 
 
 Preusse went at once to Koehler and told him of the 
 result of his interview with Colonel von Held. 
 
 " Now we shall have to be careful," he said, " else we 
 shall both be getting into hot water." Thereupon they 
 proceeded to compose the desired report in the most 
 cautious language, and punctually at twelve o'clock it lay 
 on the Colonel's writing-table. 
 
 Exactly twenty-four hours later Lieutenant von 
 103 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 Koehler stood before Colonel von Held, and was in- 
 formed that he was to answer for himself before a court- 
 martial for " questioning his superior's actions." Mean- 
 while he was suspended from duty until further notice. 
 
 Both Koehler and Preusse were speechless. The 
 latter had looked upon the Colonel's command to write 
 a report as a piece of boorishness, and was disgusted 
 beyond measure at the unworthy thought which he must 
 have been entertaining at the time. 
 
 "This is a pretty kettle of fish," he kept on 
 murmuring to himself, endeavouring at the same time 
 to comfort Koehler in his misfortune. Things were not 
 much better for Preusse himself, for he was quite certain 
 that he would be drawn into the business as an accom- 
 plice in a case of breach of discipline, if the court-martial 
 did not end in acquitting Koehler. 
 
 The two were frequently together during Koehler's 
 suspension, Schill, who quite shared their views on the 
 subject, making a third. But they did not all feel quite 
 so hopeful as Koehler's counsel, who looked upon the 
 case as already won ; for to them it seemed hardly .likely 
 that the district commander in his position of judge 
 would be untrue to the standpoint expressed in the 
 statutes, which ran : " An officer who has once had a 
 verdict against him must be condemned ! " 
 
 All the moods and doubtful charms of " suspension 
 from duty " were no longer new to Koehler, and this 
 time he went through just the same experience as in 
 his last garrison. 
 
 " Comradeship is a compulsory living together, in 
 which :each individual, with but few exceptions, only 
 
 104 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 stands by his neighbour as long as it suits his con- 
 venience, and as long as no situation arises which would 
 entail the smallest sacrifice of his convictions, or personal 
 comfort, on the altar of conventional, neighbourly love." 
 The whole corps showed remarkable conscientious- 
 ness in carrying out the Colonel's wishes that a suspended 
 officer should be cut off from all intercourse with his 
 fellows, and refused to look upon his honour as stainless 
 until he had had every speck removed from it by a total 
 acquittal. When Koehler, accompanied by Schill, met 
 some of his brother officers, whilst exercising his charger, 
 they bowed to him as though he were a complete stranger, 
 and seemed highly astonished that such a criminal 
 should carry his tarnished honour in broad daylight 
 amongst his fellow-men. 
 
 Three weeks after the day of suspension the court- 
 martial took place. Colonel von Held and Major 
 Preusse were called as witnesses, and besides the officers 
 of an infantry regiment from a neighbouring garrison, 
 who were ordered to appear as judges, two military 
 advocates sat at the green table, upon which stood a 
 crucifix. One of the latter, an intelligent-looking man 
 of attractive appearance, conducted the proceedings ; the 
 other appeared as Public Prosecutor. The latter sought 
 to make up for the want of intelligence in his face by 
 assuming a strange and threatening judicial aspect, 
 which had just as comic an effect as his speech, delivered 
 in the most atrociously paragraphed German, which 
 described Koehler as an undisciplined and inferior indi- 
 vidual, devoid of all military qualities, so that Preusse, 
 
 105 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 who was in no laughing mood, could not help whispering 
 to Koehler in fun, " By Jove, what a bad lot you must 
 be!" 
 
 At the conclusion of the speech by the counsel for 
 the prosecution, the counsel for the defence began his 
 reply. He pointed out that it was impossible to find 
 any breach of discipline in the case before them, especi- 
 ally when a Major, grown old in the service, had sanc- 
 tioned it, and had undertaken to be the means of 
 communicating with the Colonel. The transaction, he 
 argued, could only be looked on as bond fide^ and having 
 been done with the best intentions. 
 
 At the conclusion of his defence none of the people 
 present had any doubt that the case would end in an 
 unqualified acquittal. 
 
 It did so ; but an appeal was made to refer the 
 decision to ^^a higher court, and the Brigadier General 
 greeted this decision with the words, " I also hope that 
 they will find him guilty." The higher court-martial, 
 which assembled shortly afterwards, condemned Lieu- 
 tenant von Koehler to eight days' confinement to quarters 
 for " questioning the authority of his superior." 
 
 Major Preusse escaped censure. Koehler's sentence 
 caused the Colonel the liveliest satisfaction, and he gave 
 the affair a place of honour amongst the remembrances 
 of those moments which served to maintain his belief in 
 the thoroughness of his military service ; for he had given 
 those who doubted a fresh justification of his motto : 
 "Smart in service." Sometimes, however, a curiously 
 oppressive feeling came over him, like the pricking of a 
 guilty conscience, when he thought of the Lieutenant 
 
 io6 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 behind the lowered blinds of his dreary quarters, nursing 
 the smarting wound inflicted by his Colonel. In these 
 weary hours of loneliness and bitter disenchantment, 
 Koehler buried the remains of those ideals which had 
 encouraged him in his professional career ; for was it not 
 evident that to live untrue to oneself,:for mere life's sake, 
 was, after all, a kind of moral death ? 
 
 107 
 
Chapter IV. 
 
 A STORM had occurred again in the Koehler 
 family. 
 This time, however, Benno was not the 
 cause, but Lilly, who had at last made up 
 her mind to marry her old admirer, First-lieutenant Weiss, 
 after a long and arduous courtship. 
 
 Old Major von Koehler, whose habitual pessimism had 
 turned to hopefulness now that Benno's affairs were satis- 
 factorily settled, and that the latter, according to his letters, 
 was getting on all right, seemed the least perturbed, when 
 Lilly, on returning from a party one evening, announced, 
 her face glowing with happiness, to the speechless horror 
 of her mother and Edith, that she was actually engaged. 
 During his frequent visits to the house, the Major 
 had grown to believe that Lilly's future husband was a 
 man of open and honourable character. He imagined he 
 could safely trust Weiss with the future happiness of his 
 beloved child, and he also realised that his love for 
 Lilly would enable him to face any sacrifice which 
 circumstances might render necessary, which, indeed, 
 would actually be necessary unless Aunt Stanzchen 
 departed from her traditional ideas and received the 
 middle-class lieutenant as a worthy member of the von 
 Koehler family ; in that case, pecuniary affairs would 
 be simplified. He had nothing to give them himself, 
 and Lilly only possessed thirty pounds in the Savings 
 Bank. It was obvious that the marriage could not take 
 place on that ; therefore he secretly hoped the aunt 
 
 io8 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 would gradually ignore her principles on learning the 
 worth of his future son-in-law. He knew Stanzchen 
 well enough to realise how very susceptible she was to 
 the subtle flattery of a gallant cavalier, and Weiss must 
 be told of this. 
 
 The hint was not necessary. Lilly's fianci had not 
 entered into the engagement quite regardless of circum- 
 stances, as she herself had done ; his great inclination 
 towards her was founded to no small extent on the 
 well-filled purse of her Aunt Stanzchen, from whom, 
 he had been frequently informed, his future bride would 
 some day receive a considerable fortune. He had 
 already decided, if possible, to obtain possession of this 
 money before the old lady's death, and intended to bring 
 the most winning side of his personality, and the charms 
 of which he was fully conscious, to his assistance, never 
 doubting his success for a moment. 
 
 He was not disappointed. It is true that the aunt, on 
 Lilly's personal declaration of the happy event, went 
 from one fainting fit into another, and was hysterical for 
 some hours ; but on consideration of the fact that the 
 engagement had been announced, and therefore there 
 was nothing to be done for fear of public opinion (which 
 was the second most important element in Aunt 
 Stanzchen's life), she proudly resigned herself to the 
 inevitable, and even went so far as to allow herself to 
 be persuaded by Lilly to give audience to this inferior 
 being, who had been raised to the height of connection 
 with her family. 
 
 During the first visit she exhibited a certain amount 
 of condescension ; the second visit she was quite overcome 
 
 109 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 by the young man's charms, and, finally, she was incon- 
 solable if he did not go to see her every day ; so much 
 so, that old Koehler often jokingly asked his daughter 
 if she was not jealous. Stanzchen, however, did not like 
 it at all when the Major spoke of her " young lover," and 
 handed her a daisy to pluck, or told the story of Wallen- 
 stein, who married an old and wealthy woman whilst still 
 quite a young man. Her visits to the Koehler s house 
 became few and far between, and more than once she 
 pleaded a headache when Lilly or her mother went to 
 see her. The Major called this a new "trait of 
 originality," and did not trouble himself any further 
 over it. Altogether, he had become quite different 
 lately. Whether it was because a uniform was con- 
 tinually in and out of the house ; that Benno always 
 wrote the same contented letters, telling him of his friend- 
 ship with Preusse and Schill, so as not to worry his 
 father ; or that it was a weight off his mind to have 
 Lilly's future assured, whilst Edith was taking measures 
 to procure a situation as governess — the old man was 
 now seldom seen in one of his bad humours. He always 
 seemed cheerful, and gave his spontaneous humour full 
 scope, only swearing when he went into the general 
 sitting-room and found all the chairs, tables, sofas and 
 window-seats, covered with linen, lace, dress materials 
 and reels of cotton ; or heard the sewing-machine hum- 
 ming all day long, for his wife worked with untiring 
 energy at Lilly's trousseau. 
 
 So time went on. Lilly's eyes became brighter every 
 day, her whole person seemed turned into a living poem 
 by the magic of the God of Love, and in the evening, 
 
 no 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 when her lover came to see her, she was — as Koehler was 
 wont to express it — quite oblivious to her surroundings. 
 
 Weiss's conscience sometimes reproached him at the 
 sight of Lilly's boundless love and happiness, for he could 
 not honestly say that his love for her had as much to do 
 with the engagement as more material considerations. 
 What the innocent girl mistook for the fervour of requited 
 affection was only passion on his part for this pure 
 and childlike being, whose budding charms fanned 
 the flame of his instinctive desire. When she was 
 lying in his arms, full of almost unearthly happiness, and 
 dreaming of the paradise of love, he was only conscious 
 of the warmth of this fresh young body through the light 
 dress — the sole moral symbol of the conventional restraint 
 enforced by the period of engagement. 
 
 The wedding was to take place at the end of the 
 winter. Weiss thought he would have won over Aunt 
 Stanzchen sufficiently by that time to induce her to allow 
 them an income to marry on, even if she was not prepared 
 to hand over the whole dowry at once. 
 
 In order to obtain the official consent to his marriage, 
 it was only necessary to give a formal undertaking that 
 the regulation sum would be forthcoming, an arrange- 
 ment to which Aunt Stanzchen had already lent a willing 
 hand. She had become wax in Weiss's fingers, and 
 seemed to be living through the romance of her bygone 
 love affair, having quite overcome her prejudice against 
 his inferiority of birth. 
 
 Weiss was secretly triumphant at the success of his 
 tactics. When he once found out that Stanzchen 
 took all his attentions as proofs of his personal admir- 
 
 III 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 ation, it was easy to trade on her emotions. For this 
 purpose he left no stone unturned, overwhelming her 
 with flowers and small presents, and Stanzchen was 
 touched beyond measure to think that her despised 
 admirer saved up his money, even at the end of the 
 month, in order to be able to buy her flowers. Latterly 
 Weiss had been struck with the idea of adding a verse of 
 poetry (taken from an almanac and suited to each day) 
 to his floral tributes, in which Stanzchen, with her vivid 
 imagination, sought to find some hidden word of love. 
 On finding it, she would compose a stilted poetical 
 answer and send it to Weiss in a rose-coloured envelope. 
 She had no idea, of course, of the convulsions of laughter 
 these effusions caused at the mess, where Weiss read 
 them gratis to an appreciative audience ; or of the amuse- 
 ment she afforded her favourite by the clothes she wore 
 for his edification. In order to receive her guest with 
 sufficient honour at tea-time, she had unearthed, out of 
 the furthest corner of the attic, a very d^collet^ rococco 
 costume, which had been the fashion in the days when 
 she was engaged, implicitly believing Weiss's assurances 
 of her youthful appearance. 
 
 The Koehlers shook their heads suspiciously over this 
 strange change in the aunt's behaviour. 
 
 " Well, really, she has gone quite off her head ! " said 
 the Major one day, returning from a short visit to 
 Stanzchen. " It's a fact, absolutely clean off her head ! " 
 
 He had met his future son-in-law there, and the 
 things he had had the opportunity of observing surpassed 
 his wildest imaginations. 
 
 Lilly was annoyed at her aunt's monopolising her 
 
 112 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 fiance two evenings a week, for Stanzchen had insisted 
 on his company at supper on Wednesdays and 
 Saturdays. 
 
 In time this state of affairs became irksome to Weiss. 
 Not because the hours he was constantly obliged to 
 sacrifice to Aunt Stanzchen were waste of time, for he 
 rightly admitted that the result of this comedy was of 
 great importance. Nor because he thought it con- 
 temptible to encourage the old lady's folly. He did not 
 trouble himself much about that, for if an old woman 
 chose to have such crazy ideas, and develop a passion 
 in her old age, the result of which was highly amusing, 
 it was her own fault. His doubts proceeded from 
 another cause : who could say how far Aunt Stanzchen 
 would carry this affair.? She was cracky enough for 
 anything, and, in any case, a bitter disappointment was 
 inevitable for her. The result was easy to see : Stanz- 
 chen would realise that she had been meanly duped, and 
 then her purse-strings would be drawn tight just when 
 her help was needed. 
 
 A few days before Christmas Weiss was to have supper 
 with Stanzchen by way of taking leave of her, for he 
 hoped to spend the festival with his parents in Berlin. 
 The table was covered with all sorts of delicacies, and 
 adorned with a beautiful bouquet of roses, whilst in the 
 corner stood " Widow Cliquot's " greeting. 
 
 Stanzchen received her guest in an elaborate matinee 
 of dark violet silk, with a red rose pinned coquettishly 
 in her hair. Her whole appearance expressed the desire 
 to charm, and on Weiss offering her the usual salute 
 
 113 I 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 she pressed her hand with such vehemence against his 
 lips that it was positively painful to him. Then, taking 
 him affectionately by the arm, she led him to his place 
 at the table. 
 
 During the meal Stanzchen was touchingly attentive 
 to all his wants, keeping his plate well supplied with 
 the daintiest morsels, plying him incessantly with the 
 old wines, which the guest enjoyed considerably more 
 than the society of his hostess, and pressing him con- 
 tinually to empty the large Venetian wineglass, to which 
 Weiss made no objection. Finally, she peeled an Italian 
 pear for him, and shared a " Fhillipine" which she found 
 " by chance," having cracked a few dozen nuts before 
 doing so. Her voice rang clear and sweet, and on her 
 guest's reminding her during dessert of her poetical 
 abilities, she drew a rose-coloured sheet of paper out of 
 her low-cut bodice, and casting a languishing glance at 
 Weiss, began in a voice trembling with emotion — 
 
 IN MAY. 
 
 What time of our life is like beautiful May? 
 When is it we taste all the wondrous delight, 
 Of real and true love, in the strength of its hey-day, 
 Our senses o'ercome by its vanquishing might? 
 When is it we feel we must shout for sheer joy. 
 In the wealth of our love, that no power can destroy ? 
 When is it our life is a beautiful day-dream ? 
 When is it the thoughts of true love reign supreme ? 
 When is it we notice the song of the birds ? 
 When do our shining eyes say more than words, 
 And glow as though lit by the sunlight's bright rays, 
 At the visions unfolded of life's golden days? 
 114 
 
iMftMMiliiiMlrfldUHtMilMMWataiMdMMhMilMiikli^^ 
 
 Dear Fatherland 
 
 It is in May, in May, in May ! 
 
 For the old or the young, for love knows no decay ; 
 
 Installing itself in our hearts, there to reign. 
 
 And bringing the days of my youth back again, 
 
 With the thrills of delight that over one come. 
 
 At the thought of the joys in the life just begun ; 
 
 The passion of love beckons wildly to me, 
 
 My breast fills with hope that quenched it may be . 
 
 Stanzchen got no further, but, producing a lace hand- 
 kerchief, proceeded to dab her moist and shining eyes, 
 " glowing as though lit by sunlight's bright rays " ; glanc- 
 ing coyly the while through the lace edge at Weiss. The 
 latter was staring thoughtfully, first at his dessert plate, 
 then at his glass, filled with sparkling champagne, and 
 watching the endless little string of pearls rise to the 
 surface and fizzle away into nothing. The iron did not 
 appear to be hot, but Stanzchen did not give up all hope. 
 The memory of the happiness which had proved so 
 deceptive in her youth, had always remained with her, 
 growing gradually into an intense yearning, which had 
 ripened lately into an almost exasperated determination 
 to obtain a glance into the kingdom of love, and taste its 
 pleasures at any cost. All sense of discretion and 
 decency gave way before this stubborn and passionate 
 desire which had fanned her woman's instinct to an 
 almost youthful nervous fire, whose glow could only be 
 subdued by the cold douche of a great disappointment, 
 or by complete satisfaction. Stanzchen now held out 
 her right hand across the table to Weiss, who grasped 
 it, looking questioningly at her the while. This seemed 
 to her a suitable moment for continuing her poem, 
 
 115 I 2 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 and she began afresh, at the point where she had 
 left off: 
 
 My breast fills with hope that quenched it may be, 
 
 The hps love's rapturous kisses await 
 
 Till the joys of fulfilment their ardour abate ; 
 
 The blood is warmed by passionate fires 
 
 And fills us with love's strongest, fiercest desires ; 
 
 That is the time of our life that's like May, 
 
 Whatever our age, love will have its own way ! 
 
 The Lieutenant grew hot and cold, for Stanzchen 
 pressed his hand fervently at the end of each line, 
 and on his smilingly assenting to her languishing 
 question : " Do you know what it is to have such feel- 
 ings, dear friend ? " he suddenly found her sobbing on 
 
 his breast. 
 
 * * * ♦ 
 
 When Weiss walked along the dark streets to his 
 lodgings after midnight, he thought to himself, with a 
 cynical smile — 
 
 " I am quite sure that even Ben Akiba never went 
 through such an experience." 
 
 Stanzchen had to pay dearly for her passion. At 
 all events, it was a good thing for Koehler, and the best 
 Christmas present Lilly could have had, when Weiss 
 informed them that the aunt had promised him a 
 preliminary allowance of ;£"25 a month. It was a 
 complete mystery to the Major how his son-in-law had 
 contrived to make Stanzchen open her purse so wide ; 
 in the meantime, the knowledge that she had done so 
 sufficed, for now the financial side of the affair was on a 
 sound basis. What struck everyone as peculiar was that 
 
 ii6 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 Stanzchen repelled, almost rudely, all attempts at thanks 
 on the Koehlers' part, and exhibited a feeling bordering 
 on hatred towards Lilly, whom she had formerly made 
 so much of. 
 
 Everything was very quiet at the Koehlers' on Christ- 
 mas Eve. Aunt Stanzchen for the first time within the 
 memory of man had written to excuse herself, and was 
 celebrating the festival alone. In return for their 
 modest gifts, amongst others a new embroidered coat 
 for Sweet, the pug, from Lilly, she had sent an almond 
 cake, the Major waiting in vain for the usual box of 
 cigars, and his wife for the customary winter dress. 
 Lilly had parted from Weiss with a heavy heart when, 
 three days earlier, he had gone away for Christmas 
 **to put his affairs in order," as he said. Benno had 
 received no leave at all from Colonel von Held, 
 although the Major himself had written urging " family 
 reasons." 
 
 The two sisters sat with their parents in a depressed 
 mood round the modest Christmas tree, seeing no 
 glamour in its twinkling lights, and taking no pleasure 
 in the silently falling snow, when the large flakes, catch- 
 ing the light from the wax candles, fell like stars against 
 the window-panes. The Major's wife was sitting with 
 Benno's letter in her lap, her hands folded over it, gazing 
 into space with tearful eyes. Edith sat at the table with 
 wrinkled brow and compressed lips, turning over the 
 leaves of a Latin grammar which her father had given 
 her that evening. Lilly, with burning cheeks, sat 
 huddled up by the stove, furtively drying an occasional 
 tear, while the Major, with a pipe which had long since 
 
 117 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 gone out between his lips, thoughtful, silent and serious 
 like his surroundings, reclined in his leather armchair in 
 the corner. Even Pieps, the old canary, looked miserably 
 at them, as much as to say : " We have never had such a 
 wretched Christmas before ! " 
 
 Meantime Benno, in his quarters, was unpacking his 
 basket of washing which had just arrived, and which 
 contained not only clean clothes, but a cake made by 
 his mother, a handful of cigars from Lilly, a printed 
 Christmas card from Edith, and a letter from his father, 
 together with the photograph of the engaged couple. 
 
 He studied his fellow-officer's face long and seriously, 
 for with this man rested the future happiness of his 
 favourite sister. It is true he had known him per- 
 sonally in old days, but now that he came to look 
 earnestly at the photograph there was something which 
 did not please him in the face, and he put it down 
 with a sense of dissatisfaction. His father's somewhat 
 serious letter did not help to cheer him either. Was it 
 not the first Christmas he had spent away from home, 
 and all the dear remembrances of his childhood and 
 later years flashed through his mind, leaving him keenly 
 alive to his loneliness. 
 
 He cut a slice of the cake and, munching it thought- 
 fully, sat down by the stove, the glowing coals of 
 which filled the room with a cosy light. Long he sat 
 absorbed in melancholy introspection, while outside in 
 the keen night air the church bells rang clearly over the 
 town. 
 
 It was not until a rousing bugle call was blown in the 
 barracks, that he got up slowly, and buckling on his 
 
 ii8 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 sword, went out. The well-known bugle-call sounded 
 strangely in his ears to-day, almost like a desecration. 
 It sounded for the distribution of Christmas gifts 
 amongst the soldiers. " Everything is done by calls and 
 commands with us," he thought to himself, as he de- 
 scended the stairs ; " even when the Christ Child comes 
 into the barracks, out of the cold night, he is received 
 with the same bugle-call which is blown for * stables ' ; 
 and when the Christ Child has fulfilled his mission in the 
 barracks, he is sent back to heaven with a ' Right about 
 turn — march ! ' " 
 
 All the non-commissioned officers and men, who 
 were not on leave, were already assembled in the room 
 belonging to the ist troop. A Christmas tree decorated 
 with coloured paper, tinsel and candles, and reaching 
 almost to the ceiling, stood on Gross's washing-stand, 
 and on the dressing-table the presents bought out of the 
 regimental money-box were spread out. 
 
 Riding Master Baer, who was also present, received 
 Koehler's salute with a meaning glance at the clock, and 
 proceeded to argue with the Sergeant, who had not put 
 the five apples per man, next the stockings, but next the 
 cigars, although he had especially ordered the reverse. 
 Then he turned his attention to the men, amongst whom 
 he detected some whose neckerchiefs showed a hair's 
 breadth above their collars ; finally venting his wrath on 
 a fat trumpeter who came too late for the chorale. Even 
 Lieutenant Schill, who appeared covered with snowflakes, 
 and as white as a snowman, just as the chorale was 
 beginning, did not escape an official rebuke. 
 
 This "celebration" did not last long. After the 
 119 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 chorale Baer made a short speech, in which he described 
 himself as the " father of the squadron," and then disap- 
 peared with a curt nod into his office. 
 
 The men hastily collected their things : socks, soap, 
 pipes, cigars, pocket-knives, and woollen under-garments, 
 and proceeded to their quarters where a barrel of beer 
 awaited them. 
 
 Only one man was missing from troop No. i, for 
 neither Sergeant Gross nor his men had been given any 
 leave, as at the last inspection they had appeared with 
 oiled instead of waxed saddles and harness. The former 
 treatment gave them a better polish, and Gross had 
 purchased the oil out of his own pocket, being rewarded by 
 an official reprimand and the assurance from Baer that he 
 was an absolutely useless non-commissioned officer and 
 might go and bury himself along with his entire troop. 
 
 The missing member of the ist troop was Grube. 
 He had been informed one day that he was to be court- 
 martial led for assaulting a man with a stick shortly 
 before entering the service, and was undergoing fourteen 
 days' imprisonment in the regimental prison, only to 
 leave it soon after the new year with a blot on his 
 name — a man for whom there would be no promotion, 
 and who would be looked down on by his comrades and 
 superiors as branded — branded because he had fought 
 for his honour. Grube's unhappiness this Christmas 
 was not so much due to the fact that he would have to 
 spend it in the cold narrow cell, where nothing could be 
 seen or heard of the Christmas festivities, and where the 
 cold December wind blew through the cracks of the 
 small-barred window, but because he feared for his 
 
 120 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 brother's life, for some friends of Sophie's chastised lover 
 had spread the news of his imprisonment in the village, 
 and it had reached William's ears. The sudden shock 
 had laid him on his bed again, and he was now feverish 
 and tormented by dreadful fits of coughing. All this 
 was in Sophie's letter, which a non-commissioned officer 
 had just brought as a Christmas greeting from home. 
 His only bit of pleasure had been that, after the tattoo, 
 Weidner had climbed along the drain-pipe on the roof, 
 as far as the window of Grube's cell and shoved a large 
 buttered roll, done up in a piece of newspaper, through 
 the bars. This thoughtful act made him feel that he 
 was not quite deserted, and he resolved never to forget 
 Weidner's kindness as long as he lived. 
 
 The Christmas festivities did not last long under 
 military routine. Any recruit or non-commissioned 
 officer, who was the least bit inattentive, was sure to hear 
 Baer's favourite expression : — 
 
 " Are you still hanging on the Christmas tree ? " 
 
 Work was begun with renewed vigour, if not with 
 any great enthusiasm, for the most important part of the 
 riding instruction was to come — the preparation for the 
 general riding inspection. Three days after Christmas 
 there were no signs that the great festival of the year 
 had just taken place. 
 
 The officers who had gone away on leave had not 
 yet returned to the garrison. Among the sub-lieutenants, 
 with the exception of Koehler, there was only Gallwitz, 
 who swaggered round the snow-covered riding-ground in 
 a shapeless fur overcoat, and if the east wind blew very 
 
 121 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 cold would draw a flask of brandy from his pocket to put 
 fresh life into his benumbed limbs, or smoke a cigarette. 
 
 The Colonel had all his business correspondence 
 brought to him at his house, only going out into the 
 cold winter air when he received an invitation to shoot, 
 or when he wished to make some expedition in his 
 private sleigh drawn by three regimental horses, har- 
 nessed in the fashion of a troika. The riding-masters 
 felt fairly secure from irksome supervision, and only 
 appeared occasionally for a few moments at the barracks, 
 so that the work of instruction lay almost entirely with 
 the sergeant and non-commissioned officers. 
 
 " If only it was always like this ! " old Sergeant 
 Rickert would say sometimes. " Everything goes twice 
 as well when there is not that everlasting fault-finding." 
 Many shared his opinion, on seeing how well the drilling- 
 machine worked without its officers. But they overlooked 
 the imperative need for the existence of a chain of sub- 
 ordinates imbued with a sense of duty and responsibility ; 
 and they did not perceive that this continuous chain, 
 reaching from private to Field-Marshal, formed the entire 
 basis of army organisation, because each individual 
 member of it is responsible to the immediate link above 
 and below him for what is done or left undone. For it is 
 only owing to the fact that no single rung on the military 
 ladder affords a pause from the sense of responsibility, or 
 permits a man to be his own master or judge — even the 
 highest officer, like the king, is answerable for his 
 people — that this great organisation exists, which per- 
 mits no standing still, and keeps all its members, from 
 the highest to the lowest, forever striving and toiling. 
 
 122 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 But such reflections did not occur to any of the non- 
 commissioned officers when their superiors occasionally 
 turned their backs on them, which generally happened at 
 the time of annual festivals. On these occasions the 
 sense of responsibility slackened, discipline was not 
 enforced as usual, and the result was a long list of more 
 or less serious offences. This was especially the case in 
 Baer's squadron, for the more he tormented his men by 
 his irksome oppression the more license they took when 
 his absence gave them the chance of breathing freely for 
 once. Consequently the devil was loose in Squadron A 
 at festival times, and a vast number of punishments for 
 breach of discipline was the inevitable result, which only 
 made the Riding-Master more strict than ever. 
 
