But the very perfection of the German military machine is its weak spot,
and on this, my second visit to the German Great Headquarters, I was
able to give the astonished authorities a personal demonstration as to
how any smooth-tongued stranger could turn up at even this "holy of
holies." The nocturnal trail led in a military train from Luxemburg over
Longwy to Longuyon, where at 3 o'clock in the morning I met an old
reader of THE NEW YORK TIMES, Herman Herzberger, a wealthy glove leather
manufacturer of Berlin, well known to the trade in New York and
Gloversville.
"What a coincidence," Mr. Herzberger remarked in good American. "I am
going to the front with my wife to see my 18-year-old son, who is in a
hospital at Vonziers. My son, who was in the high school, enlisted as a
volunteer, with practically the whole school, at the outbreak of the
war."
With "constant reader," I boarded a troop transport at Longuyon and
crawled on through the night to the front. It was a reserve battalion of
a Prussian infantry regiment of the line, and a little research work
produced the interesting discovery that it was composed of men who had
been wounded, were recovered, and going back for the second time. They
were delighted to have an American in their midst, and promptly made me
an honorary member. They had no idea where they were going, but eagerly
hoped "they would be back in the trenches by evening.
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