It is literally necessary for an American correspondent on this side of
the fence to eat his way to the firing line and back again, for the
German afield is as hospitable as the tented Arab, and, thanks to their
wonderful field telephone service, they "have you." The A.O.K. (Armee
Ober Kommando) telephones to the Corps Kommando that you are on the way,
the Corps Kommando relays the news to the Division Staff, the Division
Staff rings up the Regimental Commander, who 'phones the Battalion or
Battery Chief. To reach the firing line you have to run the gauntlet of
anywhere from three to six meals, and if you happen to be one of those
"amazing Americans" and insist on being shown to an orchestra seat in
the first trench, you will be sure to find some sort of a table spread
for you in the very shadow of death, for their habit of hospitality is
fireproof.
But while robbing war corresponding of all its old-time romance, the
German, gastronomic way has the great advantage of giving you the
maximum of information in the minimum of time and of letting you meet
the masters of modern warfare, the men who have done big things, under
ideal conditions, for over after-dinner coffee and cigars you can and
will--if you are an American--ask the most imprudent questions with the
certainty of getting a good-natured and courteous answer.
Von Emmich makes the most instant appeal to an American.
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