 Weidner was on stable duty on New Year's Eve. The 
 non-commissioned officer in charge had left soon after 
 feeding time, having told his men, in case of sudden 
 inspection, to say that he had gone out for a moment, 
 and then to send word to him at once in the room of the 
 second troop. An inspection on New Year's Eve was, 
 however, most improbable, as the officers always spent it 
 away from the barracks at various entertainments. 
 
 Weidner and his two comrades, who were likewise on 
 duty, had no desire to spend their New Year's Eve with- 
 out some sort of amusement, and quickly concocted a 
 plan amongst the three of them. Weidner disappeared 
 to fetch a drink, returning an hour later in the company 
 of a woman, who was no stranger to the other two, for 
 she washed for the non-commissioned officers and men, 
 and was well known to all of them. Those who 
 managed to get into her good graces, or to pay double 
 
 123 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 the amount of her periodical bills, were allowed to 
 join the ranks of the many to whom she did not refuse 
 a tete-d-tete. 
 
 Weidner was, thanks to his personal appearance and 
 well-filled purse, a special favourite, which accounted for 
 her having accompanied him to the stable, which was 
 filled with a comforting warmth. The guest sat down 
 with the three comrades in the straw, and drank copiously 
 of the wine which Weidner had brought from the canteen. 
 Before long she was hopelessly drunk, and when, an hour 
 later. Lieutenant Schill came to change the stable guard, 
 he was not a little astonished to find his washerwoman 
 half hidden in the straw in a strange costume. 
 
 For this New Year's joke Weidner received eight 
 days' imprisonment from the Colonel, and was sent to the 
 cell he knew so well from outside, and which had only 
 just been vacated by his friend Grube, who had left it 
 looking hollow-eyed and pale. At the same time Colonel 
 von Held gave Baer a severe lecture in private over the 
 want of discipline in his squadron, which the latter 
 repeated in still more forcible language to his sub- 
 ordinates. 
 
 * ♦ * * 
 
 First-lieutenant Weiss had not yet returned from 
 Berlin. Although on taking leave of his parents three 
 days after Christmas he had said he was going back to his 
 fiandCy he made use of the remainder of his leave, up to 
 January 5th, to pay one last visit to his mistress of 
 many years' standing, before his marriage put an end 
 to such intercourse. At the same time he knew quite 
 well, that he would not be too particular in this respect 
 
 124 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 in the future, for he considered the marriage tie to be 
 unworthy of our enhghtened 20th century ; therefore he 
 arranged to allow her so much a month, promising to 
 double it as soon as he " had got hold of all that cracked 
 old woman's money." 
 
 He had not the slightest doubt that he would shortly 
 succeed in doing so, for had he not found a way through 
 Stanzchen herself, to the contents of her purse ? A lot 
 could be done before February loth, the wedding 
 day, and a speedy settlement of his debts was very 
 desirable, for the numerous creditors who comforted 
 themselves with the prospect of his marrying money, 
 were not likely to wait long after the ceremony to send 
 in their claims. But Weiss had no doubts as to whether 
 he would succeed or not, for Aunt Stanzchen's letters gave 
 ample proof that her passion had not abated, but had, on 
 the contrary, increased considerably since she had tasted 
 the sweets of love. 
 
 Poor Lilly was bitterly hurt, when her lover's letters 
 became fewer and farther between. At first he had written 
 every day, and she had read his letter over and over again, 
 despite the fact that she looked in vain for the fervour 
 he displayed when he took her in his arms and kissed her. 
 But he had warned her that he was not a good corre- 
 spondent, so she tried to comfort herself with this assurance, 
 which Weiss considered sufficient excuse for only sending 
 her later on a few lines on a postcard. In reality 
 it was because he found it embarrassing to write to and 
 tell Lilly of his boundless love for her, whilst his mistress 
 sat beside him, and her kisses were burning on his lips. 
 However the few moral scruples he possessed were soon 
 
 125 
 
inin ti I »-rtifiiii 1 in 1 I ni^i^^^aMiaaa 
 
 Dear Fatherland 
 
 overcome by his sophistical views of life, and he took 
 to only glancing carelessly through Lilly's loving letters, 
 whilst a whole packet of Aunt Stanzchen's manuscripts 
 lay unopened and unanswered in his trunk. The latter 
 wrote to him almost daily, generally concluding the letter 
 with a love poem, effusions which Aunt Stanzchen could 
 now reel off by the dozen. She herself had only 
 received two picture postcards written in a restaurant, 
 one short letter, and a request by telegram for money, 
 the last of which she promptly answered by sending the 
 desired sum. 
 
 The thought of Weiss's approaching marriage with 
 her rival Lilly, oppressed her heavily, the only thing she 
 could find any comfort in being the fact that Weiss never- 
 theless belonged in heart to her alone. As he would 
 still remain in the place after his marriage she might 
 continue to dream of the joys of love, even though she 
 would have to share the possession of her lover with 
 
 another. 
 
 « « « « 
 
 At last Weiss's conscience smote him, and he returned 
 to his garrison. His mistress accompanied him to the 
 last station but one before his destination, taking leave 
 of him sadly, for this was the last honeymoon they would 
 be able to spend with one another for some time. Lilly 
 was ready to receive him at the next station, showing 
 her pleasure at his return like a child, and on reaching 
 his lodgings he found a note requesting him to go and 
 see Aunt Stanzchen at once. 
 
 The regiment was working at high pressure, for the 
 birthday of the Commander-in-Chief was approaching, 
 
 126 
 
kUMAik^ifeMattaMM 
 
 Dear Fatherland 
 
 with the result that parades and drills were held with 
 untiring energy, whilst all other work was put aside. 
 Numbers of the non-commissioned officers and men 
 were let off duty for whole afternoons and evenings, to 
 attend the rehearsals for the special performances on the 
 27th of January. Each company not only celebrated the 
 day by a grand banquet and a ball, to which the men 
 invited their sweethearts, but there were also performances 
 of military plays. The rehearsals were superintended 
 by an officer, and put down in the parole book as work. 
 
 First-lieutenant Weiss was ordered to take over this 
 occupation, and welcomed it as an excuse for not spending 
 every evening with his^f^^^^;^^ or Aunt Stanzchen, whose 
 increasing passion was growing repulsive to him. A 
 sensual man like Weiss, was only attracted by a woman 
 until he had possessed her completely, after which he 
 experienced a more or less involuntary dislike for the 
 person who, up till then, had been the object of his 
 desires. Thus it was that he now began to feel a 
 strong distaste for Aunt Stanzchen's company, for she 
 did not even possess the advantages of youth, which 
 alone might have prevented his inclination from turning 
 to repulsion, and kept his passion alive for a short time. 
 But as, on the other hand, he was bound to keep on good 
 terms with her for obvious reasons, he was glad to have 
 found a good excuse for not visiting her so often — and 
 the same with Lilly ; for his compulsory intercourse with 
 Stanzchen only increased his impatience for this pure, 
 unsullied girl, and he gladly avoided her house until the 
 time when he should make her his own. 
 
 The 27th of January had come. For the first time 
 127 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 for years the old major took his beloved uniform out of 
 the cupboard, and accompanied Lilly to the parade, 
 which was held in the Market Place. He also accepted 
 an invitation for himself and his wife, from his former 
 comrades, to the entertainment in celebration of the great 
 event, but refused the regimental dinner for economical 
 reasons. 
 
 Edith was away at the time, having gone in person to 
 apply for a situation as governess, with the intention of 
 taking up her position at once under an assumed name, 
 should she obtain it ; thus attaining her desire in life. 
 
 Lilly preferred to remain at home, for Weiss had 
 promised, in response to her earnest entreaties, to come 
 and see her some time during the evening. 
 
 The major strutted up and down the room all day in 
 his finery, stopping frequently in front of the long glass, 
 surveying himself long and thoughtfully, twirling up the 
 ends of his military moustache, smoothing out the 
 creases in his no longer perfectly fitting coat, and 
 straightening the back which had become somewhat bent 
 in the course of years. When the charwoman who had 
 been called in to do the work in honour of the great day, 
 broke his oldest pipe, he swore at her as though she were 
 a recruit, and regretted not being able to order her " three 
 days' arrest." 
 
 At eight o'clock Major von Koehler went to the 
 festivities of the 6th company of Weiss's regiment. His 
 wife accompanied him, and Lilly remained at home 
 crocheting lace for her trousseau. Her cheeks were 
 burning with excitement at the thought of the expected 
 guest, and she counted the hours impatiently as they 
 
 128 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 went slowly by. Whenever the sound of a step reached 
 her through the window, which, despite the cold, she 
 kept wide open, she would look out, breathless with 
 excitement. But each time it proved to be only some 
 uninteresting person in the shape of a drunken soldier, 
 a policeman, or a servant girl hurrying to the soldiers' 
 ball. It was never her lover — he would not, and would 
 not come. 
 
 Weary with waiting and nervously listening to every 
 sound, she laid down her work, and putting the lamp on 
 the end of the piano, subdued its glare by wrapping a 
 newspaper round it. Then she lay down on the sofa, and 
 after several ineffectual efforts to rub the sleepiness out 
 of her eyes, she gave herself up to the arms of Morpheus, 
 in the sweet hope of being roused up by a kiss from her 
 fianci. 
 
 When Weiss came at last, about eleven o'clock, he 
 received no answer to his repeated knocking, so opening 
 the door he went in noiselessly on seeing Lilly lying on 
 the sofa. For a while he stood gazing on the charming 
 picture. Lilly lay there smiling in her sleep, a loose 
 coil of fair hair falling over her shoulder, and her soft 
 bosom in the square-cut bodice gleaming in the subdued 
 light. Sometimes her lips would move as though for a 
 kiss, and she would stretch out her hands as though 
 trying to grasp something. 
 
 Weiss sat down by the sofa. The champagne, of 
 which he had drunk freely, made him giddy, and sent 
 the blood racing wildly through his veins, and on drawing 
 his chair still closer to Lilly's resting-place, his imagina- 
 tion was aroused by the lovely form lying near him. 
 
 129 K 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 The knowledge that the purity and innocence of this girl 
 belonged to him fired his blood and fanned his desire 
 into a fierce flame Suddenly he bent over Lilly 
 
 and clasped her with burning passion in his arms. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 The marriage of First-lieutenant Weiss with Lilly von 
 Koehler took place a week earlier than had been arranged, 
 because — so it was announced — Weiss could then more 
 easily obtain leave for the honeymoon. Whilst Stanzchen 
 was suffering from fearful hysterics at home, the Koehlers' 
 guests were sitting before a well-covered table in the 
 best hotel in the town, regaling themselves at her 
 expense, and wishing the young couple every happiness 
 in endless toasts and verses. And whilst the violins 
 were tuning up to play for the dancing, a group of 
 people stood at the station, taking tender leave of Lilly 
 before she began to tread the path of life at her husband's 
 side, accompanied by the blessings of the entire family. 
 
 130 
 
Chapter V 
 
 THE winter was over. 
 Riding-Master Baer's squadron had been 
 accounted the smartest at the review, for 
 he thoroughly understood the Colonel's 
 ideas on the subject of the training and turning out of a 
 squadron of cavalry, and followed his wishes even to the 
 smallest detail. Consequently Colonel von Held could 
 find nothing to complain of in the men's riding, or the 
 horses' paces. For he was blind to the more serious 
 defects, if he found that his own special fads as regards 
 superficial matters had received scrupulous attention. 
 This flattered his vanity, therefore he meted out 
 special praise to each division of Baer's squadron — even 
 Koehler's coming in for a share. The Riding-Master, 
 however, did his best to spoil the latter's pleasure at 
 the unusual praise by saying to him afterwards : 
 
 " Your division did not please me at all. If I had 
 been the Colonel you would have heard something quite 
 different." 
 
 Schill, on the contrary, was not only taken down by 
 Baer but also by the Colonel, with all the skill the latter 
 possessed in this art. The first division he presented, 
 the HandwerksburscheUy composed of the soldier-servants 
 and of men who plied various trades in the barracks, 
 could hardly be expected to ride well, as they only 
 had two lessons a week and the worst horses of the 
 squadrons. Von Held briefly designated the division's 
 efforts as " a disgusting exhibition," and in order to be 
 
 131 K 2 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 consistent in his condemnation of Schill's pupils, did not 
 alter his criticism for any of the other divisions, although 
 he made use of less sweeping expressions. Even the 
 performance of the special division, composed of the 
 older non-commissioned officers, on which Schill had 
 placed great hopes, did not please the Colonel, although 
 the mounts which had been given to the division in 
 November, from the China Expedition, had become really 
 well-trained horses. All the thanks that Schill got for 
 his winter's trouble was an almost insulting criticism, 
 and he was not quite sure whether he would not lodge 
 a complaint against Baer. 
 
 For the first time Koehler saw his friend, who usually 
 bore all the annoyances and discomforts of the Service 
 with stoic indifference, really depressed. 
 
 " How I envy a stone-breaker ! " sighed Schill, on the 
 way back to his lodgings after the review, accompanied 
 by Koehler. " He pockets his wages at night, and 
 knows what he has done, whilst we worry ourselves to 
 death all the year round only to receive a few oaths in 
 the way of thanks at the end of it. There is never the 
 slightest attempt on the part of our superiors to try and 
 find out any cause for praise. I am sick of it all ! " 
 
 " I am very sorry for you, my dear Schill," said 
 Koehler. " Now if I had had such bad luck, I should 
 not have been surprised, for I have not troubled myself 
 much about my division, as Baer takes away all pleasure 
 in one's work. Rickert had all the trouble and I got all 
 the praise. 'Tis more than ludicrous." 
 
 Koehler went up to Schill's rooms with him without 
 any invitation. It seemed to him the natural thing to 
 
 132 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 do, not to leave his friend alone in such a mood, but to 
 remain with him until he had relieved his feelings by- 
 talking it all over with a congenial spirit. 
 
 Schill had been very depressed of late, although he 
 would not acknowledge it, trying to conceal it by 
 assuming a false gaiety over his work. But Koehler 
 noticed it all the same. It was almost as though this 
 man, who was usually of so equable a temperament, had 
 suddenly lost all his habitual equilibrium in a severe 
 mental struggle, the result of which was still uncertain. 
 To-day, especially, his friend seemed quite different. The 
 disappointment he had suffered, which, after all, was 
 nothing in comparison to some of his former experiences, 
 seemed to have shaken him in his inmost soul, and to 
 have been the culminating point of a growing sense of 
 anger which was ready to burst into flames at any 
 moment. On entering the room Koehler was startled 
 at the furious way in which Schill first hurled his sword 
 into the corner, and then, striding across to his writing- 
 table, proceeded to tear up the manuscripts lying there 
 and fling them into the wastepaper-basket. 
 
 "What are you doing that for.?" asked Koehler 
 amazed. 
 
 " What am I doing it for 1 Because I mean to chuck 
 the whole job ! " 
 
 " Chuck it all ! What do you mean } " 
 
 " Nothing more than that I intend to send in my 
 papers." 
 
 The words he tried to say stuck in Koehler's throat. 
 
 " Yes, yes, old man ; I mean it seriously ! " laughed 
 Schill bitterly, noticing Koehler's amazement. " I 
 
 133 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 have thoroughly considered the matter, and come to 
 the conclusion that I've had just about enough of it, and 
 as I don't believe I am so absolutely useless yet, I mean 
 to prove my right to existence elsewhere." 
 
 " But, in heaven's name, what are you going to do ? " 
 " I am not quite sure myself ; perhaps they will give 
 me some civil post when I send in my resignation .... 
 at all events, I shall try my best to get something of the 
 kind to do, so that I may not be quite useless to the 
 State." 
 
 " Do you mean it seriously 1 " asked Koehler, who 
 still looked on this as the outcome of a sudden burst 
 of anger, rather than the result of serious consideration 
 on Schill's part. 
 
 " In bitter earnest ! " answered Schill with a sigh, 
 dropping wearily into his writing-chair. 
 
 Koehler was silent. The sudden prospect of losing 
 the one true friend he possessed was a great blow to 
 him, and he was quite overcome with sorrow. 
 
 Although he had known for some time that Schill's 
 greatest desire in life was to occupy some position which 
 would satisfy his love of work, and supply a fruitful field 
 for his talents, he did not imagine the moment of parting 
 to be so near. He knew as well as Schill the many 
 difficulties which lay in the way of an officer who wished 
 to enter upon a civilian career. Only those who had 
 influential friends, or were possessed of considerable 
 means, could venture to take the step of starting a new 
 life, the conditions and requirements of which were not 
 only quite different, but almost impossible to fulfil without 
 a special education. And Koehler knew that his comrade 
 
 134 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 possessed neither means, nor influential friends nor 
 relations ; but stood quite alone in the world. How 
 then could he reckon for certain on obtaining some civil 
 post ? Surely he was too sensible for that ? Could not 
 the men be counted by legions who starved whilst 
 waiting for long-expected berths, who, moreover, might 
 wait till eternity, unless they got a place in Heaven first ? 
 
 " Won't you reconsider your decision ? " said Koehler 
 anxiously. 
 
 " No, no, dear fellow," answered Schill sadly. " As 
 far as my resignation is concerned, I have done with 
 thinking it over, and as yet I have had no time to 
 consider the future." 
 
 " But, according to my ideas, that should be the 
 first question to be considered, dear Schill," observed 
 Koehler. 
 
 " Certainly, at least in so far as it is doubtful whether 
 a lieutenant who has once resigned will ever get any 
 other work. The practical knowledge which he acquires 
 does not fit him for any other profession, and the little 
 that might have fitted him for something else, has been 
 forgotten. He has forgotten, for one thing, how to get 
 on with those who earn their own bread with their heads 
 or their hands. These know the struggle for existence 
 in all its varied nuances^ and what they have gained is 
 the result of years of hard toil. The world, on the con- 
 trary, endows us with *pomp and circumstance,' and 
 with that halo of glory, unattainable to the other classes, 
 and expects us to treasure its fair gifts. We only know the 
 lighter aspects of the fight for life : the struggle against 
 boredom. The result is that two spheres have been 
 
 135 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 created, in which the principles, conditions, views, and 
 means to the end, are so totally antagonistic, that they 
 separate people as effectually as though they belonged 
 to different races, one of which is only there to contrast 
 with the other, and to provide it with working material. 
 All mental and social intercourse has been stifled, by 
 a sense of inferiority on the one side, and arrogance on 
 the other. 
 
 " Then, all at once, a man who has cast off the gay 
 attire of his world, wants to go over to the other camp, 
 because the old position no longer satisfies him, or 
 because men have cast him off as an ' undesirable ' or a 
 * marked ' man. He is received by the other side with 
 mistrust, all doors are closed against him, unless he 
 happens to have influence. He is refused even bread, 
 after being used to eating cake ; no one gives him credit 
 for any knowledge beyond what was necessary in his 
 former career, upon which we set such store ; his views 
 are laughed at, and his principles meet with nothing but 
 disapproval. And even when he has stood the test 
 necessary for his new life, and suffered hunger, sorrow, 
 and disappointment, he is only received with hesitation. 
 Yet the old tradition leaves him an aristocrat to the end 
 of his days, while its heights still remain unattainable. 
 That is the equivalent of ' sending in your papers,' as the 
 lieutenants say." 
 
 " You put it well, Schill," said Koehler thoughtfully. 
 "You are quite right, too. Only I have never seen 
 things in that light before." 
 
 " You see," continued Schill, " in spite of all this, I 
 have dared to go over to the other camp. It will not be 
 
 136 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 easy, dear Koehler ; you can be sure of that ! But at 
 all events, it will be easier for me now than it would have 
 been ten years ago, for at that time I said with my friend 
 Byron : — 
 
 * I become 
 Portion of that around me ; and to me 
 High mountains are a feeling,' 
 
 And I consoled myself for all the things I found hard to 
 bear with the thought that I was a lieutenant, and must 
 put up with them. Had I been obliged to discard my 
 uniform in those days it would have gone against the 
 grain, but now I see things differently. In time one's 
 heart and head learn to go different ways. The love 
 which I had in my heart for my profession has been torn 
 out bit by bit, and there is no longer any necessity for 
 my head to pay any attention to the dictates of my 
 heart ; and my head bids me : 'Go and take up your 
 life afresh elsewhere, for you are useless here, and 
 wasting your time.' Therefore I have made up my 
 mind to go." 
 
 Schill said the last words in a voice choked with 
 tears. He was silent for awhile, then, looking across at 
 Koehler, began afresh : — 
 
 " I may tell you, Koehler, that my decision is not 
 the result of a desire for change, or of a fit of temper." 
 
 " All the same, I fear that you will regret this step 
 some day." 
 
 " Regret it } Never ! " answered Schill decisively. 
 
 *' But you will long to put on your uniform again, if I 
 know anything about you." 
 
 " Perhaps ; but only in one case — if there was a war." 
 137 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 " Well," replied Koehler, shrugging his shoulders, 
 " there isn't much hope of that ; but in my opinion it is 
 rash to be too positive about it, one way or the other." 
 
 "You must remember, my friend, that nowadays a 
 war does not spring up on the spur of the moment as 
 in days gone by. It is true that the anxiety to 
 maintain the balance of power in Europe is the best 
 evidence of the predatory instinct in all of us. The 
 weakest countries have most to fear from its disturb- 
 ance. But what is a war in these days } The height 
 of our present day culture is such that one hardly 
 dares to think of the social upheaval which such an 
 event would cause, or of its far-reaching effects. We 
 are taught by history that a war is followed by a 
 period of stagnation, if not of actual retrogression 
 for both parties engaged, even for the conquerors. 
 Nations, and those who hold themselves responsible for 
 them, tremble at the thought of such an event. That is 
 why the rulers draw nearer to each other every year in 
 personal contact ; whereby they strengthen international 
 relationships even if they do not unite their people's 
 sympathies with those of other countries. Added to 
 all this, there is the great idea of humanitarianism, which, 
 although not a decisive factor in the maintenance of 
 peace, is in reality one of its chief causes. Finally, with 
 what nation should we want to go to war 1 At the most 
 we should sometimes like to show our teeth to our 
 English cousins, when we see how they trade on the good 
 nature and enforced reserve of their German neighbours. 
 But to go to war with them, by God, no ! A war on 
 land with England would be highly unchivalrous on our 
 
 138 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 part, for they could not raise a worthy opponent for a 
 single German army corps out of the ruins of their 
 army. The possibility of a naval encounter does not 
 enter seriously into the question, for such an event would 
 not engage the entire sympathies of the nation in the 
 same way as a war on land. Interest in the navy, in 
 spite of all the plans for the fleet and naval manoeuvres, 
 does not enter into the German nature. He is a soldier 
 par excellence, not a sea-dog, simply because the 
 geographical conditions of his country are such that he 
 has practically nothing to do with the sea. Should the 
 question of a naval war ever seriously arise, the chances 
 would be the same for each side, despite Albion's brag- 
 ging about her navy. Both parties would reconsider it 
 thoroughly and pocket their pride, as they do not really 
 want to go to war. 
 
 "Now let us consider our hereditary enemy from 
 the west. No reasonable person believes any longer 
 in the fable of the hereditary German enemy. At 
 any rate, it would be a strong proof of our want of 
 national pride and lack of faith in ourselves if we were 
 to be afraid of being blown up by a bomb thrown by the 
 decadent Third Republic. France has become to-day a 
 harmless neighbour, whose scandals amuse us, and whom 
 we have to thank for the latest ladies' fashions. The 
 only thing we resent about her is that she overwhelms 
 us with the degenerate productions of her play-manu- 
 factories. And our grim eastern neighbour .? He has 
 first to recover from his Japanese thrashing, and I don't 
 quite see what is suddenly going to make us go to war 
 with him, for in the whole history of the world no 
 
 139 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 German cock has ever crowed across to Russia, and no 
 Russian eagle has ever stretched out its claws towards 
 Germany. We have too few interests in common to 
 engage in warfare, and the few we have are arranged by 
 diplomacy to the mutual satisfaction of both countries. 
 Those are my views on war, dear Koehler, and now you 
 will understand why it is that the whole theory of war 
 seems nothing but a farce to me." 
 
 "But the other aim of the army — to guard the 
 internal security of the country — is no illusion," broke in 
 Koehler. 
 
 " From my point of view it is just as great an illusion 
 as the other. From what side is an attack on the 
 foundations of the empire likely to come ? From social 
 democracy } No ; however much that spreads, it will 
 never dare to lay a finger on the foundations of a 
 monarchy. It is not strong enough for that, and never 
 will be, for it is not the number of the party that denotes 
 its strength, but its unity. And a party, the majority of 
 whose members ignore the original ideas on which it 
 was founded, or have only followed the red flag out of a 
 desire to give vent to their feelings of opposition, will 
 only run its head against the stone wall of monarchy. 
 A monarchy is the most natural form of government for 
 all mankind, especially for Germans, -who have never 
 known any other. And when, as in Germany, such rule 
 is constitutional, and hits the happy medium between 
 the anarchist tendencies of a republic and the despotism 
 of an absolute monarchy, it gives equal chances of 
 development to all parties. A single party striving 
 against the monarchy will never become a ruling factor, 
 
 140 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 therefore we need no army to keep down the disturbing 
 element — only a guard in case of emergencies." 
 
 " I should not like to give my opinion on the subject," 
 said Koehler thoughtfully. " My feelings are the same 
 as yours, but I do not know enough about politics to 
 discuss the matter." 
 
 "We are not supposed to trouble ourselves about 
 politics," answered Schill, trying to smile. " But with 
 regard to the questions we have just been discussing, we 
 must have some opinion, unless we have gone about the 
 world with our eyes shut, and I really cannot see why 
 an officer, from whom the greatest interest in his nation 
 is expected, should know nothing about pohtics. It is 
 not necessary for him to side with a party, which, of 
 course, should not exist for him. But just ask any 
 officer you happen to meet if he knows what parties 
 exist in the country and what their tendencies are ; at 
 least half of them will be completely ignorant of the 
 subject. Surely that is a pitiful condition of things, 
 when the chief props of a nation know nothing whatever 
 of its political affairs." 
 
 " You would think so ! " said Koehler laughing ; '' but 
 I must confess that I myself am one of these ' pitiable 
 props.' " 
 
 " One cannot blame you, any more than the others. 
 The system is to blame, which hinders, rather than 
 encourages, any mental activity on the part of officers, 
 and is quite satisfied if a lieutenant passes the usual 
 examinations, without troubling to ascertain if he has 
 any further intellectual ambitions. It only expects a 
 man to acquire the necessary amount of prestige on all 
 
 141 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 occasions — a thing which can be picked up even by the 
 most brilliant specimen of stupidity. But as for prestige, 
 * the devil take the damned thing ! ' say I with all my 
 heart. What's the good of prestige when there is only 
 an empty head or a bundle of swagger behind it. In 
 1 870 we had prestige, because we had good cause to be 
 proud of ourselves ; to-day most of us have no claim to it 
 but swagger. But after all, we officers are not so much to 
 blame if we enhance our rank by a full dose of prestige, 
 when we consider how, in all classes, the element of 
 external show (which is a symptom of decadence) has 
 become so prevalent. It is the same with morals, which 
 have, in all times, suffered from the progressive culture 
 of a nation. Culture brings us very near truth, which is 
 the greatest enemy of all religion, alias morals. 
 
 " Good and bad approach each other in the conception : 
 means to an end. We are in the same position to-day 
 that the Romans were in at the height of their pros- 
 perity, and, if we continue as they did, our fate is already 
 written in the history of the world. It will be the same 
 thing over again, but with different scenery and effects. 
 And what shall we say of the means to the end, espe- 
 cially in our own case } I am sorry to say we must 
 often shake our heads over the means, and put a note 
 of interrogation after the end." 
 
 Koehler did not answer at once. His friend's views, 
 which he had expressed in such an abrupt and unvar- 
 nished manner, were quite new to him. Meanwhile he 
 was ashamed of confessing this to his comrade, and 
 found himself therefore in the position of a man to whom 
 has been attributed more strength of judgment than he 
 
 142 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 actually possesses. Finally, he said hesitatingly to 
 Schill : 
 
 " I should lie if I were to tell you that your view of 
 these different questions is quite clear to me. Perhaps 
 that is because I have never thought seriously of these 
 things." 
 
 Schill laughed slyly. 
 
 " Well, my friend," he said, " 'tis the same with most 
 of us. The majority of our officers take too careless — 
 or, I might say, superficial — a view of their position. 
 That which is not actually forced on us by circumstances 
 does not enter into our consciousness ; and to learn the 
 tardy lessons taught us by extraordinary events, we 
 must be specially adapted — either half-sceptics or half- 
 hypochondriacs — else the whole thing will escape us, 
 like a story without a point. The more glamour clings 
 about a thing the heavier are its shadows. So it is with 
 the position of an officer." 
 
