Presently
the old philosophy professor ransacked his pockets, produced an apple,
clicked his heels together in regulation fashion and, saluting his young
superior, (infinitely inferior in the civil social scale,) said: "Am I
permitted to offer you an apple, Herr Feldwebel?"
His ranking superior acknowledged the gift with curt military punctilio,
then added respectfully, "I thank you, Herr Privy Councilor."
In the afternoon a forced march of two miles brought me to the handsome
villa occupied by the foreign military attaches, where Major Langhorne,
the American expert, was again found in good health and spirits, and
particularly happy because in a couple of days he was again to see some
real fighting. The Great General Staff continues to give our military
attache every possible opportunity to see things for himself and give
Uncle Sam the benefit of the military lessons to be learned from the big
scrap, no matter which way it goes.
Today I again dropped in on the Great General Staff and found it not
only at home, but very much interested on discovering that I had no pass
to come or go or be there at that time. The wartime mind of Prussian
militarism is keen and right to the point. It saw not the chance of
getting publicity in America, but the certainty that other more
dangerous spies could come through the same way. By all the rules of the
war game, Prussian militarism would have been thoroughly justified in
treating me as a common spy in possession of vital military secrets, but
it courteously contented itself in insisting on plucking out the heart
of the journalistic mystery.
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