 " Well," answered Koehler, " this much I do know : 
 that in time I shall realise the justice of your opinions, 
 even though at present they seem a confused tangle of 
 ideas." 
 
 " I only hope that your realisation will not eventually 
 lead you where it has led me. You see yourself, I am 
 beginning life over again." 
 
 " But do tell me, for heaven's sake — surely you have 
 some plan in your head ? " 
 
 " Only in a general way. But of this I am certain : 
 I shall not go to America to black shoes. There are 
 plenty of our comrades who have done this or similar 
 things. What astonishes me in them is the entire lack 
 
 143 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 of pride in their Fatherland. Otherwise they would 
 not give everyone ocular demonstration of our ill-treat- 
 ment of men who formerly filled honourable positions, 
 and were entrusted with affairs of the highest importance, 
 degrading them to the level of pickpockets and loafers 
 through some small slip on their part. The wrongs of 
 innumerable retired lieutenants have already become a 
 social problem, which we shall be forced to consider more 
 closely because it is a disgrace to our nation. For my 
 part, I cannot claim to have anything done for me, as 
 I leave the Army of my own free will and have neither 
 been driven, nor bullied, out of it." 
 
 Schill's proud resignation and self-confidence made a 
 deep impression on Koehler. He was filled with admi- 
 ration for this man, who had taken upon himself to start 
 a new life with his old mother, who was entirely dependent 
 upon him, in order to satisfy the ambitions which had no 
 scope in his present existence. His mental activity had 
 never come to a standstill, therefore, in his case, the gulf 
 between the old life and the new one upon which he was 
 entering was in some sort bridged over. Koehler felt 
 small and commonplace beside his friend, whose mental 
 superiority almost put to shame his own weakness. But, 
 at present, all other feelings were overwhelmed by the 
 sorrow of losing Schill. 
 
 " I wish we had never been friends," he said to Schill, 
 as he was preparing to go ; " then I should not be so 
 miserable at the thought of losing you." 
 
 "Friends we shall always remain, dear Koehler," 
 answered Schill earnestly, " even though we must part." 
 He shook hands with Koehler, and the latter went back 
 
 144 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 to the barracks feeling as though he had buried his best 
 friend. 
 
 Colonel von Held could not believe his eyes when 
 one morning he found Schill's resignation laid on his 
 writing-table. He read the document through many- 
 times, one part in particular causing him considerable 
 annoyance, for he thought he could detect something in 
 the nature of an accusation in the lines, which ran as 
 follows : — 
 
 " I no longer find that complete satisfaction in my 
 profession, which is necessary for those who are to devote 
 themselves entirely to the King's service, and in spite of 
 having rigorously performed my duty, to the best of my 
 abilities, I have never been able to win the recognition 
 of my superior officers." 
 
 Von Held thought of the last review. It struck him 
 now that perhaps he had been a little too severe in his 
 criticism of Schill's men. 
 
 At all events, it seemed to have been the direct 
 cause of the latter's decision to resign. At the same 
 time, thought he, the lieutenant must have had the idea 
 in his head beforehand, for Held did not imagine for a 
 moment that the man whom he had always looked upon 
 as apathetic and deliberate would act on the impulse of 
 the moment without some deeper reasons for doing so. 
 But it was not the fact of his behaviour towards Schill 
 having hindered the latter's career that troubled Held — 
 such considerations did not enter into his egotistical and 
 hard nature ; it was rather the thought of what the 
 General would say when he heard of the voluntary resig- 
 
 145 L 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 nation of an officer who had served so many years. 
 There would certainly be inquiries which would be 
 difficult to answer, and, what was worse, he might 
 request a personal interview with Schill. The result of such 
 an interview might be very uncomfortable for the Colonel, 
 so he decided to try to make Schill alter his decision, 
 and, as he wished to conceal any trace of personal 
 motives in his action, he sat down at once and endorsed 
 his papers as follows : " Sir, I have to inform you 
 that your resignation papers cannot be handed over to 
 the authorities in their present form, which does not 
 comply with the existing regulations. They can be sent 
 in to me again when they have been made to conform 
 with these same rules, which require essentially that 
 other reasons, besides purely personal ones, should be 
 given for a resignation, and, without these, the proceed- 
 ings can go no further." 
 
 He had not long to wait for Schill's answer. A fresh 
 copy of the document, which had been rendered use- 
 less by H eld's endorsement, arrived immediately, with 
 the following reply: "I beg to inform the regimental 
 authorities that I am unable to put my reasons for 
 wishing to resign in any other form." 
 
 Von Held was furious. The slightest contradiction 
 annoyed him exceedingly, and Schill's cool answer made 
 him mad with rage. He became more and more conscious 
 of the dangerous position he was in, and was extremely 
 uncomfortable in his mind. He was aware, too, that 
 Schill knew as well as he himself did, that his objection 
 to the form of the lieutenant's resignation could not 
 hold good, because the rule he had quoted did not really 
 
 146 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 exist. There was nothing left but to try and ingratiate 
 himself with Schill, so he sent for him, then and there. 
 
 Von Held received Schill with unusual affability. 
 Although he was secretly aggravated at the latter's 
 composed bearing, and would have liked to box his ears, 
 he was too clever a diplomatist to show it, so put a good 
 face on the matter and began : 
 
 " Your desire to resign has come to my knowledge. I 
 take it for granted that your decision is the result of 
 careful consideration." 
 
 " Yes, sir," answered Schill firmly. 
 
 " Good," continued Held. " Then it is not my 
 business to hinder your decision. Your candour does 
 you credit, sir, and I have the greatest respect for a 
 man who strives to preserve his individuality under all 
 circumstances. There is, however, one remark I should 
 like to make — that with regard to your qualifications as 
 an officer, I have always been perfectly satisfied with 
 you, my dear fellow, and so has Riding-Master Baer." 
 
 " Excuse me, sir," answered Schill, " I have always 
 been led to believe exactly the opposite from your 
 remarks." 
 
 " But, my dear fellow," cried Held jovially, " you 
 mustn't look upon every little grumble as a condemnation 
 of all your services . . . . It is a fact that I shall be very 
 sorry indeed to lose you, for you have always been a 
 good and thorough subordinate." 
 
 Schill was silent, looking at him questioningly in the 
 meantime. 
 
 " H'm," continued the latter, who was nervously 
 fidgeting with his sword-hilt, " then there is the manner 
 
 147 L 2 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 in which your resignation is drawn up, which I do not 
 think advisable . . . .* Of course, I speak entirely in 
 your interests, dear Schill." 
 
 " I must tell you, sir, with all due respect to your 
 opinion, that I do not intend to alter anything I have 
 written." 
 
 " But do listen to me first, my dear Schill ! " Held 
 interrupted, half amicably, half impatiently. " What I 
 say is, that your reasons for sending in your papers are 
 of very little interest to the authorities. All they require 
 to know is the bare fact that First- Lieutenant Schill, of 
 the Dragoons, begs leave to resign, etc., etc." 
 
 " But I feel that a precise explanation of my reasons 
 for leaving the army is due to his Majesty." 
 
 " His Majesty .? " Colonel von Held smiled know- 
 ingly. " Well, yes, all that sounds very nice, but do 
 you really suppose that our Sovereign will ever hear or 
 read a word of your resignation } Never, dear Schill, 
 although it says : ' His Majesty has been pleased to 
 attend to,' etc., etc., but it is impossible for him to see 
 to all these things personally. Your case is one for the 
 Minister of War." 
 
 " I am not responsible for all that, sir." 
 
 " No, no, of course not. But I wanted to tell you 
 that it is absolutely immaterial on what grounds you wish 
 to resign, and it must be of importance to you to get 
 some small pecuniary advantage out of it, besides your 
 nominal pension as lieutenant." 
 
 " That was not my intention, sir." 
 
 " Well, how would it be .... I mean, couldn't you 
 plead some slight bodily disablement } " 
 
 148 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Well, well," laughed Held nervously. " When one 
 has served as long as you have, one has a right to some- 
 thing extra, which would do to pay one's rent afterwards, 
 anyway. Of course, this is all in your own interests, dear 
 Schill ; you understand that ! " 
 
 " I could not do such a thing with a clear conscience, 
 sir." 
 
 " Good heavens, what's the good of a clear conscience 
 in these days ! We cannot afford to be too particular ; 
 others are not ! When we have served over ten years 
 we have, to a certain extent, a right to a special reward." 
 
 " I have asked that of His Majesty in the form of a 
 civil post." 
 
 " Nothing besides that, my dear fellow } " cried Held, 
 endeavouring to control his growing impatience. " Don't 
 be a fool, but take all you can get ! For instance, you 
 can say you have varicose veins, an unsound lung, or 
 even cholera itself if you like ; the doctor writes a 
 certificate, I witness it, and with a stroke of the pen you 
 get £^o a year more. That is not to be despised." 
 
 Schill considered for a moment, whilst Held looked 
 at him impatiently in a state of nervous expectation. 
 
 " No, sir," said Schill at last, firmly and seriously, " I 
 prefer to send in my resignation in its original form." 
 
 He stared at him amazed. He realised that there 
 was nothing to be done with such a stubborn fool. 
 What was he to do } Should he beg him to alter his 
 mind } No, he could not bring himself to that. He 
 had never asked anyone a favour, and would not do so 
 now ; besides, it would be showing his weak spot. He 
 
 149 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 turned away slowly, with his back towards Schill, and 
 said almost rudely : 
 
 " As you will, but do not complain later of want of 
 generosity on the part of the authorities. I have always 
 wished you well. Thank you." 
 
 Schill saluted, and went. 
 
 ♦ * * * « 
 
 The news that the senior first-lieutenant of the regi- 
 ment had sent in his papers, when his promotion to the 
 rank of Riding-Master was imminent, provoked general 
 surprise. Above all, the fact that Schill was leaving the 
 service from his " convictions " caused much comment, 
 for a similar case had never been known. 
 
 " Can't understand it," said Gallwitz at mess one day. 
 " Surely it's a grand thing to be a dragoon ! Chap says 
 he's leaving because of his convictions ! What are 
 convictions .? Must be mad as a hatter." The other 
 young officers expressed themselves in a similar and 
 characteristic vein, at mess, where Schill no longer 
 appeared, having obtained leave till his resignation was 
 formally accepted. " From his convictions ; 'tis a 
 solemn fact ! " became a regular saying among them. 
 Schill had been right when he said that the majority 
 of officers were so taken up with exterior details and 
 superficial fads, that it seemed to them sheer madness 
 for a man to look behind the scenes and let his pleasure 
 be spoiled by the disillusionments he was certain to 
 experience in consequence. According to general opinion 
 such a man was either a neurotic, or posed as a weeping 
 philosopher. 
 
 Some of the elder men thought it over in silence, not 
 150 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 venturing an opinion on Schill's decision. Probably 
 they sympathised with him in some things — but of course 
 no one understood him Hke Koehler. Major Preusse 
 pressed his hand silently, and whispered as though he 
 was saying something forbidden : 
 
 " I tell you what, Schill, 'tis the same old story of 
 the skin which does not fit. A young fellow like you 
 can slip out of it when it gets too tight, but for an old 
 chap like myself it is impossible ; it has grown to my flesh, 
 and I must stay in it, even when it nips so hard that one 
 would like to cry out." 
 
 Among the recruits also were some whose former 
 enthusiasm for a soldier's life had given place 
 to very different sentiments. The fascination and 
 glamour which surrounded a soldier's life and stirred 
 the enthusiasm of lads and young men, concealing its 
 darker side, had gradually faded. Everything had 
 turned to dull routine, even the very things which 
 formerly appeared so attractive. Everyday life, with its 
 troubles and annoyances, was just the same in the army 
 as anywhere else, only the clothes differed. Those 
 clothes, the very sight of which was once enough to 
 make our hearts beat quicker ; the delight in which 
 custom stales, until at last they resemble a rigid coat of 
 mail, which restricts us bodily and mentally, forcing 
 even the emotional life into a narrow groove, and 
 crushing individuality under the yoke of discipline. 
 
 The dragoons, Ernst Grube and George Weidner, 
 belonged to that class who were only soldiers because 
 they were obliged to be. With all their hearts they 
 
 151 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 yearned for freedom, for the sense of restriction had long 
 since become irksome to them. 
 
 Neither of them had an easy position in the squadron, 
 still less in troop No. i. Since Sergeant Gross had 
 taken his civilian clothes from the cupboard and said 
 good-bye to them, crying bitterly the while, a different 
 spirit pervaded the troop. Gross had been punished 
 by Baer with three days' arrest for having forgotten to 
 wear his China medal when in full dress uniform, and 
 had resigned rather than be disgraced before his men. A 
 man called Vogt filled his place and was hated by the 
 entire squadron ; for instead of ruling like Gross, by 
 kindness and a good example, he did so by brutality 
 and insults, besides knowing next to nothing about his 
 work. 
 
 But Baer had put Troop No. i in his charge, as, 
 according to the Riding-Master, it was composed "entirely 
 of criminals." As a matter of fact, there was scarcely an 
 unpunished member in the whole troop. Baron von 
 Scharf figured prominently amongst the offenders, for he 
 had been fished out of a doubtful locality in Berlin and 
 punished by a month's imprisonment ; then came Grube 
 with fourteen days' arrest ; then Weidner with eight ; 
 finally a number of others, with the customary three 
 days which Baer had given since the New Year for every 
 small offence. None of them being able to look down 
 on the others, they all hung together ; consequently they 
 endured all the more at the hands of Gross's successor, 
 whose daily abuse and ill-treatment exacerbated them to 
 the last degree. When he was in a good temper he 
 would send a recruit on an errand to the canteen, for- 
 
 152 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 getting to give him the necessary money, and should the 
 unfortunate man venture to remind him of his debt he 
 would look at him threateningly, as much as to say, 
 " Cheeky brute, you should be pleased at the mere fact 
 of doing something for me ! " 
 
 But Vogt's ill-humours generally predominated, for 
 Baer was always worrying him, in his turn. Every bit 
 of abuse he received from the Riding-Master he passed on 
 to his men without fail, and showed great talent in 
 inventing new tortures for his wretched subordinates. If, 
 on coming back to the barracks drunk at midnight, he 
 saw the slightest speck of dust anywhere in the room, he 
 would turn the whole troop out of bed to sweep it up ; 
 whilst he himself stood on a chair urging them on with 
 a whip. The room orderly who had once forgotten to fill 
 a water-jug right up to the brim, had the contents of the 
 same poured over him, and was made to go backwards 
 and forwards from the pump in the courtyard with a glass 
 to refill it, besides being knocked about into the bargain. 
 If any man showed the slightest objection to Vogt's 
 treatment, even by the expression of his face, he would 
 be made to stand in some painful posture till he fell 
 down. The " aristocratic hound " had to bear an extra 
 amount of " ragging," and on the Baron's being repri- 
 manded by Baer for having dirty hands, Vogt com- 
 manded him to undress that evening and stand in a foot- 
 bath, whereupon he turned the whole troop on to scour 
 him with their scrubbing-brushes till they drew " the 
 pig's blue blood." Finally he seized a brush himself and 
 ill-treated the poor wretch with it. 
 
 Sergeant Vogt did not know what a dangerous game 
 153 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 he was playing. His brutality filled the men with grow- 
 ing hatred, and bound them still closer together, so that 
 finally the troop was against him to a man. No complaint 
 had been made as yet, for all feared the Riding-Master's 
 anger ; meanwhile, things were working up to a head. 
 
 About this time the troop was employed one evening, 
 long after the bugle-call had sounded for bed, in prepar- 
 ing for a big field-day. As soon as they had finished 
 one thing, Vogt would come along and tell them to do it 
 over again, and would souse their sword-belts in the 
 water on detecting the smallest spot left untouched by 
 the pipeclay. Other things he would make dirty on 
 purpose, making good use of his fists all the while. 
 When at last he left the room, at eleven o'clock, the men 
 went to bed, with the prospect of being awoke at three 
 the next morning. 
 
 That night they were all in a state of fierce in- 
 dignation, and some said they were determined to 
 complain the next day. The Baron went on sobbing 
 long after the lamps were turned out, and Grube was 
 trying in vain to control his rage at the way in which 
 Vogt had bullied him all the evening about his former 
 offence. Riding-Master Baer did it often enough, and 
 never failed to refer to him, when drilling, as ''that 
 fellow who was had up for assault." Grube had to 
 exercise great self-control not to answer back, but it was 
 too much of a good thing to have this thrown in his 
 teeth at every opportunity by Vogt, who, without 
 provocation, assaulted them all in turn daily. 
 
 Shortly after twelve o'clock Vogt returned in his 
 usual drunken state. 
 
 154 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 " Now then, you lazy blackguards, snoring already ! " 
 he shouted in a loud voice, which woke them all up, 
 and, striking a match, he at once caught sight of some of 
 the remains of the cleaning materials on the floor, which 
 the men had forgotten to sweep up. 
 
 He then staggered over to the slate, hanging on the 
 wall, to see who was the orderly for the day, and, on read- 
 ing Grube's name, strode across the room and, grasping 
 him by the feet, pulled him out of bed so that his body 
 fell with a dull thud to the floor. 
 
 " Sweep that up, you pig ! " roared Vogt. 
 
 "Grube obeyed, fearing the worst from Vogt's 
 drunkenness, if he did not at once comply. He brushed 
 up the heap of dirt, Vogt meanwhile standing over him 
 with the candle ; but on his preparing to get up from the 
 floor, Vogt shouted — 
 
 " Carry it all away in your snout ! " 
 
 Grube made another effort to rise. 
 
 " Do you hear me, you beast of the dung-heap 1 " 
 howled Vogt furiously, and seizing Grube by the scruff 
 of the neck, he pressed his face down into the heap of 
 dirt. 
 
 The other men watched the scene from their beds in 
 breathless suspense. Suddenly Weidner and the Baron 
 sprang up simultaneously, and rushing at Vogt, the 
 latter threw him on the ground, whilst Weidner seized 
 a belt and hit blindly at him with it as he lay there. 
 The next moment Grube rushed up, with the sheath of a 
 sword in his hand, and struck him a blow on the head 
 which rendered him unconscious. 
 
 By this time all the men were out of bed, and now 
 155 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 stood speechless round the sergeant, down whose fore- 
 head a little trickle of blood was flowing. But no one 
 moved or made any attempt to lift him up ; they all 
 stood there, looking first at Grube, then at his victim. 
 The door opened, and the non-commissioned officer on 
 duty entered. He had heard the noise in his room, and 
 thought it meant one of those favourite " visitations " to 
 the troop, during which, acting on a kind of lynch law, 
 a masked figure executed rough justice on an unpopular 
 character, laying on the prescribed number of blows with 
 a strap or a stick, according to the severity of the 
 sentence. 
 
 He could hardly believe his eyes when he saw Vogt, 
 surrounded by the men, lying as though dead on the 
 floor. Drawing nearer, he observed the wound on his 
 head. 
 
 " Who has done this .? " he asked, looking round. 
 
 " I, sir ! " answered Grube. 
 
 The "non-com." looked him up and down, with an 
 almost pleased smile, saying : 
 
 " Well, you're a smart chap ! This will be a pretty 
 mess ! " 
 
 Then he left the room, still with the same smile, to 
 return a moment later accompanied by the sergeant. 
 
 "What's all this damned tomfoolery about .^ But, 
 good Lord, he has caught it ! " growled the sergeant 
 through his moustache, on catching sight of Vogt and 
 Grube, who was now the only man left standing by 
 him. But even the sergeant said nothing further, only 
 ordering the non-commissioned officer on duty to see 
 that no one left the room. He then went away himself. 
 
 156 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 An hour later Baer rushed breathlessly into the 
 room, white as a sheet, shaking with agitation, one hand 
 nervously clutching the hilt of his sword, as though he 
 were entering a robber's den. At this moment Vogt 
 recovered consciousness, gazed round in a bewildered 
 way, as though just awakening out of a dream, and 
 struggled to his feet on seeing Baer. 
 
 The Riding-Master sent the wounded sergeant at once 
 to the hospital. Then he went into the matter with the 
 men themselves, and afterwards held a whispered con- 
 versation with the sergeant in the doorway. When the 
 latter returned without Baer, he commanded the men 
 not to say a word about the affair to anyone, the non- 
 commissioned officer on duty receiving the same order. 
 Grube was sentenced to three days' arrest, the reason 
 given in the punishment-book being : for insubordination 
 to the sergeant of his troop. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 What Colonel von Held was afraid might happen 
 actually had happened. A few days after Schill sent 
 in his papers to the General, His Excellency him- 
 self appeared one morning, quite unexpectedly, at the 
 barracks, and mixing quietly with the squadron, which 
 was just starting for a sham fight, discovered that 
 the Colonel did not superintend their movements in 
 person, but simply sent sealed orders with regard to 
 them, thus gaining an extra hour over his breakfast- 
 table. The General then mounted one of the squadron 
 chargers, and trotting quickly away, arrived at the top of 
 a hill which afforded a good view of the field of action. 
 Here he came to a halt amongst some elm-trees. He 
 
 157 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 was awaiting Lieutenant Schill, who, as soon as he 
 received the General's command, had hurried off to get 
 some riding-breeches out of his bag, which he had 
 already packed, and to borrow a horse from the barracks. 
 An hour later he arrived on his foam-covered charger, 
 and was greeted with special kindness by His Excellency. 
 
 The conversation, which lasted some time, was carried 
 on, as they sat onithe turf, without any official constraint ; 
 at the conclusion of the interview, the General shook 
 Schill warmly by the hand as they parted. Schill rode 
 back to the barracks in a contented frame of mind, 
 drinking in the balmy air of May to its full extent. It 
 was his last ride upon a regimental mount. 
 
 Suddenly, at a bend in the road, he came upon a 
 rider, whom he recognised at once as the Colonel. 
 
 " Where is he 1 " gasped Held, pulling up his horse. 
 
 " Over there ! " said Schill, pointing with his thumb 
 over his shoulder. 
 
 Von Held dug in his spurs, and went off again full 
 gallop. When at last he found the General, he was too 
 breathless to stammer out a word of greeting. This 
 interview also lasted some time, but the orderly was 
 puzzled to know why the Colonel remained with his 
 hand at the salute for fully thirty minutes without the 
 General asking him to take it down. Finally, the latter 
 galloped away at a pace with which Held's twelve-year- 
 old and worn-out chestnut could hardly compete. 
 
 The General waited to watch the field-drill, greeting 
 the Major with the words — "Good morning, dear 
 Preusse!" A few minutes later he rode off to the 
 nearest station. 
 
 IS8 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 Towards the end of May, Schill's farewell dinner took 
 place, for his resignation had been accepted by the 
 authorities, " in consideration of the fact that First Lieu- 
 tenant Schill has in view a post in the Civil Service of 
 His Majesty, the King of Prussia." 
 
 When he found himself sitting for the last time in 
 the circle of his comrades, it was all he could do to 
 suppress the rising tears, especially when Preusse, who 
 took the place of the Colonel, then on leave, spoke the 
 farewell words and handed him a silver goblet as a 
 parting gift. 
 
 On leaving the mess towards midnight, Schill broke 
 a leaf off the oak-wreath surrounding the Emperor's 
 picture and put it carefully away in his pocket-book. 
 
 159 
 
Chapter VI. 
 
 THE newly-married couple were entertaining 
 for the first time. 
 The furnishing of the villa which they 
 had rented on the outskirts of the town, had 
 taken all the spring to complete, and they had thought 
 it best not to attempt to entertain until house, kitchen 
 and cellar were in good order, for Weiss wanted to show 
 his friends how well he had done for himself. Meanwhile, 
 one invitation followed another all through the winter, 
 and the young couple were hardly ever free from 
 engagements. 
 
 To-day, almost all the officers of the regiment, 
 accompanied by their female belongings, were present in 
 Lilly's drawing-room. Everyone felt kindly towards the 
 bride, especially the Colonel's wife, who made a great 
 fuss of " her youngest daughter." 
 
 On these occasions Weiss was more amiable to his 
 wife than usual, for the way in which everyone admired 
 her youthful beauty, and paid her attentions, flattered his 
 vanity. He wished to awaken envy in them all, and 
 experienced a feeling of proud satisfaction on observing 
 the covetous glances his fellow officers threw at his wife. 
 
 Lilly could not complain in a general way of too 
 much love on her husband's side. His caresses grew 
 rarer and rarer every day, and whereas, when they were 
 first married, he hardly ever left the house except to go 
 to his work, now he was continually away from home, 
 even at meal-times, and often remained till late at night 
 
 1 60 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 at the club. If Lilly ever ventured a word of remonstrance 
 he was cross and disagreeable, and if, on returning home, 
 he found her sitting dreaming in the corner of the sofa, 
 her eyes swollen with crying, he would be angry with 
 her, and make use of coarse expressions in his irritability. 
 He repelled her caresses roughly, unless he felt in the 
 mood for sensual gratification, when he would shame- 
 lessly expect her to yield to his every caprice. The 
 involuntary disgust which Lilly felt for these out- 
 breaks of coarseness, and the lower instincts of her 
 husband, was overcome at present by her boundless love 
 for him, and a single loving word, or a kiss given of his 
 own accord, made her quickly forget all her bitterness, 
 and fanned the fire of her love to a renewed glow. 
 
 " I suppose he cannot help himself," she would think, 
 comforting herself by this self-deception, " and does not 
 realise how inconsiderate he is at times," and then she 
 would be as charmed with him as in the days of their 
 engagement. 
 
 To-day Weiss was exhibiting an extra amount of 
 amiability towards her in the presence of his fellow- 
 officers, even kissing her on the lips as they left the table, 
 which the ladies thought " sweet " on the part of the 
 " turtledoves." The men laughed, and one old captain, 
 who was a confirmed bachelor and woman-hater, shook 
 his head and said : " The fellow is head over ears in love. 
 Disgusting ! " 
 
 Lilly was beaming with happiness and looked quite a 
 picture in her white silk dress. Nobody would have 
 guessed that she had been in the kitchen all day superin- 
 tending the preparations for the meal, in order to please 
 
 i6i M 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 her husband, who had said the day before : " I wish the 
 whole town to talk of my dinner." 
 
 Thanks to their host's excellent taste in wine, his 
 guests had stuff such as they had never tasted before, 
 and the champagne flowed so freely that after dinner the 
 Colonel tapped Weiss on the shoulder in a friendly 
 manner, and said, holding up his finger and pretending 
 to scold him : " Too luxurious, my friend. You will 
 make humble fellows like us feel quite embarrassed." 
 The other men had nothing to complain of as regards 
 quantity or quality, and when later on they were sitting 
 chatting, with first-rate cigars between their lips and 
 Hennessy's " Three Star " brandy in their glasses, the 
 unanimous opinion was that it was " awfully well done." 
 No one knew that none of the providers of all these 
 delicacies had been paid a penny. The Lieutenant's 
 banking account was looked upon as inexhaustible. The 
 world judged by the expensively furnished villa, the 
 thoroughbred chestnuts, the two menservants in smart 
 liveries, and finally the dog-cart with indiarubber tyres 
 which Weiss drove to the barracks every morning and 
 kept waiting for hours in front of the club till he went 
 home again. His bill at the mess had also run into 
 enormously high figures, and on his omitting to pay it 
 on the first of the month *' because of heavy losses on the 
 Stock Exchange," the stories of his wealth increased 
 enormously. For to have had losses on the Stock 
 Exchange implied the existence of stocks and shares, the 
 possession of which in addition to his regular allowance 
 was quite unusual. 
 
 In reality it was Aunt Stanzchen who had to com- 
 162 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 plain of the heavy losses. But it served her as a good 
 excuse — greatly to his vexation — for not granting Weiss 
 a lump sum down besides the monthly allowance of 
 twenty-five pounds. She made no apologies for not 
 doing so ; on the contrary, she exhibited a somewhat 
 distant and cold manner towards him, which did not at 
 all harmonise with her former warmth. 
 
 Weiss knew quite well the reason of Stanzchen's 
 attitude towards him, for his visits had become less and 
 less frequent, and he had given her to understand, more 
 by his behaviour than in words, that he was tired of this 
 unnatural flirtation. Aunt Stanzchen, in her state of 
 nervous anxiety lest her dreams and castles in the air 
 should all vanish, had not failed to understand these 
 hints. She was deeply hurt that Weiss no longer valued 
 her love, and the tears she wept to relieve her aching 
 heart were not so much at the thought of losing her 
 lover, as the result of the injured pride of a woman who 
 has offered her whole self to a man who has scorned her 
 offer. At the same time her dislike to Lilly had grown 
 to a bitter hatred ; for in her she saw the being who, with 
 the radiance of youth, had eclipsed her own waning 
 charms, and absorbed all the feelings of a man over 
 whom Stanzchen thought she alone possessed a dearly 
 bought and specially privileged right. 
 
 For this reason she did not attend the young couple's 
 first dinner-party. The sight of her rival caused her 
 almost physical pain, and she did not think she would be 
 able to see them together without losing her self-control. 
 
 Weiss was not sorry Aunt Constance did not come, 
 for he did not think that her elderly beauty would be any 
 
 163 M 2 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 special ornament to his dinner-table. His fellow-officers, 
 however, were very disappointed not to see the mythical 
 aunt, for Weiss had told them so many good stories 
 about her, and frequently read them her poetical 
 efforts. Still, her reasons for not coming caused Weiss 
 some thought, for if this gradual cessation of their 
 relations were to be followed by a corresponding decrease 
 in the number of her cheques, he did not know what 
 would happen. 
 
 He had, therefore, no choice in the matter. The 
 only way which led to Stanzchen's money-bags and 
 made their contents available — until a large portion of 
 them was safely captured, when the curtain was welcome 
 to fall again — was by keeping the fire burning in her 
 bosom, and prolonging the comedy by a few acts ; 
 sustained, meanwhile, in his growing disgust, by the 
 consciousness that the result was worth it. 
 
 So Weiss made a martyr of himself and laid his 
 heart once more at the feet of the huffy old lady, in 
 a well-thought-out, diplomatic and highly theatrical 
 scene, winning her's once more in return. 
 
 Stanzchen appeared anxious to make up for the 
 deprivations of the last few months, and developed a 
 passion which far exceeded her former efforts, and which 
 made her insist on Weiss being with her whenever he 
 was not on duty. Weiss made the best of this turn of 
 affairs to pay off some of his debts, which had increased 
 considerably of late, for Stanzchen was in the habit of 
 putting a banknote secretly in his pocket when he em- 
 braced her at parting. As she was obliged to buy and 
 keep her happiness by the liberal expenditure of her 
 
 164 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 money, she wished to enjoy it to the full extent, and 
 paid for it at its full value. 
 
 Lilly was more than surprised at this — as she sup- 
 posed, sudden and intimate — friendship between the two. 
 She did not know what their relations had been before 
 her marriage. Her people had not told her anything 
 about the intimacy, for they looked on it as merely a 
 diplomatic stroke on the part of the son-in-law which, 
 although he seemed to be carrying it a little too far, would 
 naturally end after the wedding. Weiss, too, had always 
 given her other reasons for his absence. 
 
 Naturally she could not understand what Weiss had 
 to do with Stanzchen during whole afternoons and half 
 the nights. At the same time it was pleasanter for 
 her to know he was with her aunt than at the club, 
 from which he seldom returned quite sober. His be- 
 haviour, however, did not change for the better ; on the 
 contrary, his irritability increased, and his temper grew 
 daily worse, increased by his annoyance at his Captain's 
 complaints about his carelessness and want of interest in 
 his work. If his love for Lilly revived for a moment, he 
 showed it by such coarse attentions that she was filled 
 with disgust, and gradually came to prefer her husband 
 in any other mood. 
 
 As time went on, Lilly became used to her loneliness. 
 Her pain and bitter disappointment in her marriage, from 
 which she had hoped for such bliss, gradually turned to 
 silent resignation, and she bore her sorrow like a martyr, 
 learning to live her life within herself She lost her good 
 looks and her pretty figure, for she was on the way to 
 become a mother, and this change in the charm of her 
 
 165 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 appearance was not calculated to revive the dying love 
 of her husband. 
 
 The estrangement between them grew worse every 
 day. Lilly seldom saw her husband, as he spent his 
 leisure hours either at the club or with Stanzchen, whilst 
 Lilly remained alone with her thoughts. Unfortunately 
 a coolness had also sprung up between her and her 
 parents. At first old Koehler had only shaken his head 
 over his son-in-law's extravagant way of living, knowing 
 his circumstances well enough to be sure he must be 
 living beyond his means, since it was not possible that 
 Stanzchen's meanness could be transformed into such 
 liberality as to allow of such expenditure. Chancing to 
 hear that Weiss had raised a large loan by mortgage on 
 the expected legacy, he requested a personal interview 
 and told him what he thought of his conduct. The 
 result was a heated dispute, after which Koehler avoided 
 his son-in-law's house, and as Lilly, in her blind love 
 for her husband, resented her father's accusations, 
 she, too, quarrelled with the old man, and he left 
 the house sorrowfully. Lilly was too ashamed to take 
 the first step towards reconciliation, as it would look as 
 though she were blaming Weiss herself She would 
 rather bear her troubles alone, for her own people could 
 not help her, and she was too proud to ask for their 
 sympathy. 
 
 Weiss's friends seldom came to the villa now. His 
 degeneration, his irritability, his cantankerousness, and 
 the way in which he bragged, had robbed him of 
 his friends' sympathy and made him more than one 
 
 l66 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 enemy. Gradually rumours of his circumstances and 
 other questionable stories got about, so that most of 
 his friends were reserved in their bearing towards him. 
 At last only a small clique remained, comprised of those 
 who were still drawn to him by his champagne and 
 cigars, or to whom he lent his horses. Weiss was in the 
 habit of bringing those few remaining friends to his 
 house and gambling with them far into the night, so 
 that Lilly could hardly sleep for their noise and loud 
 laughter after she had withdrawn from the supper-table. 
 But of late even these guests stayed away, with the 
 exception of a Lieutenant Schonfeld, who came to tea 
 sometimes without Weiss. 
 
 Lilly felt truly grateful to her husband's young 
 brother-officer. Was he not the only being she had to 
 speak to, with the exception of the servants .^ The 
 continual loneliness had made her almost shy of her 
 fellow-creatures, and Schonfeld's visits were quite an 
 event. 
 
 Schonfeld was honestly sorry for his friend's wife. 
 Although no word of complaint as to her suffering 
 passed her lips, it did not require much penetration for 
 anyone who possessed a feeling heart to see it in her 
 eyes, which looked sadder than ever when she tried to 
 smile. If anyone passed by the house, Lilly was generally 
 to be seen, sitting with a pale face on the window-seat 
 of her boudoir, gazing out with a dreamy expression at 
 the sky. Weiss was seldom at home when Schonfeld 
 came to see his wife, and would never have heard of his 
 visits had not Lilly informed him whenever he called : 
 " Schonfeld was here to-day." 
 167 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 " H'm," was Weiss's usual answer. 
 
 At first he did not take the slightest interest in 
 Lilly's visitors. If he enquired occasionally, it was only 
 to find out which of his friends still kept up with his 
 wife. It was not until Lilly's reports became more and 
 more frequent that he would look at her questioningly, 
 or make some deprecating remark. 
 
 " I cannot refuse to let him in when he comes," Lilly 
 observed once timidly, whereupon he answered : 
 
 **As far as I'm concerned you can invite the whole 
 regiment." 
 
 Lilly made no reply, but mentally resolved to give 
 the Lieutenant a hint to visit her less frequently, since 
 his coming every day seemed for some reason to annoy 
 her husband. Often when he came home in the evening 
 he would ask in a sneering voice : 
 
 " Hasn't your Schonfeld been to-day } " 
 
 But, despite Lilly's hints, Schonfeld came more and 
 more often. Ever since she had told him of her loneli- 
 ness, and of the pleasure his visits gave her, he thought 
 he was doing her a kindness by coming as often as 
 possible. While drinking their coffee they would talk 
 about all sorts of harmless things, such as the little affairs 
 of the garrison. Sometimes Schonfeld would tell her 
 about his work, or the book he was reading, or amuse 
 her with some story of his schooldays. Then Lilly would 
 try to smile, although she had almost forgotten how. It 
 was only natural she should look upon these visits as 
 nothing more than a pleasant change. 
 
 Weiss, however, was filled with a growing sense of 
 uneasiness at the frequency of his comrade's visits. He 
 
 i68 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 could not bear the thought that the latter might seize 
 the opportunity of winning Lilly for himself, which would 
 be all the easier now that he had made her so suscep- 
 tible to any kindness by his own neglect. Therefore he 
 did not think it at all unlikely, judging her from his own 
 standpoint, that she would one day give herself to her 
 admirer, and so find consolation for all that was wanting 
 in her own husband. But it was only his own egotism, 
 not his love for Lilly, which made this thought unbear- 
 able to him. The torments of jealousy stirred within 
 and worried him incessantly. At the same time he 
 developed a fierce hatred of the man who he imagined 
 to be betraying his conjugal rights. Now that another 
 desired her, Lilly appeared desirable to him — that is to 
 say, as long as she could keep his sensual passion alive. 
 He would easily have got over her loss ; but to share 
 her with a rival — the mere idea made him mad with rage. 
 
 He tried to reconcile Lilly once more ; but his efforts 
 met, for the first time, with absolute indifference on her 
 part, and he even noticed a look of repulsion on her face 
 when he kissed her. All this only strengthened his 
 suspicions, and her attitude toward him made his blood 
 boil ; but he struggled to maintain his self-control, in 
 order not to spoil his plan at the outset. If only he 
 could find out the truth ! He must do so, at any price ! 
 
 He was not destined to find out anything from Lilly, 
 for she maintained a sceptical attitude towards his pro- 
 testations, repelled his caresses, was reserved in her 
 answers to his questions, and indifferent to the anguish 
 she could read in his eyes. She knew instinctively the 
 reason of her husband's trouble, and could see quite 
 
 169 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 clearly the struggle which was going on in his soul. 
 Because she knew the cause of his sufferings, nothing 
 moved her ; neither the smouldering fire in his eyes, nor 
 the nervous state of mind which he tried to disguise 
 under a calm exterior. Still less did she triumph over 
 his misery, for she realised, only too well, that it was not 
 caused by his love for her, but for himself; he was 
 merely agitated lest his own rights should suffer. So 
 Lilly would not yield. Perhaps Weiss might learn a 
 lesson, which would compel him to take serious counsel 
 with himself — meanwhile all sentimentality was weak- 
 ness. Lilly's recent sufferings had steeled her heart and 
 taught her to resist her own emotions. The woman in 
 her was awakened now that all her youthful dreams 
 had been destroyed, and pride had arisen out of the 
 ruins. 
 
 So Weiss found no relief for his tormenting doubts. 
 He would have to seek some other means of regaining 
 his peace of mind. 
 
 Schonfeld came regularly as usual. Hardly a day 
 passed that he did not visit Lilly. 
 
 Weiss now determined to take them by surprise. 
 
 One afternoon, when Schonfeld was having coffee with 
 Lilly, he noticed that his companion was more reserved 
 than usual. She hardly spoke, but looked sorrowfully at 
 him now and then, and altogether seemed quite changed. 
 This made Schonfeld uncomfortable. He was not aware 
 of having done anything to offend her, and did not 
 possess sufficient tact, in his simple-mindedness, to guess 
 at the cause of her altered manner. As she grew more 
 
 170 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 and more silent and reserved, he finally asked, in his 
 usual kind-hearted way : 
 
 " Are you cross with me ? " 
 
 " Why should I be cross with you ? " answered Lilly 
 with a sigh. 
 
 Schonfeld was silent. 
 
 Suddenly Lilly got up, and holding out her hand to 
 him, said in a pleading voice : 
 
 " Do not come here so often, dear friend, people are 
 talking about us." 
 
 " People — are talking about us ! " 
 
 Schonfeld was startled beyond measure, and stared 
 at Lilly in amazement. 
 
 " I'm awfully sorry, for your sake," he stammered at 
 length. " Allow me to take my leave at once." 
 
 "If you promise not to be angry with me, and to 
 come and see me sometimes," answered Lilly, her voice 
 trembling a little, and her eyes filling with tears. 
 
 " I, angry with you i* — I am only very sorry for you," 
 replied Schonfeld with a pitiful smile, and kissing her 
 hand he took his departure. 
 
 Just as Schonfeld entered the passage, he saw Weiss 
 coming furtively in at the front door. He went up to 
 him, and shaking hands, said : 
 
 " Good afternoon, Weiss — I've just been to see your 
 wife." 
 
 "Oh, have you.?" stammered Weiss, who seemed 
 very embarrassed, for he blushed violently. 
 
 Schonfeld looked at him enquiringly for a moment. 
 Weiss could not return the look, but gazed over the 
 other's head. 
 
 171 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 " Won't you stay a bit longer ? " he asked. 
 
 " Thanks very much," replied Schonfeld, " but I must 
 be off to my work. Good-bye ! " . 
 
 Weiss watched him go, deep in thought. His care- 
 fully laid plan had been spoilt by his tardy entrance. 
 His whole being was filled with the thought of the injury 
 done to him by another, and his anger rose to such a 
 pitch that an outburst was imminent. 
 
 But he controlled himself for the moment and, clench- 
 ing his teeth, went to his own room. For a long while 
 he strode up and down trying to collect his agitated 
 thoughts, and think it all over calmly. 
 
 An hour later he went across to Lilly's boudoir, and 
 found her reading a book which Schonfeld had lent her. 
 His wife scarcely noticed his entrance. She answered 
 his greeting with polite indifference, and, after walking 
 one or twice up and down the room, he came to a stand- 
 still in front of her, and said, with forced calmness : 
 " Well, and what news did Schonfeld bring ? " 
 
 " News } None," answered Lilly quietly. 
 
 " What have you been talking about the whole after- 
 noon then ? " 
 
 " Schonfeld was only here a few minutes." 
 
 " So you quarrelled, did you } " said Weiss, pretend- 
 ing to joke about it. 
 
 " Quarrelled .? What should we quarrel about .? " 
 replied Lilly, shrugging her shoulders. 
 
 "He seemed rather funny when he left," persisted 
 Weiss. 
 
 " He was probably rather sad." 
 
 " Sad ? " Weiss began to get excited. 
 172 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 " Yes, sad. I am too." 
 
 " Why } " said Weiss, trying to suppress his agitation. 
 
 "Because now I have lost the one person I had to 
 speak to, by asking him not to come any more." 
 
 " Do you miss him so much then } " asked Weiss 
 abruptly. 
 
 " Certainly I do ! " replied Lilly. 
 
 " Why, Lilly .... why do you miss him ? . . . . tell 
 me Lilly ! " said Weiss, coming close to her and feeling 
 for her hand. 
 
 " Why } What a strange question ! " answered Lilly, 
 with a disdainful shrug. 
 
 Weiss let go her hand and went back a few paces, 
 his eyes blazed, and the veins stood out on his forehead. 
 
 " Why ? " he shouted, loudly and threateningly, ** I 
 know why ! " 
 
 Lilly started violently at the tone of his voice. 
 
 " If you know, then your questions are superfluous," 
 she answered, without looking up. 
 
 "Yes, indeed," shouted Weiss, louder still. "You 
 think, that behind my back you will " 
 
 He did not finish his sentence, the look in Lilly's 
 eyes, which she raised slowly to his, enforced his 
 silence. 
 
 " I am used to your being disagreeable, but I did not 
 know you could be vulgar as well ! " 
 
 The words struck Weiss like a blow ; and he remained 
 staring at Lilly, seeking for a suitable reply. 
 
 Suddenly she got up and turned to leave the room, 
 her eyes full of tears. 
 
 " Lilly ! " cried Weiss. But she paid no heed and 
 173 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 walked to the door sobbing bitterly. " Lilly ! " he cried, 
 once more, " forgive me if I have wronged you," and 
 hurrying after her, he seized her hands from behind. 
 
 Lilly stood still and buried her tear-stained face in 
 her handkerchief. 
 
 " We do not understand each other," she sobbed ; 
 whilst Weiss put his arm round her and drew her close 
 to him. Then he kissed her passionately again and 
 
 again, drying her tears with his burning kisses. 
 
 ■1^ * * * * 
 
 That evening the young couple sat down to a gaily- 
 decorated dinner-table. All the electric light was turned 
 on ; among the crystal dishes a large bouquet of roses 
 exhaled its perfume through the room, and the two 
 lingered long over the champagne. Every word was a 
 
 caress, every glance a kiss, every kiss a reconciliation. 
 
 ***** 
 
 The feast of love was followed by a night of love. 
 On awakening the next morning, Weiss looked at his 
 wife, still asleep by his side. Her hair was untidy, her 
 face had grown pale and drawn, her figure was no longer 
 beautiful, and there were dark shadows under her eyes. 
 He looked at her a long time, and the more he looked 
 the more his dislike for her grew. This was the woman 
 for whom he had sacrificed his pride, and whom he 
 thought was desired by another. 
 
 Morning too often shows us the pleasures of the 
 previous night stripped of illusion's glamour and over- 
 shadowed by the sense of satiety. The charm of novelty 
 which things possess in our eyes when we still desire 
 them has given place to the uncomfortable conviction 
 
 174 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 of their uselessness when once we have obtained them, 
 and we experience either disappointment or regret. 
 
 Weiss dressed without awakening Lilly, and went off 
 to the barracks. On his return that afternoon she saw 
 at once from his expression what sort of mood he was 
 in, and spared him her caresses, for which he appeared 
 to have no inclination. 
 
 The following days did not bring about any change 
 in his demeanour, and at the end of a week, she was 
 ashamed that she had allowed herself to be the victim 
 of his selfish and dishonourable game. That day, and 
 the night which followed, now seemed to her an insult 
 to her pride, a passing dream, to which she had clung so 
 closely that she hardly knew how to console herself 
 since it had all ended in disenchantment. 
 
 The continued struggle between his own inclinations 
 and the force of circumstances made Weiss more dis- 
 contented and irritable every day. It was not so much 
 a question of Lilly ; he was used to seeing her in a state 
 of silent resignation and was not touched by it in any 
 way, so that the ties which bound them together did 
 not oppress him at all ; it was his relations with the 
 insatiable Aunt Stanzchen which tried his patience to 
 the utmost. He had tried to put her off by intentional 
 brutality in their relations, but had achieved quite the 
 opposite result. Every hour of the day or night which he 
 spent with her increased her devotion, and Weiss hardly 
 knew what to do to save himself from the demands she 
 made on him. He acquiesced because he was obliged to, 
 for his pecuniary position had become very precarious. 
 
 175 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 The money constantly supplied by Stanzchen was 
 immediately absorbed by his numerous creditors, so 
 that often he had nothing but a sovereign in his pocket, 
 and could only give Lilly half the housekeeping money. 
 When he tried to talk seriously with Stanzchen about 
 the expected legacy, she was offended and spoke of the 
 long life she would enjoy now that he himself had 
 brought back her youth. She invariably excused herself 
 for not advancing him larger sums on the ground that 
 the money market was in a bad way and the moment 
 unfavourable, although at any time some trifling political 
 event might improve the situation. 
 
 Weiss consoled himself with these excuses, and did 
 not observe that they were merely a diplomatic stroke 
 on the part of the aunt to bring down the price of love. 
 
 It was not until there was danger of the interest 
 not being paid on his mortgage, that he approached 
 Stanzchen really in earnest. 
 
 The Aunt showed no disposition to grant his request. 
 At first she begged him not to disturb the poetry of 
 their intercourse by talking of material things. Then 
 she went back to the same old excuse. It was not so 
 much a spirit of miserliness that prompted her actions, 
 as the fear of loosening the ties that bound Weiss to her. 
 These she knew would endure just as long as he required 
 her pecuniary assistance. When he was no longer de- 
 pendent upon her, he could forsake her without risk to 
 himself. She did not know how much she tried his 
 temper by her conduct, which circumstance, however, was 
 destined to be the rock on which her ship should split. 
 
 The rupture actually came when one morning Weiss 
 176 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 arrived very early at her house in an excitable condition 
 and demanded immediately a cheque for a large sum. 
 She hesitated to advance the desired amount, whereupon 
 he lost control of his temper at the prospect of not being 
 able to meet a debt of honour due that afternoon. He 
 spoke of their unnatural relations in the most revolting 
 terms, and destroyed all Stanzchen's bliss by declaring 
 in conclusion that he would have nothing more to do 
 with her. 
 
 Needless to say, his hasty conduct caused him bitter 
 regrets. Later, when he had calmed down, he was dis- 
 turbed by the thought that perhaps he had said things 
 in his anger which could not be made good. At the 
 same time he comforted himself with the reflection that 
 the old lady was caught too fast in his net ever to get 
 free, and was almost surprised that a messenger did not 
 arrive the same evening with the cheque and one of 
 Stanzchen's inevitable pink notes. Doubtless he would 
 come to-morrow. 
 
 The next morning, quite early, the messenger came. 
 He announced that Fraulein Konstanze von Koehler had 
 been gathered to her fathers during the night 
 
 There was a rumour of poison. 
 
 ***** 
 
 Lilly was expecting her confinement. She kept away 
 from her husband's sight as much as possible during this 
 time, for he invariably grumbled at her appearance, 
 vented his temper on her, and reproached her with not 
 having brought any dower on her marriage. Weiss was 
 tormented by creditors. It literally rained bills and 
 orders to pay his debts, whilst he himself had scarcely a 
 
 177 N 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 shilling in his pocket, for he had exhausted all his credit 
 and no one would wait any longer after Stanzchen's 
 death. He was also threatened with a summons before 
 a court of honour for non-payment of his gambling debts, 
 and both Lilly and his unfortunate subordinates suffered 
 from his intense irritability. One day he went so far as 
 to accuse his wife of extravagance when she asked for 
 the housekeeping money, and, on her resenting such an 
 accusation, he had used violence to her. 
 
 As the day approached for the reading of Stanzchen's 
 will, Weiss's irritability increased. Lilly dreaded that 
 day even more than her confinement, which was preceded 
 by giddiness and fainting fits. Her apprehension at 
 the reading of the will was founded upon a letter she 
 had received as a last greeting from her Aunt Stanzchen, 
 who had left twenty-four closely written sheets, revealing 
 her relations with Weiss and all his baseness. She con- 
 cluded by saying that his wife had made him what he 
 was : a man capable of throwing such insults in her face, 
 and added that Lilly's influence on Weiss had always 
 been a degrading one. 
 
 This was Stanzchen's revenge ! 
 
 The contents of this abusive and libellous letter left 
 Lilly untouched. She regarded the whole affair as 
 merely an episode. Her cup of sorrow and disappoint- 
 ment had long since been filled to overflowing, and her 
 husband was already lost to her. What she learnt of his 
 conduct through Stanzchen's letter only caused her to 
 shake her head over him, but did not give her the least 
 pain. Weiss found this letter the same evening on 
 Lilly's writing-table and, seized with curiosity as to its 
 
 178 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 contents, picked it up and read it. His rage knew no 
 bounds, and he accused Lilly of communicating with 
 Stanzchen behind his back, and of having suggested her 
 revenge. 
 
 He answered Lilly's indignant protests with coarse 
 oaths, and shook her so roughly that she fell in a faint 
 on the floor. Her mother, whom she had sent for in her 
 anxiety, was refused admittance, and her father, who 
 came hurrying to the house to see what had happened, 
 had the door shut in his face. 
 
 The day of the reading of the will had come. Weiss 
 represented his wife, and all the rest of the family had 
 assembled for the occasion. Whilst the Koehlers pulled 
 long faces over the reading of it, which disclosed the fact 
 that Stanzchen had left her entire fortune to the poor, 
 Weiss was as white as a sheet, for the clause referring 
 to him ran as follows : — 
 
 " First-Lieutenant Weiss receives the sum of ;^i,ooo, 
 which has already been paid him." 
 
 The will concluded with these words : — 
 
 " I hope therefore that my dear relations will not 
 grudge the poor their legacy. I do not wish any 
 expenditure to be made on flowers for my grave. My 
 one request is : Remember me kindly in your thoughts." 
 
 During a violent quarrel with his wife, in which his 
 pent-up rage overstepped all bounds, Weiss struck her 
 violently, after having dragged her, screaming for help, 
 into his room, and on her falling senseless to the floor, 
 he kicked her in his blind fury. 
 
 It was not until his rage had exhausted itself, and he 
 179 N 2 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 was able to take a calm view of the situation, that his 
 inhuman conduct dawned slowly upon him. 
 
 First-Lieutenant Weiss left the town by the night 
 express to escape his creditors, the results of his doubtful 
 money transactions, and the inevitable summons to 
 appear before the court of honour. 
 
 That same night his wife brought a still-born son 
 into the world. 
 
 1 80 
 
Chapter VII. 
 
 S CHILL'S departure left no gap in the regiment. 
 A comrade from the Guards, who, by reason of 
 a duel, had made himself impossible in his own 
 troop, was put in his place, and filled it quite 
 completely. He passed for an able officer, possessed 
 excellent moral qualities, and was greatly respected by 
 his comrades. His energetic bearing and the manner in 
 which, through the influence of his personality, he kept 
 all those comrades whose tone displeased him, within 
 bounds, soon procured for him, not only authority in his 
 capacity as senior at mess, but also the regard of his 
 superiors, whom he had won by the circumspect and 
 independent manner in which he carried out his regi- 
 mental duties. Moreover, he intended to profit by the 
 quietness of the frontier-garrison to prepare himself for 
 the military college examination. 
 
 But all the greater was the void left by Schill in the 
 heart of his friend. 
 
 Koehler had felt lonely and forsaken since the 
 day he accompanied him to the station. Even Schill's 
 numerous letters failed to distract him from the melan- 
 choly moods which oppressed him daily more and more. 
 He withdrew almost entirely from his comrades, only 
 joining them at table, or in the ordinary arrangements at 
 the club. Most of them took this amiss, and called him a 
 prig. But since Koehler had shed some of his simplicity, 
 and had learned to see many things and many persons in 
 a different light, he had conceived an ever-increasing 
 
 i8i 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 dislike to some of his comrades. To all this was added 
 the constant vexations and differences in his relations 
 with Captain Baer. It is true that he had gradually grown 
 accustomed to the latter's peculiarities and surly manner, 
 but still there was often cause for serious annoyance, and 
 his pleasure in his profession gave way more and more to 
 very different feelings. 
 
 His pecuniary circumstances were also in a very bad 
 way. Since his aunt's death the monthly allowance of 
 fifty marks had ceased, and he was, in consequence, 
 obliged to eke out his existence on the scanty allowance 
 which he received from his father. The disastrous ex- 
 periences in his former garrison, however, kept him from 
 outrunning the constable, and, by the exercise of great 
 frugality and economy, he just managed to get through. 
 
 In consequence of two younger men being put into 
 the regiment, Koehler was asked to take lodgings in the 
 town. He was really glad of this, for whereas hitherto, the 
 allowance for the room in barracks had been deducted 
 from his pay, it was now given to him for rent, and he 
 was thus enabled to get a much quieter and better 
 lodging for a smaller sum. 
 
 Captain Vogel seized the opportunity to draw 
 Koehler's attention to a vacant lodging in his own house. 
 He so strongly enlarged upon the advantages of living 
 with a comrade, and named so low a rent, that Koehler 
 resolved to consider the matter. 
 
 Captain Vogel rented the whole of the house in 
 question, and was in the habit of letting rooms to com- 
 rades, though always pretending that he was only the 
 agent of the landlord. It was pretty generally known 
 
 182 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 that he himself really pocketed the money paid for rent. 
 And this source of gain, although not exactly befitting 
 his position, was, perhaps, excusable, as he was in poor 
 circumstances. It was further known that the young 
 housekeeper living in the house was Vogel's mistress, and 
 that her child was also his. The " Vogel-house " was 
 therefore, in bad repute with the respectable citizens of 
 the little town, and when the Captain's "lady" went 
 shopping, she had to run the gauntlet of contemptuous 
 glances. His comrades, as men of the world, overlooked 
 all this, for they spent many a lively hour in the " Vogel- 
 house." 
 
 For a year past the Captain had been short of lodgers, 
 since the last had quarrelled with him on account of 
 unpunctuality in their payments, and consequently had 
 much to say against him and his housekeeper. They 
 naturally kept the real cause of their leaving to themselves, 
 alleging as sufficient reason the disorderly management 
 of the " Vogel-house." Koehler, therefore, hesitated for 
 some time. He reflected, however, that he could arrange 
 his own life as he chose, and his lingering doubts were 
 dispelled by Vogel's persistent persuasions, and by the 
 fact that it would hardly be possible to find a cheaper 
 lodging. 
 
 So, one fine day, Kohler migrated to the Vogel-house. 
 His comrades wagged their heads, and were not sparing 
 of more or less jocular remarks, but Major Preusse shook 
 his doubtfully, and regretted that he had not known of 
 Koehler's intentions beforehand. 
 
 Koehler soon made himself very comfortable in his 
 new home. If the noise of the child disturbed him at 
 
 183 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 times, he soon learned to set against this the advantages 
 which this lodging offered in contrast to his former one, 
 and he did not in the least regret his decision. 
 
 Captain Vogel had invited his lodger to be his guest 
 on the first evening. On this occasion Koehler had become 
 acquainted with the housekeeper, whom he had hitherto 
 known only by sight. She behaved both at table and 
 at other times exactly as if she were really the Captain's 
 wife, accepting the title of " gracious lady " as a token of 
 respect justly due to her. 
 
 The evil reports about " Hanna Vogel "did not seem 
 justified by what Koehler was able to observe during the 
 evening. They must at all events have been maliciously 
 exaggerated, for Hanna impressed him most agreeably. 
 She was charmingly cordial, most attentive, and quite 
 pretty into the bargain, while her bright humour made 
 both men laugh more than once. In addition the house- 
 keeping seemed exemplary in its perfect order, so that 
 Koehler could not make out why so many disparaging 
 remarks should have been made on this subject. 
 
 The first visit was not the last. Henceforth Koehler 
 spent almost all his free evenings, and very often his 
 afternoons also, in the Captain's apartments, which were 
 on the ground floor ; his own rooms being situated on 
 the first floor opposite to those of Hanna. At first he 
 certainly felt some scruples about taking daily advantage 
 of the Captain's hospitality, the latter's impecunious 
 circumstances being well known to him, but Vogel made 
 light of these ideas, and seemed greatly pleased at 
 Koehler's regular visits. 
 
 Thus, in the course of time, a kind of friendship sprang 
 184 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 up between the comrades, unhampered by any considera- 
 tions as to their military duties, since they belonged to 
 different troops. Koehler told his father all about it. 
 
 The Major was not very pleased with this state of 
 affairs. He considered it unnatural that a young lieu- 
 tenant and an old captain should be such close friends. 
 He knew from his own period of active service that such 
 friendships frequently end in a quarrel, or are suddenly 
 broken off one fine day through some unforeseen pro- 
 fessional contretemps. He therefore continued to warn 
 his son against too great an intimacy, even though Benno 
 received these objections with careless reassurances. 
 Schill, too, was by no means gratified when he learned 
 who was his successor in Koehler's friendship. He knew 
 the Captain almost better than anyone in the regiment, 
 after serving with him for six years, three of them as his 
 first lieutenant. He, also, warned Koehler most strongly 
 and urgently, but after receiving the same kind of replies 
 as old Major von Koehler, he ceased to refer to the 
 matter in his subsequent letters, which became gradually 
 rarer. Koehler himself was firmly persuaded that every- 
 thing unfavourable said or thought about the "Vogel 
 family " could only proceed either from malice, or from 
 want of personal acquaintance with the real worth of the 
 Captain. No well-meant advice could therefore keep 
 him from cultivating more intimate relations with his two 
 friendly fellow-inhabitants, and soon he grew to be 
 looked upon quite as one of the family. 
 
 One day, as Koehler was again deploring to Vogel his 
 reluctance to share their daily meals without ever making 
 any return, the Captain briefly proposed that he should 
 
 185 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 contribute a certain monthly sum to the household 
 expenses : a proposition in which Koehler at once joyfully 
 acquiesced, as he felt that the only uncomfortable part 
 of his relations with Vogel would thus be removed. He 
 now cultivated this friendship all the more assiduously, 
 and resolved to make up for all the material benefits 
 already received, so as to rid himself of any unpleasant 
 feeling of obligation. He therefore provided Frau 
 H anna's kitchen with the refrigerator she had so long 
 desired, sent in numerous delicacies, presented the small 
 son with toys, handed one day to Hanna a magnificent 
 bouquet of roses and, knowing Vogel to be an inveterate 
 smoker, placed in the Captain's room a box of imported 
 cigars "for general use." These extravagances were 
 certainly not justified by the present state of his finances, 
 but he considered them absolutely necessary and there- 
 fore had these purchases put down to his account. 
 
 The intimate friendship between Koehler and Vogel 
 exercised an unfortunate influence upon the relations of 
 the former with Captain Baer. Baer and Vogel were 
 like cat and dog. This inimical feeling had spread to 
 their respective squadrons, so that the men eyed each 
 other askance, and even blows were occasionally known to 
 pass. When it was known on a field-day that Baer and 
 Vogel were to be on opposite sides, the announcement 
 was received with delight, for it had once happened that 
 the two captains had attacked each other in the open 
 field, without waiting for their men, and each had 
 asserted that the other was his prisoner. Baer was 
 therefore now able to kill two birds with one stone, as he 
 tormented his lieutenant with redoubled energy, and he 
 
 i86 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 positively cudgelled his brains to make every word tell 
 against both men. 
 
 All Koehler's repeated efforts to get transferred 
 to another troop fell through. Colonel von Held con- 
 sidered Koehler's treatment by his captain the surest 
 means of keeping the lieutenant, whom he looked upon 
 as extremely indiscreet and frivolous, out of mischief 
 He was particularly anxious just now that there should 
 be no " scandal " in the regiment, his chief having given 
 him one more year of trial in his present position, 
 intimating this fact to him with the words : " I hope 
 to be able to form a better opinion of you at the 
 year's end." 
 
 Koehler found some consolation in listening to Vogel's 
 diatribes upon the " Monster Baer." They often passed 
 the whole evening talking of nothing but his eccen- 
 tricities, Hanna chiming in with many malicious and 
 witty remarks. 
 
 Thus Christmastide approached. 
 
 Last year Koehler had been prevented by his 
 military duties from spending Christmas with his parents, 
 this year he preferred to spend it with the Vogel family. 
 Their relations had become so intimate that it seemed 
 quite natural to all of them to celebrate the chief festival 
 of the year together, and the preparations which Hanna 
 had already begun to make gave every prospect of an 
 agreeable holiday. 
 
 It was not only a feeling oi friendship for Hanna and 
 Vogel, however, that kept Koehler back : he felt a certain 
 inclination for his "foster-mother," and she — apparently — 
 felt the same for him. With Koehler this was possibly 
 
 187 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 less the effect of H anna's charms — for such the elderly 
 girl possessed only in a limited degree — than of the fact 
 that she was the one woman with whom he had come into 
 close contact during the eighteen months he had passed 
 in the garrison. For the unapproachable daughters of 
 the townspeople saw a seducer in every lieutenant, and 
 even the salute of an officer was sufficient to compromise 
 a girl in the eyes of her fellow-citizens. He loathed 
 intercourse with that all-too-obliging lady Grete, and 
 therefore had hardly met a member of the other sex, 
 except the womenkind of his brother officers, who 
 were mostly plain and atrociously attired. Daily inter- 
 course with a girl whose unscrupulous immorality was 
 clearly shown by her association with Vogel, had 
 necessarily a certain charm for him, and the involuntary 
 feeling that Vogel had not been H anna's first lover 
 brought with it the self-evident certainty that neither 
 would he be her last. This consciousness, which gradu- 
 ally grew to conviction, that the woman before him might 
 one day belong to him just as well as to anybody else, 
 awoke a secret desire for Hanna in Koehler's breast. 
 He would certainly have felt it wrong to yield to this wish. 
 For even if Hanna was not legally Vogel's wife, she 
 absolutely assumed the position, for their manner of living 
 together was in every way distinct from the usual " inti- 
 mate relations." There subsisted therefore a somewhat 
 higher moral standard in this free marriage, which, 
 according to the character and personality of those 
 concerned, approaches almost to that of a legal union : 
 at times — when such ties are based on true and selfless 
 love alone — they may even rise superior to the usual 
 
 i88 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 marriage-morality, which knows no laws but those of 
 conventionality. 
 
 These were Koehler's feelings, which expressed them- 
 selves in a sense of duty : to consider the relations between 
 Vogel and Hanna as a true marriage, and to stifle any 
 desire for Hanna as immorality bordering upon adultery. 
 
 Hanna's liking for the good-looking young Lieutenant 
 von Koehler arose from far different feelings. She had 
 no disposition to indulge in ideal meditations upon duty 
 and sin ; where the male sex was concerned she knew 
 only the desire of the senses, associated with a wish for 
 external advantages, which the man of her choice must 
 have to offer her. 
 
 Vogel and Koehler seemed to her about equal as 
 regards the latter point. But the sensual love, of which 
 she had long ago had enough from Vogel, seemed some- 
 thing new, and therefore attractive, when offered by 
 another. This attraction was heightened by the belief, 
 rooted in the instinctively feminine over-estimation of 
 self, that Koehler desired in her not only the Eve but 
 the woman. For involuntarily she sought in another, 
 before she could love him, the higher feelings to which 
 she herself was a stranger. That she also carefully hid 
 her inclination, was due not so much to devotion or con- 
 sideration for her former lover, as to her ignorance of 
 how far she could trust in Koehler's penchant, without 
 risking the disappointment which might follow an over- 
 hasty action on her part. 
 
 Captain Vogel complacently played gooseberry. It 
 had not escaped his keen eye that there was something 
 in the air. But for the present he acted the simpleton, 
 
 189 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 and secretly laughed in his sleeve. It was no deep 
 feeling but merely habit, that bound him to Hanna. He 
 was too good-natured to separate from her suddenly. 
 Besides he would have missed her, if he did not wish to 
 give up a great part of his comfort. But the thought of 
 separation had long lain dormant in his mind. He had 
 already weighed the possibilities of marriage several 
 times — less from sentimental than from pecuniary reasons 
 — and the existence of Hanna had always been an 
 impediment. As long as she was not provided for in 
 one form or another, he seemed debarred from all chance 
 of a separation. His only hope, therefore, was that 
 some day Hanna would, of her own accord, attach 
 herself elsewhere and leave him of her own free will. 
 He therefore hailed the growing inclination between the 
 two with secret pleasure, all the more that contrary to 
 former cases it was not on Hanna's side alone, but 
 apparently quite as much on Koehler's. This fitted in 
 with his calculations. Therefore he always pretended to 
 be perfectly easy when he found the two alone together, 
 and was more amiable to Koehler than ever. 
 
 The longing for home which Koehler had felt so 
 bitterly on the Christmas Eve of last year did not trouble 
 him this time. It was true that when he had read his 
 father's and mother's letters their agonised words of 
 grief at Lilly's fate passed like daggers through his soul, 
 but his sorrow for Lilly — which had been Iredoubled — 
 and his sympathy for the parents* distress both paled 
 before the festive feelings which possess every one at 
 Christmastide. 
 
 190 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 Koehler had not been sparing in presents for Hanna. 
 The comparative indifference which the Captain — as 
 father of the family — had shown with regard to the 
 preparations for Christmas, had incited him to be all 
 the more generous. He bought the Christmas-tree, 
 and decorated it himself, as he had been wont to do 
 in his childhood ; he bought whole mountains of fruit 
 and confectionery, taking, on the credit of his uniform, 
 what he could not pay for in cash. Among the items 
 were two dresses for Hanna, a valuable ring, various 
 household articles, and — as crowning point — a splendid 
 set of furs. The festive meal was not forgotten, nor the 
 accompanying wines — nothing was too dear for him. 
 All his good resolutions scattered like chaff before the 
 wind, leaving nothing behind but one brief pang of 
 remorse, which passed as quickly as it came. 
 
 Hanna, too, made the most of her modest means, 
 giving Koehler the best presents and Vogel hardly 
 anything. The latter seemed quite contented, however, 
 and gave vent during the holidays to an almost exag- 
 gerated gaiety. He thought he had every reason to 
 believe his secret plans successful. The way in which 
 Koehler had rushed into expense on Hanna's account 
 left no doubt as to the ardent state of his feelings. 
 
 Now it only needed a little diplomacy to entice the 
 two into the trap and to close it at the right moment ; 
 then they might sit in it, while he could cheerfully go 
 his own way. 
 
 Two days after Christmas the Captain informed his 
 astonished companions that he intended to go away on the 
 following morning for a week. The object of his journey 
 
 191 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 was, first, to leave the two to themselves for a week, and, 
 secondly, to take soundings in his own neighbourhood 
 with regard to a future marriage. For Vogel no longer 
 doubted that his hopes would be punctually fulfilled, 
 especially when through his absence he threw a tempta- 
 tion in their way which the couple certainly would not 
 be able to resist. 
 
 But he was mistaken. Koehler could not bring 
 himself to overstep those barriers which his views upon 
 the sanctity of free marriage had led him to adopt, 
 and every time Hanna had unconsciously brought 
 him near to the point he always recoiled from the last 
 step, as though he saw some warning figure of Nemesis 
 lurking in the background. He never exceeded the 
 customary kiss of the hand, and Hanna, who would 
 not offer herself to him, but wished to be won in as 
 romantic a scene as possible, stopped just where 
 Koehler stopped. Koehler himself took her coyness for 
 virtue. 
 
 Vogel was greatly disappointed to find on his return 
 that the two, instead of having come closer together, 
 were, if anything, somewhat estranged, and still far from 
 having, as he had hoped, attained the object of their own 
 and his wishes. He was not sure either whether this 
 peaceful state of affairs was before or after the storm .? 
 If before, he had returned too soon, and had come upon 
 the scene only as a kill-joy — if after, he had come too 
 late, and would have to try to profit by some subsequent 
 opportunity. 
 
 His observations soon told him that he had come 
 back too soon. The iron was still hot, and he tried to 
 
 192 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 strike it by absenting himself for whole days at the Club, 
 or going out hunting. Each time he returned, he found 
 the same picture : two people, who were not even any 
 longer able to conceal their burning desire for each 
 other, but who were afraid to take the last step towards 
 the fulfilment of their wishes, either from practical, or 
 moral, considerations. 
 
 This stand-still in his calculations annoyed him. For 
 the investigations he had made in the direction of a 
 possible matrimonial find had been satisfactory. He 
 had but to stretch out his hand. His only plan there- 
 fore was to wait. But he waited in vain. The fruit 
 which had not thriven in his absence, ripened still less in 
 his continual presence, which was a reminder to Koehler 
 of those considerations which had been the real obstacle 
 to the final step. It is easier to betray a man behind his 
 back than to his face ; therefore Koehler now took no 
 further initiative. 
 
 Vogel grew tired of the long suspense. He took 
 counsel with himself how to force the situation. For 
 forced it must be. It did not suit him either to play the 
 simpleton any longer, or to let slip a favourable oppor- 
 tunity of marriage, only for the sake of awaiting the end 
 of a flirtation, which very possibly might come to 
 nothing. Besides he was weary of playing the part of 
 the deceived third party. 
 
 There were several methods of bringing about a 
 solution. But one seemed too transparent, the other 
 too risky, the third too far-fetched, and the situation 
 required a rapid decision, which would go at once, and 
 surely, to the point. 
 
 193 O 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 After long reflection Vogel made up his mind. One 
 morning when Koehler had gone on duty, he went half- 
 dressed into Hanna's bedroom, and without much 
 circumlocution, informed her that for pressing reasons, 
 which he had hitherto withheld from her, he intended to 
 marry. 
 
 Hanna stared at him with wide-opened eyes. 
 
 " To marry ? " she exclaimed hoarsely. 
 
 "Just so," replied Vogel carelessly. "Why should 
 you be so very surprised. You knew things could not 
 go on like this for ever ! " 
 
 " Oh, you mean wretch ! " sobbed Hanna, and buried 
 her head in the pillows. 
 
 Hanna's outburst of grief touched Vogel, for it had 
 every appearance of being genuine. He sat down 
 on the edge of the bed, and felt for her hand. He 
 sat so for some time, while Hanna cried into her 
 pillows in a heartrending manner ; then he said hesitat- 
 ingly : 
 
 " Let us talk sensibly for once." 
 
 Hanna slowly turned her face towards him, and strove 
 to master her tears. 
 
 " You see," he said, " I am now at an age when I 
 must marry, if I am to marry at all. You may imagine 
 that my inclinations do not lead me that way — but there 
 is nothing else for it, because, from the money point of 
 view, I have come to the end of my tether." 
 
 "And what is to become of me and your child ? " said 
 Hanna, beginning to sob again. " I suppose I can go 
 and beg my bread ! " 
 
 " But my dear child ! " said Vogel consolingly, " who 
 
 194 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 says anything of the kind ? Don't you" see, I have been 
 thinking that a pretty girl like you " 
 
 " Can soon find another lover, you mean ? Oh, how 
 inexpressibly mean you are ! " She sobbed so that 
 Vogel had hard work to pacify her. 
 
 " I meant nothing of the kind," he said at length. 
 " You and I can speak quite openly to each other. We 
 are certainly very fond of one another, but not so 
 desperately that we absolutely cannot live apart ! " 
 
 " I could not live without you," gasped Hanna. 
 
 " Oh, nonsense. That is only your imagination. 
 Look here, all you have to do is simply to go on living 
 here — I will continue to pay the rent — and Koehler is so 
 fond of you that " 
 
 " How on earth do you know that } " cried Hanna in 
 astonishment, while her tears suddenly dried up. 
 
 " Why a blind man could see that ! " laughed Vogel. 
 " He is simply waiting until I " 
 
 " No, he does not want anything from me," replied 
 Hanna tearfully, and instantly knew that she had given 
 herself away. 
 
 " Oh ho, and how do you know that ? " asked Vogel 
 with a roguish smile. 
 
 " Because — oh, because I have a feeling that it is so," 
 Hanna stammered out. 
 
 " Well, there you are mightily mistaken. I don't 
 mind betting you that he is yours whenever you like. 
 He just seems to me a wee bit shy." 
 
 " And even if I had him, what good would it do me } '* 
 She turned away again, and broke into fresh tears. 
 
 " Well, but Koehler is a nice, good-looking fellow, he 
 195 O 2 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 has money — and is surely more suitable in age to you 
 than I am, isn't he ? " 
 
 " And then what am I to do when one day he is tired 
 of me, like you ? " 
 
 Vogel smiled knowingly. He looked round as if to 
 make sure that he was unheard, then he said softly, 
 almost in a whisper : — 
 
 " Dear me, Hanna, you are not generally so stupid. 
 You must know quite well how to get hold of such an 
 inexperienced boy — I mean it is easy enough to work it 
 so that he marries you." 
 
 Hanna listened intently. She almost held her breath 
 as she asked : 
 
 " And how, pray 1 " 
 
 " Attend ! " said Vogel mysteriously. " But give me 
 your word that you will never betray what I am going to 
 tell you. I only want to do what is best for you. 
 Koehler is in love with you. Be amiable to him, get 
 a promise from him — and — a possible baby even might 
 settle the matter." 
 
 Hanna looked searchingly at Vogel for a moment. 
 Then she suddenly laughed aloud, and fairly shook with 
 merriment. The practicability of the idea entered into 
 her mind like a joyful ray of light. 
 
 " You really are awfully sharp ! " she cried, still 
 laughing. 
 
 " Oh, well," said Vogel, also laughing ; " but it is 
 quite true ! " 
 
 " But if No, it is too ridiculous ! " and she 
 
 shook again 
 
 " What do you mean, if? " 
 196 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 "If he doesn't !" 
 
 " Oh, interrupted Vogel, laughing ; " I understand ! 
 
 You little rascal ! As if I were not still there too ! I 
 
 have proved it." Vogel proudly smote himself upon the 
 
 breast. " Nonsense ! " 
 
 » « « « « 
 
 Captain Vogel had made matters quite clear between 
 himself and Hanna. He intended to go off again next 
 morning about " family affairs," not to return before 
 Hanna's telegram announcing victory should call him 
 back. Koehler wondered that Vogel should absent 
 himself just before Hanna's approaching birthday ; but 
 Hanna whispered privately to him : 
 
 " We will keep it by ourselves." 
 
 And she kept her word. When Koehler returned from 
 duty on the day in question, and, laden with presents, 
 came to offer his congratulations, she formally invited 
 him to supper, only stipulating that he should see that 
 there was " something decent " to drink. 
 
 At supper-time the table was decked out with all the 
 delicacies that Hanna's cooking was able to produce. 
 She was also most fascinatingly amiable, giving him her 
 hand to kiss every few minutes. 
 
 ** What a pity that my old man is not here ! " she 
 remarked several times. 
 
 Koehler nodded — and both were glad that he was 
 not there. 
 
 " Are we not awfully comfortable to-day } " said 
 Hanna, rubbing her hands in sheer enjoyment after she 
 had cleared the table. " If you don't mind, I'll just go 
 
 197 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 and tidy myself up a little bit." With that she turned 
 towards the door. 
 
 " Pray don't trouble to lace up your feelings ! " replied 
 Koehler. 
 
 Hanna threw him a mock-offended glance, and dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 Koehler meanwhile sat down in the comfortable 
 arm-chair by the fire, lazily puffing his cigar-smoke up to 
 the red-shaded hanging-lamp, so that it veiled the ruby 
 light with softly-curling clouds. Yes, it really was cosy 
 to-day ! This delightful stillness, the luxurious warmth 
 of the fire, the comfortable sensation of having a good 
 meal inside you, and the pleasant anticipation of Hanna 
 — all this conduced towards a contented, peaceful frame 
 of mind. His wine-tinted imagination led him to 
 thoughts of Hanna, showed her to him as she slipped 
 out of her frock, in order to don an easy tea-gown, from 
 which her white shoulders shone forth. Koehler was 
 so wrapped in his dreams that he hardly saw Hanna 
 as she noiselessly stole into the room, clad in a cream- 
 coloured matinee. Pleasantly surprised, he rose from 
 his chair. 
 
 " Do you Hke me in this .? " she said with a coquet- 
 tish glance, turning herself swiftly round so that the hem 
 of her wrapper disclosed her ankles and a glimpse of blue 
 silk stockings. 
 
 " Charming ! " declared Koehler, looking at her with 
 languishing eyes. 
 
 She tip-toed under the lamp in her little patent-leather 
 shoes, and turned down the light. 
 
 " There, now we shall be still more cosy," she said, 
 198 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 going to the sofa, and sinking down upon it in a most 
 unconstrained attitude. Then she raised her arms, so 
 that the lace-trimmed sleeves fell away from them, and 
 buried them under the knot of her jet-black hair. Her 
 right foot hung over the edge of the sofa, the patent- 
 leather shoe fell to the ground, and in the coquettish 
 movement which the foot made to pick it up, the ankle 
 again became visible, as well as the form of the leg 
 beneath the thin dress-material. 
 
 " Now tell me something ! " she said softly to Koehler, 
 who stood beside her, his burning glances encompassing 
 her form. She had never seemed so beautiful, so charming 
 to him, so desirable, as in the unconstrainedness of this 
 attitude. 
 
 " What shall I talk to you about ? " he replied. 
 
 " Tell me something sweet ! " she breathed with a 
 bewitching glance of her eyes, and took hold of the arm 
 of the chair, as if to draw it still nearer to her. 
 
 Koehler was silent. He looked at Hanna with an 
 ardent smile. Then he slowly bent down to her, and 
 seized her hand. 
 
 " You want to hear something sweet ? " he whispered, 
 as Hanna returned the pressure of his hand. " I love you, 
 Hanna." 
 
 She laid her other arm about his neck, drawing his 
 head down so close to her that Koehler felt her warm 
 breath, as she whispered : 
 
 " In what way do you love me, Benno ? " 
 
 "In what way } So that I want to kiss you." 
 
 " Kiss me — and love me for always } " 
 
 "Yes, Hanna!" 
 
 199 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 " And always remain true to me, Benno ? " With this 
 she pressed his hand to her throbbing bosom. 
 
 " Yes, Hanna, for ever ! " he breathed back. 
 
 " And never forsake me ? " 
 
 " Never ! " 
 
 " Then kiss me." 
 
 And he kissed her with a passion which took 
 stormy possession of his whole being, stifling every other 
 
 emotion. 
 
 ***** 
 
 The next morning Vogel received the triumphant 
 telegram. He returned the same evening. 
 
 Koehler was not a little surprised next day to find 
 Hanna in quite a different mood from what he had 
 expected. He received a hesitating " Come in ! " in 
 answer to his knock, and saw Hanna sitting quite dejected 
 at the window. She hardly returned his kiss, and looked 
 at him reproachfully. 
 
 " What is the matter with you, Hanna } " asked 
 Koehler, surprised. 
 
 " What should be the matter with me ? " she replied, 
 with a shrug of her shoulders, still gazing mournfully out 
 of the window. 
 
 " But something is wrong with you ! Are you ill } " 
 
 " 111 ? Oh, no ! " she answered, with a dismal 
 laugh. 
 
 " But do speak ! What has happened " 
 
 Hanna looked at him questioningly for a long time, 
 then, turning her face slowly away, she hid it in both 
 hands, sobbing bitterly. 
 
 Koehler was utterly at a loss. Only after he had 
 200 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 entreated Hanna to tell him the reason of her sorrow did 
 he get her to whisper through her sobs : 
 
 " I have done what was wrong — and it is your fault." 
 
 Koehler was almost struck dumb. 
 
 " My fault, Hanna ? " he stammered. 
 
 " The fault - of both of us — that we should have 
 deceived one who has not deserved such a thing." 
 
 Koehler did not know what to answer. He sank 
 down on the sofa and remained for some time immersed 
 in gloomy thought ; then he went over to Hanna at the 
 window, and sought to still her weeping. But she 
 declined to be comforted. She put aside all his 
 excuses, until finally he gave up saying anything more 
 to her. 
 
 " But what, in God's name, is to come of the whole 
 thing .? " he sighed in despair. 
 
 " I shall tell him everything." 
 
 Koehler grew pale. 
 
 " Hanna," he cried excitedly, " that would be folly ! " 
 
 " Call it what you like — I shall tell him all the same. 
 I shall know no peace until he has forgiven me." 
 
 " Hanna ! " again pleaded Koehler. " If you do not 
 want to make me unhappy " 
 
 " I must tell him— or I shall die ! " 
 
 Koehler stood a moment, staring helplessly at Hanna, 
 then, with a shrug of the shoulders, he left her. 
 
 This was a hard blow to him, such as he had not 
 expected as the close of the romantic love-idyll of the 
 evening before. In despair, he paced his room and 
 reflected upon his position. But he saw no way out of 
 it. That Hanna would carry out her intention and 
 
 201 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 confess their fault to Vogel seemed to him quite certain 
 after her insane behaviour. And what would happen 
 then ? 
 
 He did not go near Hanna again that day. When, 
 towards evening, he thought of making a last attempt tg 
 bring her to reason, Vogel's man replied in answer to 
 Koehler's question : 
 
 " The gracious lady is ill, and can receive nobody." 
 
 He was therefore obliged to await the inevitable. 
 He did not see the Captain either. He only heard him 
 come home from the station shortly after midnight, and 
 go into Hanna's bedroom. They met first in the 
 barrack-yard next morning. 
 
 Koehler saw at once from Vogel's almost rude greet- 
 ing that his suppositions were correct, and when towards 
 mid-day he went home, Vogel's orderly immediately 
 came to meet him with the message — 
 
 " The Captain would like to speak to the lieutenant 
 at once." 
 
 With beating heart Koehler knocked at Vogel's door. 
 The Captain bowed formally, and began in official, icy 
 tones : 
 
 " I have asked you to come here, in order to get 
 from you an explanation of what has taken place during 
 my absence." 
 
 '* I can do nothing more," replied Koehler, " than to 
 express my liveliest regret for my behaviour." 
 
 " And with that I suppose you consider the matter 
 settled.?" 
 
 " By no means. Captain. I am quite ready to give 
 you satisfaction." 
 
 202 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 " I do not require satisfaction, sir. The only person 
 whose honour has suffered, is yourself, since you have 
 abused the confiding trust of a comrade in the vilest 
 manner. The satisfaction which you are ready to give 
 does not belong to me, but to her, upon whom you have 
 brought misfortune by your unscrupulous conduct. Or 
 is it possible that you should expect me to keep this 
 person for another day in my house ? " 
 
 " I am prepared to provide for her future. Captain." 
 
 " That has nothing to do with me. You must do as 
 you think best. I have only asked you here in order to 
 express my indignation at the manner in which you 
 have trodden my unbounded confidence under foot. 
 Shame upon you, Herr von Koehler ! That is all I have 
 to say ! " 
 
 Vogel bowed coldly, Koehler did the same and went 
 away. 
 
 The comrades rejoiced, when they heard the news 
 from their respective orderlies, that Koehler had been 
 turned out of the "Vogel house," bag and baggage, 
 and had taken the Captain's mistress with him. He had 
 been caught on the twig so carefully limed for others by 
 the master of the " Vogel house " before now, and many 
 were the scornful and mocking smiles that poor Koehler 
 had to endure. 
 
 Koehler found new lodgings close to the barracks, 
 while Hanna went to live at the other end of the town, 
 so as to be able to receive her lover's visits undisturbed. 
 These were certainly not very frequent, for since circum- 
 stances had forced her to become entirely his own, 
 
 203 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 Koehler felt an increasing aversion from her. He had 
 also to solve the problem whence he was to find the 
 money for Hanna's expenses. She had no idea of econ- 
 omy, but made demands which Koehler had no possible 
 means of meeting. For some time past he had not been 
 able to make his allowance do even for himself, for his 
 creditors and the tradespeople who had provided Hanna's 
 costly presents were becoming restive. The unspeakable 
 terror which he felt of a complaint being made against 
 him at headquarters, drove him to devote all his ready 
 money to the gradual discharge of his debts, so that for 
 the whole remainder of the month he was at his wit's end. 
 A small loan, at usurious interest, from the " Regimental 
 Jew" was speedily swallowed up by his vindictive 
 creditors, and those who received nothing, continually 
 threatened to expose him at headquarters. 
 
 In his desperate need he turned to Schill. 
 
 Schill was greatly surprised, when, after a long silence, 
 he suddenly received a letter from his former friend, 
 and that a registered one. The correspondence between 
 the two had entirely ceased with time. Koehler's con- 
 science always smote him when he thought of his friend. 
 Schill on the other hand, when his advice about the 
 "Vogel house" had been unavailing, and even seemed 
 to give offence, had virtually given Koehler up. He 
 therefore hailed his friend's letter with special pleasure. 
 The contents, however, awoke mixed feelings in his 
 breast. Schill was certainly pleased to learn from 
 Koehler that he had left the "Vogel house," but the 
 urgent request for money that followed upon this news 
 surprised him. His long-felt apprehension that Koehler 
 
 204 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 had taken to evil courses seemed now to be justified, and 
 this grieved him deeply ; the money question itself was 
 quite a minor consideration. Schill's circumstances 
 permitted him to come to Koehler's assistance. Since, 
 after a short preparation, he had obtained a brilliant 
 position in an arms manufactory, he had been beyond 
 all pecuniary cares, and was even able to maintain his 
 old mother in something like luxury. His former pay as 
 first lieutenant had been slender indeed as compared to 
 his present salary. He accordingly put the requested 
 thousand marks in an envelope, together with the 
 following lines. 
 
 "My dear Friend, 
 
 " Most willingly do I comply with your request as 
 regards the sum of money, which you will find enclosed 
 in this letter. Do not take it amiss, however, if I tell you 
 that I would rather give you back your promise as to its 
 repayment. In my opinion you are not at present in a 
 position to undertake the discharge of such a debt, and it 
 will be much better for you just to repay me at your own 
 convenience. 
 
 " It is with much pleasure that I hear of your resolve to 
 change your abode. I did not refer to this subject in my 
 last letter, which I am sorry you never answered, because 
 I saw, only too well, that you and I should not agree 
 about it. Experience will have shown you — let us hope 
 without serious detriment to yourself — that Vogel is not 
 a man with whom an honourable officer can associate 
 on intimate terms, except at the risk of having his 
 confidence rudely betrayed one fine day. I therefore 
 congratulate you on your decision. 
 
 205 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 "Things are well with me — better than I should 
 
 once have dared to hope. I find unbounded happiness 
 
 and pleasure in my all-engrossing profession, a happiness 
 
 and pleasure which I only wish I could share with you. 
 
 *' When are you coming to see me ? 
 
 " With a hearty hand-shake, 
 
 " Always yours, 
 
 Ferdinand Schill." 
 
 Koehler read this letter with mixed feelings. The 
 passage about Vogel was especially painful to him. He 
 could not conscientiously reproach the Captain with any- 
 thing, and it lay heavy upon his conscience that any 
 question of misplaced confidence was just the reverse of 
 what Schill had pictured to himself. Anyhow — Schill 
 had sent the money. That was the great thing and 
 freed Koehler from his most pressing anxieties. He 
 hastened to despatch numerous postal-orders, and, by 
 the evening, had only a few gold pieces left which 
 he took to Hanna with a heavy heart. It vexed him 
 to think that this young person, who had no right to 
 aspire to anything special in life, should claim fifty marks 
 a week for housekeeping money, while his mother kept 
 the whole family on half as much, and did the household 
 work herself, for which Hanna kept a servant. But 
 he dared not raise any objections, as, on most of his 
 visits she lamented afresh all that she had given up for 
 his sake. Swallowing his indignation therefore he paid 
 in silence. 
 
 Matters went on like this for awhile, but very soon it 
 was the old story : debt upon debt, and no money tq 
 
 206 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 pay with. For by far the greater portion of Koehler's 
 pay went into Hanna's pocket, while he himself 
 had to obtain any necessaries on credit. His mess 
 bill also began to mount up seriously, so that Preusse, 
 reluctant to notify Koehler to the Colonel as an "un- 
 punctual payer," more than once dipped into his own 
 pocket to defray these accounts. 
 
 It was impossible that this state of things should 
 continue. Questions of money apart, Koehler had become 
 so weary of his mistress that it was quite an effort to him 
 to visit her. There was one particular reason for this. 
 A suspicion had been awakened in him, that the whole 
 recent course of affairs had been brought about by some 
 manoeuvre on Vogel's part, and that he and Hanna had 
 been deliberately brought together. 
 
 The news of Vogel's engagement, which followed 
 close upon his separation from Hanna, gave Koehler 
 involuntary cause for thought. The more Koehler 
 turned this over in his mind the more probable did it 
 seem to him, and his anger against Vogel as well as 
 against Hanna increased daily. 
 
 After long consideration he resolved to inform Hanna 
 by letter of the breaking-off of their connection. She 
 could take it as she liked — it was all the same to him — 
 for any sentimentality in the face of his parlous situation 
 seemed sheer lunacy. Major Preusse also, to whom he 
 confessed his position, gave him some good advice, and 
 therefore he sent his orderly one day with a carefully- 
 composed letter to Hanna's lodgings. 
 
 The orderly had hardly got back when Hanna herself 
 appeared. She was in a state of great excitement, her 
 
 207 
 
Dear Fatherlaiid 
 
 appearance was untidy, in her hand was the communica- 
 tion she had just received. 
 
 " So that's the kind of man you are ! " was the only 
 greeting she vouchsafed to Koehler. " You seem to have 
 a short memory." 
 
 " Oh, pray don't make a scene, Hanna ! " answered 
 Koehler, who was painfully agitated. " What we have 
 to say to each other — or rather what I have already 
 written to you — can be settled quite quietly." 
 
 " I suppose I may say a word as well as you ! " cried 
 Hanna pettishly. 
 
 " I see no sense in your upsetting yourself still more," 
 returned Koehler quietly. " I have informed you of the 
 essential facts." 
 
 "Then I will also inform you of an essential fact. 
 You have every expectation of becoming a father ! " 
 
 Koehler stood as if thunderstruck. He was not 
 prepared for this. While he was struggling for words 
 Hanna looked at him with a cynical smile, saying : 
 
 " You see now that you triumphed a little too soon. 
 Besides, dear friend, you gave me a promise, which I am 
 going to make you keep, as I have not deserved that 
 you should throw me on the streets." 
 
 " What promise ? " stammered Koehler. 
 
 Hanna smiled at him triumphantly. 
 
 " I remember that someone once promised that he 
 would never forsake me. Do you know who that was } " 
 
 " Slut ! " snarled Koehler, in a furious wrath. 
 
 " Do you regret it now } I'm so sorry ! " said Hanna 
 sharply. " You should have thought of that before." 
 
 " Get out of this, you hussy ! " cried Koehler, over- 
 208 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 powered by passion at the artifices of the woman. And 
 as Hanna made no movement to leave the room, he 
 shouted again threateningly : 
 
 " Get out, or I will have you thrown out ! " 
 
 "Oh, I am going," said Hanna calmly, turning 
 towards the door. " I shall find out how to get myself 
 righted." And, with an abrupt " Good-bye ! " she 
 departed. 
 
 Koehler was beside himself. He suddenly saw 
 through the whole tissue of lust and deceit by means of 
 which they now thought to entangle him, and to thrust 
 upon him obligations, the fulfilment of which were the 
 responsibility of another. 
 
 He remembered Schill's warnings, and all his com- 
 rades' hints which he had regarded as slanders ; every- 
 thing now seemed clear to him, and he resolved to defend 
 himself to the best of his ability. 
 
 The claims which were sent to him next day by 
 a lawyer, on Hanna's behalf, showed him that he was the 
 victim of a plot, against which he was powerless to stand, 
 if he did not want the affair to go before a court of 
 justice. Whether he would actually let it come to this 
 he had, for various reasons, not yet been able to make 
 up his mind. 
 
 Koehler's steadily-growing misunderstanding with 
 Captain Baer had not failed to influence his naturally 
 gentle and weak character. Since the rumours which 
 were current about Koehler had come to Baer's ears, the 
 latter thought himself perfectly justified in making the 
 life of his frivolous lieutenant as unbearable as possible. 
 
 209 ' P 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 He was well aware that the Colonel looked on with 
 satisfaction. Hardly a day passed therefore without 
 some difficulty between the two. The means which 
 Baer employed to get his subaltern continually into 
 fresh difficulties seemed quite inexhaustible, so that if 
 Koehler profited by one mistake to avoid some future 
 error, he was certain to be pronounced wrong on every 
 occasion. The consequence was that he never succeeded 
 in pleasing the Captain. 
 
 The non-commissioned officers and men of troop 
 No I. had, at first, been on Koehler's side. But when the 
 latter, irritated by the Captain's constant fault-finding, 
 began to vent his anger upon his subordinates, their 
 sympathy gradually changed to indifference, which 
 deepened into resentment when he habitually visited 
 those whose neglect was accountable for an outburst on 
 Baer's part, with abuse, and sometimes even with personal 
 violence. Things came to such a pass that Baer never 
 punished any man who was reported by Koehler for 
 neglect of duty. He always fastened the blame upon 
 the officer, accusing him of setting a bad personal 
 example, if not indeed of exercising a really unfavourable 
 influence upon the men. So that it almost came to be 
 the rule that Baer should make his lieutenant answerable 
 in the most unreasonable fashion for every trifle, whilst 
 the men grew accustomed to see Koehler censured for 
 their own carelessness, and to get themselves out of their 
 worst scrapes with merely a growl of reproof. 
 
 The training of the recruits was now nearly at an 
 end, and the grand final inspection was close at hand. 
 In every squadron " high pressure " was again the order 
 
 210 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 of the day, and even those gentlemen who at other 
 times of the year did not trouble themselves much about 
 the service were all day long at barracks, busying them- 
 selves with the approaching review. 
 
 Baer's temper was, as usual at such times, simply 
 unbearable. The pettifogger appeared at every moment, 
 and the whole troop groaned beneath the exaggerated 
 demands of its Captain. 
 
 A few days before the review Koehler reported two 
 lance-corporals, who had been guilty of a breach of dis- 
 cipline almost amounting to a refusal to obey orders. 
 
 Baer was furious, as he wished to lay the blame as 
 usual upon Koehler s " personal conduct." He gave the 
 two corporals three hours extra drill, ordering Koehler 
 to superintend it, " so that he might, through his 
 presence, have an opportunity of regaining the men's 
 respect, lost to him by so regrettable an incident" 
 
 Koehler boiled over with indignation when the ser- 
 geant brought him the message, couched in these words, 
 and he made up his mind to make his " presence " so 
 felt that both men, whose transgression he was to be 
 forced to expiate in his own person, should recover their 
 " lost respect " by means of a little extra work. 
 
 The punishment drill was fixed for the afternoon. The 
 two corporals appeared in full uniform. Koehler began 
 by making them " trot " at the double five times round 
 the exercise-yard. When at last he allowed them to 
 halt, the men could hardly stand upright. He shouted 
 " Change arms ! " Then — " On guard ! " at which they 
 had to hold out their swords at arm's length straight in 
 front of them. In this position they were supposed to 
 
 211 p 2 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 " get their breath." But almost as soon as they extended 
 their arms, they seemed incapable of sustaining the 
 position, and while Koehler, who stood by with his own 
 sword drawn, motioned the ever-sinking sword-points up 
 again, one of the corporals let his arm fall to his side. 
 Koehler roared at him, and he came to position again, 
 only to let his arm drop once more, with an insolent air 
 of suppressed rage. 
 
 " Arm up ! " bellowed Koehler, irritated beyond 
 endurance by the corporal's manner. The man did not 
 move, but only looked Koehler impudently in the face, 
 meantime stiffening his arm when the officer attempted 
 to force it up. At this a gust of passion swept over 
 Koehler. " Arm up ! " he cried once more, and when 
 the corporal did not stir from his position, he struck him 
 in the face with his drawn sword, so that the man fell to 
 the ground covered with blood. 
 
 The sight of the prostrate soldier had the effect of a 
 stream of cold water upon the officer's excited senses, 
 and a distinct and terrible consciousness of the inevitable 
 consequences of such an act fell upon him like a blow. 
 He went icy cold, and as he stooped to lift the wounded 
 man turned so giddy that he nearly sank down beside 
 him. The corporal lay motionless. Koehler ordered 
 his comrade to fetch an assistant from the infirmary, and 
 when he saw them coming out of the barracks he left the 
 spot and hastened to his lodgings. 
 
 Next morning the news ran like wildfire through 
 barracks and town that Lieutenant von Koehler had shot 
 himself with a No. yi carbine. Heavy responsibilities, 
 fear of being court-martialled for ill-treatment of a sub- 
 
 212 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 ordinate, and finally a breach of promise action brought by 
 Hanna Vogel were alleged as reasons for the rash deed. 
 
 By Major Preusse's directions Major von Koehler 
 was not informed of his son's fate in the usual way, by 
 telegram. Preusse himself, in his capacity of old comrade 
 and school friend, undertook the long journey to the 
 dead man's father, so as to break the news in as gentle 
 a manner as possible. 
 
 On leaving the train at the old Major's place of 
 abode, Preusse met Schill. As he was reading in the 
 paper that very morning about the severe ill-treatment 
 by a Lieutenant von Koehler of two lance-corporals in a 
 dragoon regiment, he had received a letter from Benno 
 himself. He opened it with anxious foreboding and 
 burst into tears when he finished it. The letter ran as 
 follows : — 
 
 "My dear Schill, 
 
 " You will know the fate that has overtaken me 
 before this letter reaches you. But as the only friend I 
 have ever had in my life, I want you to learn from my 
 own lips why I have chosen to leave that life by my own 
 act. 
 
 *' I am filled with nothing but hatred, dissension, 
 rebellion and bitterness. Those who have disgusted me 
 with life have also taken away my nerve. I am powerless 
 to cope with the vulgarity with which I am surrounded, 
 and each day of my life for a long time past has been a 
 curse to me. All my hopes, my dreams, lie broken at 
 my feet — through my own fault. Why did I not, like 
 
 213 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 you, try to obtain a means of existence in which a human 
 being can be — and remain — himself ? Why was I too 
 dazzled to follow your example, instead of riveting myself 
 to a profession which has choked in me all good instincts, 
 all pleasure in work, all strength of will, and love of my 
 Fatherland, and only brought me pain, bitterness and 
 moral death ? I did not heed your warning, because I 
 was deceived by others, and had lost, in the struggle 
 with their baseness, all power of remaining master of 
 myself. But neither the consciousness of a frivolous life, 
 nor the false step which has made a criminal of me, are 
 responsible for my death. I yield to the superior power 
 of those who have broken my life, and also robbed me 
 of the strength to build up a new one in which I could 
 have atoned for the sins of the past. Forgive me for all 
 this, my dearest Schill, and do not mourn for me as lost, 
 for that I was already. Comfort all who have loved me. 
 My parents and my sisters will be comforted best by 
 you. Farewell ! All happiness in your future life. Do 
 not forget yours faithfully in death, 
 
 "Benno von Koehler." 
 
 Such was Koehler's farewell greeting. 
 
 Preusse and Schill had exchanged the firm hand-shake 
 of old friends, but their mutual grief for their comrade, 
 and the knowledge of the heavy task before them, 
 prevented them from giving full expression to their 
 pleasure. After Schill had given the Major Benno's 
 letter to read, they agreed that the former should go by 
 himself to break the sad news to Koehler's family. 
 Preusse therefore took the next train back to his 
 
 214 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 garrison, while Schill proceeded to carry out his 
 melancholy duty. 
 
 He sat for a long time with the broken-hearted old 
 man, who, neither by words nor tears, betrayed the grief 
 that was in his mind ; who, even in pain, did not forget 
 he was a soldier — not even in the cruellest pain that 
 could have befallen a father. Only when they shook 
 hands at parting, did the Major's eyes glisten with tears ; 
 it seemed to him that with the departure of Benno's 
 friend went also the very last of his son. 
 
 An apoplectic stroke during the night put a termination 
 to his life. 
 
 The tolling church bell, borne upon a howling wind, 
 sounded one melancholy April day in the Koehlers' 
 native town. Icy showers mixed with sleet, drove in 
 sheets through the roads and streets ; heavy, grey-black, 
 lowering clouds swept over the sky, and the sun, sad as 
 a weeping eye, broke at rare intervals through a milky- 
 white veil of mist, and shone upon the numerous mourners 
 who were assembling before the Major's house. A host 
 of people had come to render the last homage to the poor, 
 well-beloved Major and his son. 
 
 Benno's body, which his friend Schill had had brought 
 home at his own expense, lay in a leaden coffin beside 
 that of his father. Both bodies were to be interred in the 
 Koehlers' family vault. 
 
 Besides an escort of infantry in honour of Lieutenant 
 von Koehler, the regimental band from the garrison, 
 with their instruments, stood in front of the house. 
 Almost the whole of the officers corps was present, 
 
 215 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 together with many civilians, who, without having been 
 personally acquainted with the major, were sincerely 
 grieved at his tragic end and at that of his son. Countless 
 wreaths and flowers had been sent to the house, and now 
 covered the canopy of the funeral car. 
 
 At the widow's request the funeral ceremony took 
 place in the house. The chaplain of the garrison 
 pronounced the last blessing over the dead, and ex- 
 pressed in touching words the sympathy which had been 
 universally called forth by the sad fate of the two officers. 
 The widow, leaning on Schill's arm, stood close to the 
 coffins. In her deep mourning, she looked as homely as 
 of yore. Not a tear, not a muscle of the pale face 
 gave evidence of the anguish which wrung her heart ; 
 patiently she endured this final blow with the same 
 resignation with which she had met all her other troubles, 
 during a life in which the cup of sorrow had been presented 
 to her in every possible form. 
 
 Near her stood the unhappy Lilly. Matured by 
 suffering, she resembled her mother in her mute resigna- 
 tion. Grave, almost gloomy, was the pretty face, in 
 which the tender lines of girlhood had given place to an 
 expression of deep melancholy. 
 
 Edith stood in the background. She was ashamed to 
 shed the tears to which she would so gladly have given 
 vent, for she realized keenly, for the first time, that 
 she had dearly loved both those who were now to be 
 carried to their last rest. She looked very miserable, her 
 slender form, tall in its sombre garments, and her harsh 
 features had assumed an almost defiant expression. 
 
 As the coffins were borne from the house, the escort 
 216 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 presented arms, and the band played a chorale, while the 
 mourners took their places behind the funeral car. In 
 front of this, the major's two orders — the second of which 
 he had received as a consolation on his retirement — were 
 carried on a velvet cushion. The coffins, adorned with 
 the helmets and swords of the deceased, were almost 
 buried in flowers and palms. 
 
 A damp cold wind greeted them in the cemetery 
 spraying icy rain into the faces of the funeral procession. 
 Sparkling drops, as if Nature were weeping over the 
 dead, hung on trees and flowers, grass and tombstones. 
 And when the wind carried down into the town the crack 
 of the triple salute, mingled with the chords of the chorale, 
 many a listener said : " Now they are laid in the cold 
 earth." 
 
 The widow who, sitting at her open window, heard the 
 threefold echo of the shots, broke into bitter weeping. 
 
 The mourners went silently away, but a sharp, snarl- 
 ing " Change arms ! " sounded, and to the rousing strains 
 of a march the infantry moved ofif to the barracks. 
 
 They had been carried out in pomp and splendour, 
 and Dame Sorrow stepped into the father's place at 
 home. It is true that she was no stranger in the 
 Koehlers' house, but now she made her entrance to 
 depart no more until Happiness should turn her out. 
 But when would Happiness come } And whence "i 
 
 Schill had not yet gone away, and was helping Frau 
 Koehler to put the family affairs in order. He was 
 firmly resolved not to go before he saw her and her 
 daughters comfortably settled one way or another. 
 
 217 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 After long hesitation, Edith, at his suggestion, had 
 applied for a teacher's post at the girls' school in the 
 town, which was immediately conferred upon her out 
 of respect for her father. As she forthwith brought 
 home an advance on her salary, one pressing care was 
 lifted from her mother's shoulders. Contrary to all 
 Frau Koehler's expectations, her deceased husband's 
 pension for the month of May had not been paid, 
 and a petition written by Schill at her request was 
 disposed of in the following terms "... and in view of 
 the fact that Major a. D. von Koehler has already departed 
 this life, we cannot grant the above-mentioned petition 
 addressed to us for the continuation of a pension due for 
 life only." 
 
 Edith's situation was some compensation to Frau von 
 Koehler for the reduction of her income through the loss 
 of her husband's pension. She was certainly not more 
 free from care than she had been in the past, but 
 she was used to battle with difficulties, and to get the 
 better of these had been until now the only pleasure of 
 her life. 
 
 After much deliberation, Lilly determined to accept 
 an invitation to visit Schill's mother. Her last doubts 
 were dispelled by a most friendly letter from the old 
 lady, who was not only glad of company for her lonely 
 days, but anxious above all to do a kindness to the 
 sorely-tried Koehler family. 
 
 It was true that it made Lilly's heart bleed to forsake 
 her own mother, so bowed down with grief, but she 
 yearned to break off all connection with the town where 
 her presence only awoke pity in others, and which held 
 
 2i8 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 so many sad memories for herself. Therefore one day 
 she departed, accompanied by Schill. 
 
 Lilly soon felt happy with Schill's old mother. 
 The two women understood one another perfectly ; 
 and while Frau Schill took the tenderest care of 
 her foster-daughter, Lilly tried to anticipate every wish 
 of her hostess. In the first place she undertook 
 the housekeeping, that she might once more have an 
 occupation, and displayed the virtues of a little house- 
 wife to such a degree that the Schills grew more en- 
 chanted with her every day. The dinners that she 
 cooked always earned undivided applause ; her careful 
 hand was to be recognised in everything. The tears 
 were ready to start to Frau Schill's eyes at the mere 
 thought of Lilly having to leave her some day. 
 
 Meantime Lilly herself had not begun to think of 
 her departure. The letters from her mother and Edith 
 were as cheerful as could be under the circumstances, 
 and she felt therefore that she could lead as purposeful 
 a life here as at home, where her presence would be a 
 heavy tax upon Edith's slender income. 
 
 Schill himself seemed to have no idea that he would 
 one day have to part with his " little sister," as he fondly 
 called Lilly. When, late in the afternoon, he left his 
 office for home, he hurried on purpose not to waste one 
 moment of his leisure, spent in Lilly's company. Their 
 love for Benno, and the consciousness that they had 
 both been awakened by bitter reality from many a dream 
 in the struggle for existence, created an involuntary bond 
 of union between the two, which from the very first 
 
 219 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 proved a mutual attraction. And as Lilly took an 
 immense pleasure in spending the whole evening helping 
 Schill with his homework, and so by degrees grew indis- 
 pensable to him also, a spiritual communion arose 
 between them, drawing them ever closer together. 
 
 Lilly, freed from the weight of her past in these 
 surroundings, began to feel a newly-awakened pleasure 
 in life. Now, her charms blossomed out into the full 
 beauty of ripe womanhood, which, chastened by sorrow, 
 began in the happiness of content to unfold like a rare 
 flower in the sunlight. Body and mind progressed in 
 unison, and the magic of her personality shone around 
 her like a halo. 
 
 Schill, too, had changed. In former days, when he 
 came home from the factory, tired and depressed, he 
 generally went for a short walk, then had supper with 
 his mother, and afterwards sat up over his books until far 
 into the night. At times he hardly opened his mouth, 
 so that his mother used to tease him, saying : 
 " Have you lost your tongue ? " 
 He was always quiet and grave, and it was quite a 
 whole year since he had laughed, but since Lilly's advent 
 his spirits had risen visibly. He sat for hours in the 
 evening chatting with her about all sorts of things, his 
 gravity changed into quiet, peaceful pleasure in existence, 
 and he was often so gay that his mother, shaking her 
 head, would say : 
 
 "My boy, my boy, something must be the matter 
 with you ! " 
 
 Upon which he would laugh still more heartily. 
 Lilly frequently accompanied her " little brother " 
 
 220 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 upon his daily walks. On Sundays they generally went 
 for longer expeditions, for Lilly, like Schill, was an 
 ardent lover of Nature, and in the free air of their 
 beautiful pine-woods they were more deeply and more 
 warmly penetrated with the beauty of life than if they 
 had been forced into the society of indifferent, common- 
 place people. On such days they wandered about at 
 random in the country, heartily amused at some primi- 
 tive meal in a village inn. Often they would linger for 
 hours in some lovely woodland spot. 
 
 So the time passed and the summer drew to an end. 
 The relations between "little brother and little sister" 
 became more intimate day by day, to the great joy of 
 Schill's mother. In the early days of September the 
 two went for another long excursion. They wandered 
 about the woods the whole of the afternoon, for the sun 
 shone delightfully warm, and it was quite beautiful 
 under the pine trees, so sheltered and so mysteriously 
 quiet. The wind strayed lazily through the tree-tops, 
 whose rustling sounded now like an alluring voice, now 
 like a melancholy song, now like a solemn prayer. 
 
 « ife « « « 
 
 The sun had already begun to turn red, and was 
 hardly visible above the borders of the forest, when 
 Lilly and Schill reached their favourite spot. It was 
 at the top of a slope, in a gap at the edge of the wood, 
 and offered splendid views over hill and valley. The 
 wanderers sat down silently on the moss-covered seat 
 and enjoyed the magnificent spectacle of Nature. Below, 
 delicate cobwebs of evening mist encircled the weed- 
 grown pool like a shimmering girdle. Bog-grass shone 
 
 221 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 softly green through it, like dead-coloured silk through 
 a transparent fabric. Behind them the night already 
 gloomed through the pines ; boughs and twigs seemed 
 welded into a dark green mass, the edges of which the 
 setting sun just touched with a golden glimmer. In 
 the spaces between the hills, blue vapours stole out of 
 the valleys, melting to a hazy violet in the glow 
 upon the summits. Solitary tree-giants stretched their 
 mighty dark-green tops out of the veiling mist, holding 
 themselves in sombre majesty above the vaporous fog. 
 As far as eye could reach the blue-grey masses of 
 mountains, which looked like side-scenes pushed one 
 behind another, grew fainter and more shadowy, until 
 the remotest ridge melted into the glimmer of the 
 sunset sky. 
 
 " When we see the world at our feet in this heavenly 
 calm," said Lilly softly, as if she did not wish to disturb 
 the sacred stillness of the forest, " we could almost fancy 
 that we were the only human beings in it" 
 
 " Let us think for once that we are," replied Schill. 
 
 "In that case much in our lives would have been 
 spared us." Lilly sighed deeply, and gazed with half- 
 closed eyes at the dazzling sunset. 
 
 " Do not let us complain any more about that, little 
 sister. Our past has taught us to seek our world for 
 ourselves — and tell me, is it not a much more beautiful 
 one than the world down there ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed." 
 
 " And in this world, which belongs only to us, we can 
 also be quite alone — if we like." 
 ^- " But that would be rather solitary," answered Lilly, 
 
 222 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 and shut her eyes, as if the blood-red glow of the sinking 
 sun hurt them. 
 
 " Solitary ? Just as solitary as now, for we are 
 thinking that we are alone. And is not that pleasant, 
 little sister ? " 
 
 " Heavenly ! " whispered Lilly. 
 
 " Then it must always be so." 
 
 Lilly looked down in silence, her chin resting on 
 her hand. 
 
 " Would you like it to be always so 1 " asked Schill 
 after a short silence, looking up at Lilly. 
 
 " Yes ! " answered Lilly almost inaudibly. 
 
 Schill took her hand. 
 
 " We only need to wish it, Lilly," he said. 
 
 She slowly turned her head and looked him 
 inquiringly in the eyes. 
 
 " Shall we wish it, Lilly ? " he whispered, and pressed 
 the hand which he was holding warmly clasped. 
 
 Lilly bent her head in silent assent, and Schill took 
 her joyfully to his arms. 
 
 223 
 
Chapter VIII 
 
 SMART in service ! " 
 Such was the motto of Lieutenant-Colonel 
 Preusse, who had been appointed to the 
 command of the regiment in the place of 
 Colonel von Held. For when one day His Excellency 
 the Commanding General had appeared like a bolt from 
 the blue in the barrack-yard, he had to have the 
 Colonel fetched out of bed to be present with him at the 
 field exercises for the day. After that, they had a short 
 explanation, and Held suddenly vanished from the scene. 
 His paladin Baer followed him a few weeks later. 
 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Preusse certainly acted up to his 
 motto in a very different manner from the Colonel. 
 Even to the smallest details, he immediately organized a 
 radical reform of the regiment and purged it from all the 
 elements of which he did not approve. He kept a 
 severe eye upon those gentlemen whom he had not yet 
 been able to catch napping, so that at the first possible 
 opportunity he might hurry them into the military 
 Tartarus of retirement. With all this he aimed strenu- 
 ously at stern conscientiousness, putting every personal 
 consideration on one side directly it infringed in the 
 least upon impartial justice. 
 
 Captain Vogel was also among the victims. When 
 it was rumoured one day that Vogel had broken off his 
 engagement, and, persuaded by Hanna, had again taken 
 possession of the "Vogel house" with her, Preusse 
 played the spy and cleansed the nest of its decoy-birds, 
 
 224 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 who now — so gossip says — in the guise of a happy 
 married couple, still carry on their lodging-house pro- 
 fession in a small watering-place. 
 
 Several other officers who were also on the black list 
 did all that was possible to avoid giving Preusse the 
 smallest excuse to get rid of them. 
 
 It soon became known throughout the army that 
 Preusse's dragoons had been transformed into a really 
 model corps. For the Lieutenant- Colonel was inde- 
 fatigably active in the service, and had already passed 
 the test of a highly successful inspection by His 
 Excellency. 
 
 The autumn manoeuvres were now drawing to an 
 end. The troops were already on the home-march, 
 which for most of them lasted several days. The " old 
 soldiers," at the point of being discharged, had never 
 marched so good-humouredly to the rhythm of the 
 songs, as now, when with each kilometer, the moment of 
 freedom came a little nearer. They were all in the most 
 cheerful mood, which found vent as often as they crossed 
 another division, or when, shrouded in a thick cloud of 
 dust, a troop of cavalry caught them up and rode past. 
 
 " Tin soldiers, pack-thread boys ! " the infantry 
 marching-columns shouted, when cuirassiers or hussars 
 passed by. " Kilometer-swine ! " was returned by the 
 horsemen, or " burrowing-moles ! " when the " ragged- 
 footed Indians " belonged to the engineers' corps. The 
 " volunteer " * doctor trotting at the rear had generally 
 
 * Of one yeax's service. 
 
 225 Q 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 to bear the last brunt of the repartee, and had to put up 
 with being hilariously called a " Moses-dragoon," " saw- 
 bones," or " plaster-box." Past and done with was the 
 camping out, with its icy-cold rainy nights, and the 
 stereotyped commissariat menus — barley-soup, " stick- 
 jaw with barrack hailstones," or " ammunition ; " peas and 
 sauerkraut, known as " clay and gun-wadding," or canned 
 food, of which the smell was quite enough, and which 
 from its pea-soup colour was termed " mixed paint," or 
 " gaiter-buttons and crocodile-bacon," when it consisted 
 of lentils and pickled pork. 
 
 Before the general manoeuvres, squadrons No. i and 
 No. 2 of Preusse's regiment had to be sent to fixed 
 quarters, as suffering from some infectious complaint, 
 and therefore unfit to take part in the work of the last 
 days. They were quartered in a village on the return- 
 route, and were to remain there until the end of the 
 quarantine, especially as they, themselves, were not 
 to come into contact with the rest of the regiment on 
 account of possible infection. It was intended to dis- 
 charge the reservists from this point, and, after the return 
 of the regiment, to replace them by substitutes from the 
 garrison. 
 
 The men of the two squadrons did not at all object to 
 the present arrangement. They led a very pleasant life 
 in their quarters ; except for the care of their horses, they 
 had hardly any duty, and were resting from the fatigue of 
 the past manoeuvres. The non-commissioned officers did 
 the same, as well as the officers ; both captains had gone 
 home until the conclusion of the manoeuvres, as they 
 expected neither a review, nor a visit from headquarters. 
 
 226 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 But should it happen that a prying superior should pay 
 them a visit, they had simply " gone a-hunting." 
 
 The reservists made no secret of their pleasurable 
 feelings at their anticipated release. Every evening, after 
 tattoo, the non-commissioned officer of the day found an 
 agreeable task in driving out the tipplers from the two 
 village inns. As soon as he appeared, they offered him 
 a " farewell drink " in the good old style. When at last, 
 with many kind words, he had persuaded them to go 
 away, they slunk into a side-street, and collected again to 
 continue their carouse behind curtained windows, as soon 
 as the non-commissioned officer had withdrawn to his 
 quarters. Old reserve-songs were then struck up once 
 more, and should a superior officer chance to pass by, he 
 heard nothing, and thought — 
 
 *' They are not to be blamed for being merry." 
 Baron von Scharf had thought of a special joke. He 
 bought from the man on whom he was quartered, ten 
 bottles of old home-grown wine, added a box of good 
 cigars, and proposed to summon the whole " punishment- 
 squad" to a solemn goose-feast at his quarters. The 
 feast was to be on the last day of the manoeuvres, as the 
 captains were expected back on the following evening. 
 As a souvenir of the time they had spent together in the 
 regiment, the Baron had ordered from the neighbouring 
 town, for each of his comrades, a reservist's riding-cane, 
 with monogram and a tassel of the regimental colours 
 attached. 
 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Preusse had got leave from the 
 General to absent himself from the last day of the 
 
 227 Q 2 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 manoeuvres, in order to pay a final visit to the detached 
 squadrons, before he went back to the garrison. One 
 morning, therefore, he covered on horseback close on fifty 
 kilometers, accompanied only by Sergeant Rickert. The 
 orderly was to remain with the baggage-wagons. Rickert 
 had been attached to the staff during the whole of the 
 manoeuvres, and had done the work of the regimental 
 clerk, who was on the sick-list, so excellently, that 
 Preusse could hardly do without him. 
 
 The day was hot. After a long night of ceaseless 
 rain, a real July sun streamed down upon roads cut up 
 by the heavy artillery, so that the hprsemen found it 
 hard riding. They trotted silently side by side, Preusse 
 sometimes making a curt observation that had just 
 occurred to him, and Rickert noting down the Lieutenant- 
 Colonel's orders as he went. 
 
 They had ridden fast the whole afternoon, and already 
 more than two-thirds of the journey lay behind them 
 when Rickert's mare suddenly went lame. The sergeant 
 got down and examined her shoes. The near hind shoe 
 had come off, and a nail had penetrated the hoof. It 
 was impossible to ride her farther without the risk of 
 laming her seriously, and Rickert, with a heavy heart, 
 had to lead his mare for the remainder of the way. 
 
 " Never mind, Rickert ! " said Preusse. " I'm a little 
 done myself. I'll go at a walk up to quarters." 
 
 Rickert pulled a discontented face. 
 
 "It's the first time that anything of the sort ever 
 happened to me, Colonel," he muttered into his white 
 moustache ; " that a cavalryman like me should have to 
 march beside my mount." 
 
 228 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 " To think such dreadful things should happen 
 to you in your old age ! " said Preusse, laughing, and 
 looking compassionately down at the sergeant, who in 
 the sweat of his brow was tramping through the dust, 
 looking gloomily ahead. 
 
 For some time they marched on in silence. Twilight 
 had already fallen and a slight drizzle had begun. 
 Rickert automatically put one foot in front of the other, 
 and the tired mare hobbled behind him at such a 
 distance that the reins were quite taut, and she had to 
 stretch out her neck to avoid trotting, in order to keep 
 up with her master. 
 
 Rickert's feet hurt him so much in his heavy riding 
 boots, which were never intended for walking, that he 
 could only get along on his toes, and hobbled almost 
 as badly as his mare. He panted all the time, and 
 kept wiping the sweat from his brow with his red 
 handkerchief. 
 
 The Lieutenant-Colonel was sorry for the old man. 
 " Poor fellow," he thought, " he has his years of service 
 behind him just as I have, and hasn't found them any 
 easier ! Come here, Rickert," he said, pulling up his 
 horse, " get up on my bay ; my back aches, I should 
 like to walk a bit." He stood up in his stirrups and 
 began to dismount. 
 
 " Excuse me, sir ! " said Rickert shyly. " That won't 
 do. If anyone were to see such a thing, he would think, 
 * there's a well-disciplined non-commissioned officer ! * " 
 
 Preusse laughed and got down. 
 
 " But if it's an order, you will do it, won't you } " 
 
 "Then I have no choice," replied Rickert with a 
 229 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 bewildered smile, as he caught the bridle and wearily 
 mounted his officer's bay. He led his own mare beside 
 him. 
 
 Preusse strode along by his side with the elastic step 
 of a sturdy orderly, and the rider had to spur his horse 
 in order to keep up with him. 
 
 Meantime it had become quite dark. The rain 
 became heavier, and they could hardly see a yard in 
 front of them. At last towards eleven o'clock they 
 reached the village where the ist and 2nd squadrons 
 had their quarters. Preusse mc anted again, and re- 
 mained in the street, while Rickert went to the inn, 
 where lights were still burning, to get quarters, or to 
 inquire the address of the local authorities, in order to 
 find a lodging. 
 
 Just then the feast of the "punishment squad" at 
 Baron von Scharf's was drawing to an end. The wine had 
 been a great success, and when it had run short, the 
 Baron had gone down to the cellar and fetched up a 
 fresh supply, while his landlord was already snoring in 
 his feather-bed. This second little supply vanished 
 down the thirsty men's throats, and changed their 
 hitherto jolly humour into wild excitement. Those 
 who had not followed their host's example — who had 
 long ago collapsed in a corner of the room — descended 
 the steep steps of the house with infinite difficulty, 
 intending to betake themselves to their quarters. There 
 were, however, only one or two of them who were fit to 
 walk. They staggered about the street hopelessly drunk, 
 shouting disconnected bars of the songs sung earlier in 
 the evening. 
 
 230 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 Preusse, who was still waiting on horseback in the 
 street, heard two men approaching, bawling incoherently, 
 and guessed from the style of their ditty that they were 
 dragoons. He rode on a few steps, as far as the melan- 
 choly light of the street-lamp, and drew up somewhat to 
 one side, so that he could recognise the men as they 
 came into the light. They advanced until they were 
 just beneath the lantern, when the Lieutenant-Colonel 
 rode up, and in a loud voice commanded them to halt. 
 The first of the two dragoons slipped as quick as lightning 
 into a side street, while the other, taking no notice of 
 Preusse's order, went yelling on his way. Preusse urged 
 on his horse, and drew up straight in front of the 
 dragoon, thus blocking the latter's road. " I order you 
 to halt ! " cried Preusse again. " Do you not see that 
 you have your colonel before you ? " 
 
 The dragoon stopped one moment, then went on with 
 a malicious and besotted laugh. When Preusse once more 
 tried to bar his way, he struck the officer's horse on the 
 chest with his riding-whip, so that it reared up. Preusse 
 was not prepared for this movement on the horse's 
 part ; he had the reins tight, and the bay overbalanced 
 and fell backwards, carrying his rider with him. Rickert 
 came out just at the right moment to seize the dragoon 
 as he was running away, and dragged him, fighting tooth 
 and nail, to the lantern, in order to identify him. Preusse 
 had meantime picked himself up, and was leaning, with 
 a violent pain in his right arm, against the wall of a 
 house. The bay stood by, trembling. A passing 
 sergeant came up to the group inquisitively, and was not 
 a little astonished to perceive his commanding officer. 
 
 231 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 He soon grasped the situation and, leading the horse by 
 his bridle, accompanied Preusse to his own quarters. 
 Rickert meanwhile took the dragoon to the guard-room, 
 which was in a shed conveniently near the street. 
 
 When, an hour later, Rickert left the stables, after 
 feeding and watering his mare, he betook himself to the 
 Lieutenant- Colonel. He found him in the company of 
 an army doctor, who was attending to the compound 
 fracture of his arm. 
 
 " Well, Rickert, what do you say to this } " he cried, 
 smiling in his pain at the sergeant as he came in. 
 
 " Confounded brutes ! " snarled Rickert furiously. 
 " However, the rascal is behind lock and key, Colonel. 
 He is dead drunk ! " 
 
 " If I had known that, I should have let him off ! " 
 Preusse said to himself thoughtfully. " Who was it, 
 Rickert ? " 
 
 " The dragoon Grube from the ist Squadron — already 
 once punished for personal violence ! " 
 
 Grube's case excited attention and interest far beyond 
 the limits of the garrison. It also proved disastrous to 
 the Captain of his squadron, because Baer's successor in 
 the Service was now obliged to follow him into private 
 life. Preusse had reported him to the General for 
 repeated "absence from quarters under grave circum- 
 stances." Whereupon his Excellency recommended the 
 undisciplined commander of the squadron to send in his 
 papers. He was seen for the last time at the court- 
 martial on Grube, where he had been summoned as 
 witness, and then disappeared on leave, until the 
 
 232 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 weekly Service paper should one day announce his 
 resignation. 
 
 Grube himself, " for gross violation of respect," was 
 sentenced to prison for eighteen months. All the efforts 
 of his counsel had not been able to secure a lighter 
 verdict, nor the fact that he had committed the deed 
 when in a state of absolute inebriety. Meanwhile Grube, 
 in spite of most strenuous advice from his counsel and 
 the hope of a shorter term of punishment, obstinately 
 refused to give up the name of the man with whom he 
 had been drinking that evening. He also stoutly denied 
 that it was trooper Weidner who had been in his com- 
 pany. Consequently the latter and the Baron von 
 Scharf came off with flying colours, and a few days after 
 the occurrence were able to join in the general cry of 
 " Home we go ! " 
 
 Weidner went away immediately, but the Baron 
 allowed himself just one more funny little joke. He 
 hired a mediaeval-looking chariot with two coachmen on 
 the box, and thus made a round of farewell visits to his 
 superiors, who had shown him such " kind attentions." 
 Of course he was nowhere received, but left his visiting- 
 card, on which was inscribed : — 
 
 Joachim Ottokar Frederick Baron von Scharf, 
 
 Ex-trooper of dragoons and formerly a member 
 of the ^^ punishment squad'* 
 
 Lieutenant von Rauch received in a registered letter 
 233 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 a cabinet photograph, with an inscription and dedication 
 as follows : — 
 
 " Called out on October 3rd, 19CX). 
 Deserted on the same date. 
 Caught on January 5th, 1901, 
 Discharged on October, ist, 1903." 
 
 Gallwitz found this dedication so "idiotically- 
 original " that he inserted the portrait into his " album 
 of handsome men." 
 
 234 
 
Chapter IX. 
 
 LIEUTENANT-COLONEL PREUSSE re- 
 covered but slowly from his injury. The 
 fractured bones had healed badly through 
 want of skill on the part of the stafF-surgeon 
 who had been called in that night, and it had been 
 necessary, in order to prevent the arm from becoming 
 permanently useless, to break and reset it. The com- 
 plete restoration of the injured limb seemed hardly to 
 be hoped for in consequence of the first unfortunate 
 blunder. 
 
 The instant that Preusse was pronounced "cured" 
 by his doctor he packed up his best uniform and set 
 out on a journey. He had had an invitation to the 
 wedding of his old comrade Schill with Frau Lilly 
 Weiss, n^e Fraulein Koehler. Lilly had obtained a legal 
 divorce from her husband, and had given her "little 
 brother " her hand in marriage. Everyone warmly sym- 
 pathised with the glad change in the unhappy woman's 
 circumstances, and a large number of congratulations and 
 good wishes of all kinds poured in upon the wedding-day. 
 For obvious reasons, the wedding was not to take place 
 at Lilly's home but at Schill's, and only a few of their 
 most intimate relatives and friends were present. Of these, 
 Frau von Koehler alone was missing. Mortally wounded 
 both in body and soul through the heavy blows of Fate, 
 her life was slowly ebbing out, for an acute aggravation 
 of her old heart complaint had for months past kept her 
 in bed. The mother's absence sensibly depressed the 
 
 235 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 spirits of everyone, and when Lilly on her wedding- 
 morning received her mother's good-wishes, written in a 
 tremulous hand, she broke down, weeping bitterly. 
 
 Schill no longer held his old position in the factory. 
 Thanks to his indefatigable industry and intelligence he 
 had been made head of the testing department of the 
 firm, in which post he enjoyed not only an independent 
 sphere of activity, but also a high salary. Shortly before 
 his marriage the firm had bought, as the official residence 
 of their new manager, a charming villa, so Schill's worldly 
 affairs now prospered. 
 
 A few days after their marriage the young couple 
 visited Frau von Koehler and the graves of their beloved 
 dead, on which occasion Lilly also laid a wreath upon 
 Stanzchen's grave, as if in quiet reconciliation. 
 
 After First-lieutenant Weiss's disappearance all trace 
 of him had been lost. The regiment had instituted no 
 search for him or his whereabouts — only his dismissal 
 was announced in the weekly Service Gazette shortly after 
 his flight. 
 
 All the more zealously, however, was he pursued 
 by irate creditors. The bank which had advanced him 
 10,000 marks, on the strength of a deed, bearing 
 Stanzchen's forged signature, was specially indefatig- 
 able in its efforts to trace Weiss's abode. Advertise- 
 ments and police enquiries remained perfectly fruitless ; 
 the fugitive was supposed to have gone abroad a long 
 time ago. 
 
 But Weiss had not managed to get abroad. He had 
 first gone to Berlin and there found shelter with his 
 mistress. The latter had received a monthly allowance 
 
 236 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 of two hundred marks after Weiss's marriage with Lilly, 
 and allowed herself to be persuaded, when one day 
 the first lieutenant himself appeared with empty pockets 
 instead of her money, that sooner or later he had expec- 
 tations of a large legacy. So they were poorly housed 
 in two rooms on the third floor of a Berlin lodging- 
 house. The lovers took up their " profession " again, 
 earning therewith a sufficiency, Weiss undertaking the 
 part of a swell, and, while she received visits from gen- 
 tlemen, he lounged about the streets, or squandered the 
 money which he received every evening. His appear- 
 ance, to which he knew how to impart a certain style, 
 won for him not only the entry to the better restaurants, 
 but also the acquaintance of other loafers and epicures. 
 They looked kindly upon the jovial soi-disant " Austrian 
 Count," and gradually smoothed the way for him into 
 various clubs. Here, however, there was no credit, but 
 only card-playing, and after Weiss had refilled his 
 pockets by means of a sum borrowed from the head- 
 waiter, he was considered a very lucky player. 
 
 The improvement in his pecuniary circumstances 
 soon allowed him to move into an apartment ** appro- 
 priate to his rank." His mistress, of whom he had soon 
 grown weary, had no idea of her quondam lover's 
 address, and was inconsolable ; while Weiss opened 
 heart and purse in quick succession to many other 
 good-looking women, of whom he found no lack in the 
 dancing-halls and among the shop-girls. They all liked 
 him, the smart, rich " Nazi," who, with his cropped head 
 and clean-shaven face, really looked like a " sporting 
 Count " when he appeared with his eye-glass and top hat. 
 
 237 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 Weiss's plan was to win a respectable capital, and 
 then to leave his fatherland for good and all, and to 
 create for himself a new existence in America. There- 
 fore every evening he was first at the card-table of a 
 club to which he had the entry, and the last to leave. 
 His luck astounded his fellow-gamblers. He hardly 
 ever lost, and had already completely " cleaned out " 
 more than one old hand, while the number of I.O.U.'s, 
 which he put away every evening in his letter-case, was 
 considerable. The Count was certainly good-humoured, 
 for if a debtor could not immediately discharge his debts 
 of honour, Nazi tapped him on the shoulder, saying, in a 
 friendly way : 
 
 " I am not in a hurry — there's plenty of time." 
 If the loser, surprised at his leniency, stammered out 
 a few words of thanks, he would add, in a languid 
 manner : 
 
 " Pray don't make any fuss about it, old man." 
 Weiss's coffers became full, and he was glad of it. 
 For since one day in the Cafe Bauer he had been 
 idly turning over the Fliegenden^ and discovered an 
 excellent portrait of himself, accompanied by a police 
 advertisement, he had felt rather uncomfortable. He 
 said to himself that of course no one could possibly 
 recognize him on account of his skilfully transformed 
 appearance, yet the vision of the Public Prosecutor with 
 arms outstretched towards him began to haunt his 
 dreams, and every time the bell rang it went through 
 him like a flash of lightning. 
 
 He could not continue thus. But his coffers were 
 not yet full enough, and to fill them quickly a few 
 
 238 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 small expedients were necessary. It was a fact that 
 the Count developed a new run of luck at play, and his 
 losses now almost touched vanishing point. Now and 
 then he lost a small sum with a magnanimous smile in 
 order to be able to win a much larger amount immedi- 
 ately afterwards. 
 
 The circle of players became gradually smaller and 
 smaller. No one ventured to play with " Nazi," as a loss 
 was a dead certainty ; so the man with " the devil's own 
 luck " often found himself alone in a club chair in some 
 corner of the smoking-room, sipping his champagne, or, 
 for form's sake, reading a sporting paper. The number 
 of his debtors was still considerable. Should he succeed 
 in collecting his outstanding debts, he might leave this 
 place, which he had made too hot to hold him, and start 
 afresh in the New World. He therefore took one debtor 
 after another aside, reminded him of the long-overdue 
 I.O.U., and mentioned a date for payment. 
 
 " It is time, old boy," he said to each ; " Nazi must 
 have his money." 
 
 One day several new guests were introduced who took 
 part in the play during the evening. Warned of Nazi's 
 incredible luck, at first they ostentatiously declined to 
 play with the " Count," but finally allowed themselves to 
 join in his game. 
 
 Nazi quietly triumphed. 
 
 " This is luck," he thought to himself. " Now I 
 shall pull it off," for he hoped in a single evening to win 
 from the newcomers as much as his debtors were with- 
 holding from him. So he primed himself with " Dutch 
 courage," and arranged the play for high stakes. He 
 
 239 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 did not go far. In the middle of the game, which nearly 
 all the members of the club were following with intense 
 interest, one of the new-comers rose, introduced himself 
 to the terrified Count as a detective, and, showing a 
 warrant, requested him " to come along without giving 
 trouble." 
 
 The Public Prosecutor was as happy as a king at 
 having caught in the person of the Hungarian Count 
 not only a card-sharper, but also the long-wanted first- 
 lieutenant of dragoons. This was the close of Weiss's 
 career. 
 
 240 
 
Chapter X. 
 
 ERNST GRUBE had worked out his punish- 
 ment. 
 It was a lovely April day when, in the 
 early morning, he crossed the threshold of 
 the prison gates, behind which, separated from his fellow- 
 creatures and from the world, he had wasted eighteen 
 months in solitary confinement. The mental torture 
 through which he had passed during that time had left 
 its impress upon his worn, melancholy features, and had 
 added years to his apparent age. 
 
 Was he dreaming, or was it true, that now his longed- 
 for liberty was his own again, that he was breathing the 
 soft air of spring-time } That he was looking the smiling 
 sun in the face once more, after having seen for long 
 months only its faint reflection in the musty atmosphere 
 of an abode where the refuse of humanity expiated 
 behind iron and stone the guilt of human frailty where, 
 forced to forget a future life in the necessity of enduring 
 the present one, the last spark of youthful blood was 
 extinguished in one's veins } Sense of honour, pride, 
 and respectability — all were gone. It was as a man 
 branded for life that he returned among his fellows, 
 to bear the contempt of long years as penalty for having 
 forgotten the duty of a moment. 
 
 Grube stood still at the edge of the nearest field. 
 His eyes, unaccustomed to the bright light, involuntarily 
 closed before the rays of the dazzling morning sun, as 
 he looked up to where a twittering lark soared skywards, 
 
 241 R 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 seeming to him a something unknown, never seen before, 
 a phenomenon of Nature. Then he saw the yellow-green 
 tips of the young corn tremble as if shivering in the wind, 
 and the early flowers unfolding their starry blossoms. 
 He gazed about him as one in a dream. " You are free ! " 
 his mind clamoured joyously ; and a thrill of pure 
 delight ran through his whole being. " Free, free, free ! " 
 He could have shouted it to every tree, to every stone, and 
 when with indifferent mien a farm-labourer passed by, it 
 seemed strange to Grube that he did not offer his hand 
 nor called to him : "I rejoice with you that you are free ! " 
 
 But suddenly another imperious voice silenced this 
 inward exultation. " Why should he rejoice with you — 
 a criminal } Must he not despise you } " thought Grube 
 after the labourer had gone by. 
 
 He stood still, thinking, and the more he gave rein 
 to the thought the heavier did it weigh upon him. All 
 his pleasure, all his just-renewed sensations of warmth 
 and joy in life were stifled by this newly-awakened 
 certainty. "You are an outcast in the eyes of men. 
 When they see you they will nudge each other and 
 whisper : " Look, he has been in prison ! " Fathers and 
 mothers will warn their children against you, and will 
 hold you up to them as a warning of how guilt is 
 punished, and the sinner dishonoured and outlawed for 
 the rest of his life. 
 
 A deep sadness came over him. A gloomy picture 
 of a joyless future rose suddenly before him, a future 
 which now hardly seemed worth living, since it must 
 daily, hourly remind him : " All those among whom you 
 live despise and abhor you." 
 
 242 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 He thought of his home. What would the people 
 say when he passed through the village street ? Would 
 they not show him the door when he, an erstwhile 
 member of the community, now dishonoured, once more 
 sought admission among them ? And what did home 
 look like now, after four and a half years' absence ? 
 
 Disastrous news had already reached him. His 
 brother William was dead. Marie Siebert had long since 
 taken up with another lover. On his return home his 
 friend Weidner had acquainted him with the saddest of 
 tidings about his sister — what more dreadful could be in 
 store for him ? 
 
 William's loss hit him the hardest. The poor fellow 
 had counted the hours to the return of his brother, and 
 just when he almost fancied they were to be reunited, he 
 had learned the verdict of the court-martial. His frantic 
 grief laid him low with a violent fever, from which he 
 never recovered ; a few days after the news, he succumbed 
 to his lung complaint. 
 
 Grube walked on, absorbed in his gloomy thoughts. 
 In order to get to the street leading to the station, he 
 had taken a road at the back of the town. He shrank 
 from the more crowded thoroughfares, for he feared every 
 look, feeling that it might wound him still more deeply, 
 as even the mere thought of other people had already 
 done. He no longer saw Nature clad in her smiling and 
 vernal joy — he was only conscious of an almost physical 
 pain, which weighed upon his senses with paralysing 
 power. 
 
 Grube reached the station, and took a ticket to the 
 243 R 2 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 town nearest to his native village, the same town from 
 which, years ago, he had set out on the fateful journey to 
 embark upon his new career in life. 
 
 It was late evening when he arrived. He had 
 purposely chosen the train, so as to avoid crossing the 
 village by daylight. 
 
 Slowly he walked down the familiar country road. 
 The moon was in its last quarter, and afforded but 
 scanty light, so that he could hardly distinguish the 
 fields and meadows on either side of the road ; only the 
 mill-stream shone softly in the valley and showed the way 
 to the village. Here and there a lingering remnant of 
 snow gleamed above the dark, ploughed-land, like a 
 small glistening island, or strips of bright green young 
 crops marked the edges of the wayside. The air was 
 balmy, and a timorous breeze bore down a warmly 
 caressing breath from the plains above. 
 
 Grube walked on as one in a dream, staring before 
 him, lost in contemplation of his own tall shadow, which 
 ran at his feet in the waning light of the horned moon. 
 Out of the dark night stole, like floating pictures, the 
 past, the present, the future, hurrying along in confused 
 panorama, now melting together, now separating, throw- 
 ing vivid reflections mingled with dark shadows across his 
 mind. 
 
 Grube stood still, clasping his forehead. He felt the 
 cold sweat upon it. Slowly he raised his head, and 
 gazed into the dark. He seemed to see a young man 
 coming to meet him with nimble steps, in whose 
 features he thought he recognised his own of years gone 
 by — those fresh, almost boyish features had been his, 
 
 244 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 when, long ago, he had passed by this way for the last 
 time on his journey to the town. Nearer and nearer 
 came the youth. When he was close enough to see the 
 man advancing towards him, his face paled with sudden 
 fear, his eyes dilated into a look of intolerable anguish 
 — and the apparition suddenly melted into the shadows 
 of the night. 
 
 Grube struggled to become master of the distracting 
 thoughts that coursed through his brain. He quickened 
 his pace, and soon saw the first light of his native village 
 shhie through the darkness. 
 
 Everything was quiet in the High Street. The dim 
 old lantern at the Burgomaster's house was burning as 
 of yore ; the broken pane, which turned towards the 
 street, was still unmended. A dog barked at the footfall 
 in the night, and the sleepy watchman, just stumbling on 
 his round with pike and horn, took no further heed of 
 him than of a stranger. 
 
 Grube stopped before Weidner's house. Looking 
 timidly round to make sure that he was unobserved, he 
 softly whistled the accustomed signal, with which he had 
 been wont to call his friend to the window. For a long 
 time no one appeared, but at last the curtain was drawn 
 and a head became visible. Grube drew nearer to the 
 window. 
 
 " Man ! " softly exclaimed Weidner, with wide-opened 
 eyes. " Is it you, Grube .? " 
 
 " Myself," said Grube's deep voice. 
 
 " Good God ! Where did you come from } " 
 
 " Where should I come from .-* Out of prison ! " 
 
 The window was slowly closed, and a moment later 
 245 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 Weidner appeared at the door. The comrades silently 
 clasped hands. Then, still silent, they went to Grube's 
 home. Only when they stood at the entrance to the 
 house, did Weidner put a question or two to Grube, who 
 returned short, almost abrupt answers. Alarmed by 
 men's voices, Sophie came to the door, but as soon as 
 she became aware of her brother's presence, with a loud 
 cry as though she had seen a ghost, she fled from the 
 room through the opposite entrance. 
 
 Grube crossed the threshold with lagging steps. He 
 looked around him, slowly examining the walls, the 
 ceiling, the comers, the furniture. He drew the back of 
 his hand across his eyes, sank down in the old armchair, 
 and gazed moodily at the floor. 
 
 Weidner sat down at the other end of the room and 
 took his tobacco-pouch out of his pocket. But he spoke 
 no word. He felt that he had so many questions in his 
 mind, he did not know where to begin. He therefore 
 deliberately lighted his pipe, and stared straight in front 
 of him. 
 
 At last Grube slowly looked up. His glance fell 
 upon the coloured portrait of the Emperor. It was still 
 hanging there, crowned with the same oak-wreath 
 with which he had borne it into the inn on the day 
 of his farewell-feast. Two faded leaves lay upon the 
 wooden frame, as though they had already rested there 
 for a long time. 
 
 Grube arose and walked to the picture. He looked 
 gloomily up at it for a while, then stretched out his arm 
 and lifted it down from the nail. He tore the oak- wreath 
 from the frame, crushed it like crackling paper in his 
 
 246 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 hand, and cast the remains under the stove-bench ; he 
 was just proceeding to destroy the portrait with one 
 blow of his fist, when Weidner sprang out of his corner 
 and caught him by the arm. 
 
 " Stop, friend ! " he cried. 
 
 Grube dropped his arm slowly and the two men stood 
 looking each other in the eyes. 
 
 " He never did you any harm ! " exclaimed Weidner, 
 and with that he took the picture out of his friend's 
 hand and placed it on the ground. Grube allowed him 
 to do as he pleased. 
 
 " Who said that he never did me any harm .'* " 
 
 " I say so ! " replied Weidner, springing quickly from 
 his chair. 
 
 " Oh, of course, if ^^^^ say so ! " Grube answered, with 
 a half-suppressed, half-sneering laugh. " I am a Social 
 Democrat, and the sooner you know it the better." He 
 took hold of the picture again. 
 
 " What has the picture to do with your being a red 
 republican ? " returned Weidner excitedly. " The man 
 can't help it, and knows nothing about how such as we 
 get treated. Hang the picture up again." 
 
 " Knows nothing about it ! " said Grube bitterly. 
 ** Doesn't he though ! As if I hadn't read about it 
 myself!" 
 
 " What have you read ! " asked Weidner. 
 
 " That he doesn't wish to know anything about such 
 as we ! " replied Grube gloomily and angrily. " I wrote 
 to him just what had happened to us from prison, and 
 also begged for a reduction of the sentence, and do you 
 know what they answered me ? That he would not. And 
 
 247 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 so with all the rest, he would not trouble himself about 
 any of it." 
 
 Weidner gazed questioningly into Grube's eyes. He 
 was silent for a while, then, apparently quite calm again, 
 he sat down upon his comer-chair, saying : — 
 
 " Don't believe it, Ernst. I tell you again, he knows 
 nothing about it — they tell him nothing ; they tell him 
 what is nice and pretty, but what is bad they keep 
 to themselves, because it is their own fault that it is so. 
 But I'll have nothing done to him up there ! " he cried 
 hotly. " He means to be good to all of us, and therefore 
 I hold him dear. Hang up the picture ! " 
 
 Grube did not stir. 
 
 " I tell you, if we are to remain good friends hang up 
 that picture ! " Weidner cried again loudly and threaten- 
 ingly. 
 
 Grube obeyed in silence. He lifted the picture on 
 to its nail again. 
 
 "No offence, Ernst," Weidner said kindly, holding 
 out his hand. He then wished him good-night, and 
 went away. Grube put out the lamp, and lay down on 
 the stove-bench to sleep. 
 
 Summer was well advanced before Grube, so far as 
 the time of year would allow, could get through the most 
 urgently necessary work on hand. 
 
 It was by no means an easy task to compass. Brother 
 William had not been able to devote himself to field 
 labour for a long time past, and the land ^had not even 
 been ploughed since his death. The few cattle had been 
 tended by Weidner's care. The cows stood lean and 
 
 248 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 hungry in their stalls, the provision of fodder was at an 
 end, and if Grube sought to beg a neighbour to help him 
 out with food for the cattle, his answer was generally a 
 contemptuous shrug of the shoulders. 
 
 Grube had turned his sister out of doors only a few 
 days after his arrival. During his absence she had 
 become the light-o'-love of the place, and the rumour of 
 her wantonness still nightly attracted youths from the 
 neighbouring villages, who retired disappointed when 
 they learned that her brother had sent Sophie about her 
 business as soon as he had reached home. 
 
 So Grube laboured from early morn to late evening, 
 hardly permitting himself a short hour of repose when, 
 at midday, the sun's rays were scorchingly hot, and the 
 neighbouring workers all sought a shady spot in which 
 to eat their dinners. 
 
 But however hard he might work, he found neither 
 rest nor peace. A painful burden weighed ever harder 
 and heavier upon his mind, nipping in the bud every 
 impulse towards joy in life, or liberty. And if, after the 
 heat of the day, he ever ventured into the village inn, the 
 drinkers there laid their heads together whispering, and 
 hardly troubled to return his salute. He was everywhere 
 shunned as if he had been a devil, and the village children 
 took to their heels when he walked down the street. 
 
 He saw his whole life crushed under foot. He grew 
 gloomier and more reserved day by day. The slightest 
 opposition aroused his anger, and even Weidner himself 
 hardly dared to look up his comrade any longer, fearing 
 the wild outbursts of passion which seized upon Grube 
 at the least word of contradiction. Grube was therefore 
 
 249 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 gradually left quite to himself, hardly exchanging a word 
 with anyone from week's end to week's end — only the 
 old watch-dog remained faithful to him, following at his 
 master's heels up hill and down dale. 
 
 One midsummer evening, on returning from his work 
 in the fields, Grube found a letter from the headquarters 
 of the district. He listlessly opened it, and stared 
 horrified at the contents — it was an order to join the 
 army for a month's autumn manoeuvres. 
 
 The news came as an utter surprise to Grube. He 
 had certainly been aware that he would be in the reserve 
 after his compulsory service, but he had not anticipated 
 being called out this year, at any rate. 
 
 In a furious rage he flung the letter on the ground, 
 and rushed about the room in the greatest excitement. 
 All the bitter feelings against the Service, that seemed 
 to have gradually died down in him, but which were 
 really only changed into more deeply-rooted hatred, 
 broke out again, and let loose a storm of the wildest 
 agitation, which vented itself in the most ferocious 
 oaths and curses against the military order. For this 
 present summons seemed to Grube in his blind, reck- 
 less rage to involve the utter downfall of all that he 
 had yet hoped to retrieve from the misfortunes of the 
 past. 
 
 But there was no help for it ! He would have of his 
 own accord to obey this summons to the ruin which now 
 seemed inevitable. He recognised now with absolute 
 certainty that he was no longer sufficiently master 
 of himself to be able to put up even for a few days 
 
 250 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 with a life of blind self-denial and automatic subordina- 
 tion. The personality which, under the influence of 
 untoward circumstances and surroundings, he felt had 
 matured within him, was not that of a man who willingly 
 sacrifices himself to the caprice of others. A sterner 
 character, compact of an iron stubbornness, now dwelt 
 in him, which in the despairing defence of his moral 
 existence would recoil from no means that would promise 
 him — the bound victim of fate — mental freedom and the 
 right to a life worthy of a human being. 
 
 In his excitement Grube had failed to remark that 
 the sun had long sunk behind the forest, and that night 
 had set in. He now slowly mounted to his room to 
 retire to rest. As he lighted the candle, he noticed a 
 parcel wrapped in a linen cover lying in the corner of the 
 room. In his indifference to all his surroundings, he had 
 paid no attention to it until now. He went up to 
 it inquisitively, and saw lying on the floor a second long- 
 shaped parcel, which seemed to contain a sabre — then it 
 flashed upon him that after his arrest, the officials had 
 sent his extra kit to his home — here it still lay, 
 dust-covered, and forgotten. Grube undid the wrapper 
 sewn round his military tunic, hung the latter over the 
 back of a chair, and unpacked the sabre. For a long 
 time he looked at the glittering thing, weighed it in his 
 hand, then withdrew the blade from the sheath. Sud- 
 denly his eyes flamed, and with furious strokes he struck 
 blindly at the tunic, accompanying each slash with a 
 curse. Only when the garment fell in tatters from the 
 chair, did he pause in his mad rage. He took the blade 
 by either end, broke it like a piece of rotten wood, and 
 
 251 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 flung it into the corner, sending the tattered tunic after 
 it with a kick. 
 
 The sensation of having glutted his rage, seemed in 
 some measure to calm him. He almost felt a certain 
 relief from the oppressive dejection which had weighed 
 upon him, and with one last savage look threw himself 
 down upon the bed. 
 
 The news soon spread itself in the village, " Grube is 
 called out again ! " The peasants exchanged their con- 
 jectures with growing variance of opinions as to how he 
 would get out of his service, for no one seemed to doubt 
 that he would certainly shirk it. " He has nothing more 
 to lose," said some ; others thought that he would run 
 away some fine day, to disappear for ever. 
 
 Therefore, they were all astounded and wofully dis- 
 appointed in expectation of a sensation, when, on the 
 appointed morning, they saw Grube, bag in hand, stride 
 down the village street. His mien was gloomy, his look 
 resolved ; and when under a battery of many curious 
 eyes, he disappeared at the end of the village, the 
 
 peasants all shook their heads. 
 
 * * * ♦ 
 
 Grube had no easy position in his reserve-troop. 
 He was immediately greeted by Rickert, the sergeant 
 of the squadron, with the words, " So there you 
 are again ! " and threateningly looked at askance. 
 He had to bear many a joke about his past from 
 his former non-commissioned officers. Even his old 
 comrades, many of whom had been called out as well 
 as himself, did not spare him more or less harsh and 
 unpleasant comments. His superiors unfortunately 
 
 252 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 mistook his reserve and depression for disaffection and 
 refractoriness, and therefore overwhelmed him with 
 vigorous reproofs and abuse. Grube silently pocketed 
 every affront — but his anger grew, and when one day the 
 sergeant called him ** a dog who'd been licked already," 
 he had to set his teeth to prevent himself from striking 
 him in the face with his fist. 
 
 So each day brought him a fresh annoyance, and each 
 annoyance added a spark to the burning flame that raged 
 within him. Up till now he had been able to fight down 
 the temptation towards ungovernable fury, but only a 
 slight impetus was wanted to open the flood-gates and 
 let forth the whole power of his long-nourished, daily- 
 provoked and terrible hatred. 
 
 During the last days of the fourth week of service the 
 reservists wound up with carbine-practice at the regimental 
 shooting-range. The men called out to shoot stood in 
 front at the firing stages. The others were collected 
 some yards to the rear of the shooters, smoking their 
 pipes or whispering together in groups. Grube also took 
 his pipe out of his pocket, and asked a comrade for a 
 light. 
 
 " I'll have nothing to do with you ! " replied the man, 
 turning away, while the others applauded his words with 
 suppressed laughter. Grube made one step towards his 
 comrade, and caught hold of him. 
 
 " What was that you said } Say it again ! " he hissed 
 out through his teeth, and, trembling with wrath, shook 
 the man so that his carbine fell to the ground. 
 
 Just at this moment the commander of the regiment, 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Preusse, appeared on the scene. 
 
 253 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 The high bushes on either side of the path had concealed 
 him, so that he came upon the men unawares. 
 
 Grube let his victim go, and stood at attention with 
 the others. 
 
 " What is your name ? " asked Preusse harshly. 
 
 " Grube, sir," answered he sullenly. 
 
 Preusse looked sharply at him. Slowly he seemed to 
 recognise Grube, who was no stranger to him, and an 
 involuntary anger ran through him as he saw this man, 
 who once already had put his own life in danger, 
 now attacking one of his comrades in an unwarrantable 
 manner. 
 
 *'You do not seem to have learnt in prison how a 
 soldier should behave ! " he said in tones of sternest 
 rebuke. " I shall have to punish you ! " 
 
 At this moment the non-commissioned officer called 
 upon Grube to shoot. 
 
 Grube never knew how he got to the platform, 
 nor how he suddenly came to be standing in the ranks 
 of the shooters ; he only felt the loaded weapon in his 
 right hand, and a mad fury seemed to be splitting his 
 very brain. 
 
 A flash of fire struck Preusse in the face, and he sank 
 backwards to the earth. 
 
 254 
 
Chapter XL 
 
 ^ ■ A HE verdict of the court-martial against the 
 I reservist Ernst Grube condemned him to 
 
 ■ twenty years penal servitude. Excessive 
 
 W remorse had stretched the murderer of 
 
 Preusse on a bed of sickness. For weeks he wrestled 
 with a terrible nervous fever, which only the iron strength 
 of his constitution could prevent from being fatal. Very 
 slowly did he win back to strength, continually re- 
 prostrated by a fresh access of delirium. 
 
 The infirmary attendant was the only one who had 
 any idea that it was not merely the body of the unfor- 
 tunate man that was sick. He heard the confused cries, 
 the blood-curdling shrieks, which burst from the patient 
 at sight of the terrible phantasms of his fever ; he saw 
 how, as soon as he regained consciousness, he turned 
 himself to the wall in heartsick anguish ; and when one 
 evening Grube earnestly begged him to give him a 
 sufficient dose of the opiate with which his bodily pains 
 were alleviated, to release him from his sufferings of 
 soul as well, the good man was only sorry that he was 
 obliged to deny his request. 
 
 Three months after his murderous assault Grube was 
 taken between two armed soldiers to the district jail. 
 
 Stupefied through excess of mental pain he walked 
 like a broken-down old man between his escort, and 
 when, late in the evening, the iron-bound door of his 
 cell clanged behind him, he felt neither sorrow nor 
 heartache. A new life seemed to have opened out 
 
 255 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 before him, which stifled all consciousness of life, removed 
 him from the sphere of other men, and taught him the 
 meaning of life in death. 
 
 Grube lay down on the hard plank bed, and was 
 presently deep in merciful sleep. A ray of light as fine 
 as a hair, stole through a crack of the cell-door, fell upon 
 his closed eyes, aroused his sleeping consciousness, and 
 awoke the spirit of his dreams. 
 
 On a massive foundation of porphyry a tower reared 
 its proud head to the sky. The light of the setting sun 
 lit up its battlements with red-gold flames, and an eagle 
 took its soaring flight above. Millions of human beings, 
 clad in homely, dull-coloured garments, pressed round 
 the foot of the tower in a confused mass, lifting eyes full 
 of wistful longing to its gleaming summit. Steep stairs 
 led upwards, which seemed to bend beneath the weight 
 of the beings clambering up step by step ; some panting 
 painfully, others in wild haste, many storming up merrily, 
 while on their way they carelessly pushed down the 
 fellow-creatures who thronged about them, into the abyss 
 below. Right at the top, quite close to the battlements, 
 a dense crowd, clad in gold and silver armour, were 
 climbing the last steps, noisily greeting the eagle, 
 and never looking back at the mass of humanity who 
 would not — or could not — follow them. Higher and 
 higher, rose the glittering throng, while from the hum of 
 the people below came, louder and louder, voices of 
 warning. Now they were at the top. Their garments 
 were bathed in the golden light of the sun — then 
 all at once the tower began to totter, shrill outcries and 
 shrieks were heard, and with a fearful crash it split 
 
 256 
 
Dear Fatherland 
 
 asunder, burying all who were upon and around it 
 But the eagle, with terrified flutterings of its wings, 
 alighted upon the pedestal of the tower, whose foun- 
 dations still showed inviolate and undaunted amid the 
 ruins. 
 
 The ray of light that shone through the door of the 
 cell was suddenly extinguished — Grube awoke. Hardly 
 knowing where he was, he struck his forehead and rubbed 
 his dazed eyes. Suddenly he heard a sound from the 
 yard outside, as if soldiers were marching. 
 
 " Present arms ! " 
 
 " Relieve guard ! " 
 
 " No fresh orders. Countersign : Dear Fatherland." 
 
 257 
 
BY THE SAME WRITER 
 THE SUPPRESSED BOOK 
 
 LIFE IN A 
 GARRISON TOWN 
 
 (AUS EINER KLEINEN GARNISON) 
 
 BY 
 
 EX-LIEUTENANT BILSE 
 
 With a Portrait of the Author, Summary 
 of the Court-Martial, an Introduction by 
 ARNOLD WHITE, and a New Preface 
 written by the Author whilst in London 
 Crown 8vo., price 6s. 
 
 SOME PRESS OPINIONS 
 
 T/ie World. — "An indictment of a great system, the exposure of 
 gigantic evils, odious abuses, deadly moral and physical wrongs ; is 
 much more important than any novel destined to take its chance as 
 such with other novels." 
 
 Truth. — "The disgraceful exposures of the book were expressly 
 admitted to be true by the Minister of War in the Reichstag. 
 What the book will probably suggest to you is, that German 
 militarism is cutting its own throat, and will one day be hoist 
 with its own petard." 
 
 The Morning Post. — " The whole atmosphere is one of de- 
 bauchery, lying, eavesdropping, and blackmailing, and the only 
 characters that arouse respect are those identified before the 
 court-martial with the author himself, one brother officer, and 
 one non-commissioned officer." 
 
LIFE IN A GARRISON TOWN 
 
 SOME PRESS OPINIOT^S— continued. 
 
 Daily Chronicle. — " It has literary qualities quite apart from 
 its subject." 
 
 The Standard. — " Lieutenant Bilse has written down his own 
 experiences — obviously a young man of independence, who can 
 think for himself and draw his own conclusions, although he is 
 unable to avoid punishment for his temerity. His book is 
 worth reading, not so much as a novel, but as a treatise on 
 the defects of German militarism in every country when the 
 machine has become soulless," 
 
 The Outlook. — "Everything that is 'bad form' elsewhere is 
 a matter of every-day occurrence in a small garrison town in 
 Germany. . . . The first inference is that the German army 
 can no longer be very formidable as an engine of destruction. 
 . . . . The second inference is that militarism in Germany 
 cannot last very much longer." 
 
 Literary World. — "The story itself is a sordid narrative. 
 Tyranny, cowardice, petticoat government, drunkenness, gambling, 
 adultery, suicide — these are the outstanding characteristics." 
 
 Daily Graphic. — "His picture is of a regiment from which all 
 virtue and simplicity have disappeared. The typical German 
 officer, according to him, is a bibulous Lothario who lives 
 beyond his means and knocks his orderly about. • Of the manners 
 and customs of officers he says in effect what the schoolboy in 
 the story said of the manners and customs of the Polynesian 
 islands." 
 
 The Militayy Mail. — "It is a matter for congratulation that 
 an English edition of this book has been published, for it may 
 serve as a counteracting influence to the gradual Germanization of 
 our army, and if it does this Lieut. Bilse will unwittingly have 
 done the British nation a great service. It is probably the 
 most talked-of book of the moment." 
 
 JOHN LANE, LONDON AND NEW YORK 
 
NEW NOVELS 
 
 A New Paolo and Francesca : A Novel. 
 By ANN IE E. HOLDS WORTH. Crown 
 8vo., 6s. 
 
 *^* A new novel by the well-knowji Author of ^^Joaiina 
 T7'ail^ Spinster ^^ " The Years that the Locusts Have Eaten^'' etc. 
 
 Helen Alliston : A Novel. By the Author 
 of "EHzabeth's Children." Crown 8vo., 6s, 
 
 *^* // will be remembered that ^^ Elizabeth^ s Children^^ 
 was one of the most popular novels of last year. The Publisher 
 coiifidently p7'e diets an equal measure of success for " Hele7t 
 Alliston:' 
 
 Charms: A Novel. By the EARL OF 
 IDDESLEIGH. Crown 8vo., 6s, 
 
 * i^ Of Lord Iddesleigh's last novel^ Mr. A, T. Quiller- 
 Couch wrote comparing it to the novels of fane Austen : — 
 " ' Luck 0^ Lassendale ' and ' Mansfield Park ' stand as achieve- 
 ments upon widely distant planes, but it puzzles me how any 
 man who admires * Mansfield Park ' can treat * Luck <?' 
 Lassendale ' as a thing of no account^' 
 
 Sir Bevill : A Romance. By the REV. 
 CANON ARTHUR THYNNE. With 
 Seven Illustrations by J. LEY PETHY- 
 BRIDGE and a Portrait of Sir Bevill. 
 Crown 8vo., 6s, 
 
 *^* Sir Bevill Granville {or Gre?tville) was a grandson 
 of Sir Richard Grenvile, the Hero of Tennyson's " Revenge." 
 But in the West Country the fame of Sir Bevill is even greater 
 than that of his grandfather. He supported the King in the 
 Civil War^ and fell at the battle of Lansdowne in 1643. 
 Hawker^ in his " Footprints of Former Men,' calls him " the 
 Bayard of Old Cornwall^' and has written a stirring ballad 
 to his memory, " Sir Bevill — the Gate-Song of Stowed' Sir 
 BevilVs giant, Antony Payne, is one of the worthies of 
 the West. 
 
NEW NOVELS 
 
 The Specialist : A Novel. By A. M. IRVINE. 
 Crown 8vo.^ 6s, 
 
 *^* A story by a new author about life in a hydropathic 
 establishnent on the Continent. Not only are all the petty 
 bicke7-iitgs and smallmindedness of the patie7its most ainus- 
 ingly po7^trayed, but there is also a deep ajid serious interest 
 in the book. No more striking 7iovel in this vein has appeared 
 si7ice ^^ Ships that Pass i7i the Night. ^"^ 
 
 Helen of Troy, N.Y. : A Novel. By WIL- 
 FRID SCARBOROUGH JACKSON, 
 
 Author of "Nine Points of the Law." 
 Crown 8vo., 6s. 
 
 *^* Those who read ^'- Nine Poi7its of the Law ''^ will not 
 be S2cr prised to hear that Mr. fackson's 7iew ?iovel is as 
 amusi7ig as its predecessor a7id sparkles with witfro77i cover 
 to cover. 
 
 Constance West : A Novel. By E. R. 
 PUNSHON. Crown 8vo., 6s, 
 
 *^ A 710V el about life in the wilds of Canada. It tells 
 of a wo77ia7i's passionate jealousy a7id 7ilti77iate repe7itance^ 
 and is a re77iarkably clever character study. 
 
 Before the Crisis : A Novel. By F. B. 
 MOTT. Crown 8vo., 6^. 
 
 * ^ A tho7'Oughly exciti7ig ro7nance of the struggle between 
 the Northern a7id Southern States. The prophetic figure of 
 yoh7i Brow7i, 07ie of the characters in the book, looms in the 
 backgrou7id a7td tells upon the story. The book concerns itself 
 with the period i77imediately preceding that of Mr. Winston 
 ChurchilVs " The Crisis.'' 
 
NEW NOVELS 
 
 A Broken Rosary : A Novel. By EDWARD 
 PEPLE. Crown 8vo., 6s, 
 
 *^* A Roviance of Pa7'is durmg the Empire. The story 
 has been dramatised, and^ it is expected, will be produced 
 shortly iJi both London and New York Theatres. 
 
 The Manitoban : A Novel. By H. H. BASH- 
 FORD, Author of " Tommy Wideawake." 
 Crown 8vo., 6 v. 
 
 The Tyrants of North Hyben : A Novel. 
 By FRANK DILNOT. Crown 8vo., 6s. 
 
 Perronelle: A Novel. By VALENTINA 
 HAWTREY. Crown Bvo., 6s, 
 
 The Philanthropist : A Novel. By J. F. 
 CAUSTON, Author of " The Comedy of 
 a Suburban Chapel." Crown Svo., 6s. 
 
 WiDDicoMBE : A Romance of the Wessex 
 Country. By M. P. WILLCOCKS. 
 Crown Svo., 6s. 
 
 How Tyson Came Home: A Story of England 
 and America. By WILLIAM H. RIDE- 
 
 ING, Author of " A Little Upstart " and 
 "The Captured Cunarder." 6s. 
 
 Isabel Broderick : A Novel. By ALICE 
 JONES. Crown Svo., 6s. 
 
 The Fishers: A Novel. By J. HENRY 
 HARRIS. Crown Svo., 6s. 
 
ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTH THOUSAND 
 The 
 
 Cardinars SnufF-Box 
 
 By HENRY HARLAND 
 
 Author of " Comedies and Errors " and " Grey Roses " 
 Crown %vo.^ 6 J". 
 
 SOME PRESS OPINIONS 
 
 •' A book among a thousand." — Times. 
 
 •' A charming romance." — Spectator. 
 
 •' My admiration leaves me breathless." — Star. 
 
 "Wholly d.e^\^\.iv\:'— Saturday Reviruu 
 
 " Dainty and delicious." — Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 " Superlative." — Echo. 
 
 »' A work of an. ''—World. 
 
 " One of the prettiest love stories we have chanced upon for 
 some time." — Outlook. 
 
 " The most delightful book the Spring has yet brought." — Speaker. 
 
 •'Distinctly a book to be read." — Daily News. 
 
 •'One of the lightest and brightest of stories published for many 
 a long day." — Globe. 
 
 " A delightful story." — Sunday Sun. 
 
 •'A delightful story." — Daily Express. 
 
 •'Mr. Henry Harland's beautiful %ioiy.''— Vanity Fair. 
 
 •'Mr. Harland has given us a comedy ingenious in design and 
 felicitous in execution." — Alanchester Guardian. 
 
 "A story which can be read straight through with intense 
 pleasure. ' ' — Public. 
 
 "As charming a little comedy as we have read for many a long 
 day. . . . Every page of it is interesting." — Morning Post. 
 
 "A delicious little love idyll." — County Gentleman. 
 
 JOHN LANE, Publisher, LONDON & NEW YORK 
 
14 DAY USE 
 
 RETUKN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED 
 
 LOAN DEPT. 
 
 This book is due on the last date stamped below, or 
 
 on the date to which renewed. 
 
 Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. 
 
 ^^''^^Z 
 
 
 REC'U LD 
 
 
 APR 16 '65 -3 PM 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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 / 
 
 LD 2lA-60m-3,'65 
 (F2336sl0)476B 
 
 General L. 
 University of Ca. 
 Berkeley 
 
i 
 
 U.C. BERKELEY LIBRARIES 
 
 CD310512TE 
 
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