Four Weeks in the Trenches | Page 2

me a day later calling
me to the colors.
We went by way of Munich. It was the first day of the declaration of
the state of war in Germany. Intense excitement prevailed. In Munich
all traffic was stopped; no trains were running except for military
purposes. It was only due to the fact that I revealed my intention of
rejoining my regiment in Austria that I was able to pass through at all,
but by both the civil and military authorities in Bavaria I was shown the
greatest possible consideration and passed through as soon as possible.
We reached Vienna on August first. A startling change had come over
the city since I had left it only a few weeks before. Feverish activity
everywhere prevailed. Reservists streamed in by thousands from all
parts of the country to report at headquarters. Autos filled with officers
whizzed past. Dense crowds surged up and down the streets. Bulletins
and extra editions of newspapers passed from hand to hand.

Immediately it was evident what a great leveler war is. Differences in
rank and social distinctions had practically ceased. All barriers seemed
to have fallen; everybody addressed everybody else.
I saw the crowds stop officers of high rank and well-known members
of the aristocracy and clergy, also state officials and court functionaries
of high rank, in quest of information, which was imparted cheerfully
and patiently. The imperial princes could frequently be seen on the
Ring Strasse surrounded by cheering crowds or mingling with the
public unceremoniously at the cafes, talking to everybody. Of course,
the army was idolized. Wherever the troops marched the public broke
into cheers and every uniform was the center of an ovation.
While coming from the station I saw two young reservists, to all
appearances brothers, as they hurried to the barracks, carrying their
small belongings in a valise. Along with them walked a little old lady
crying, presumably their mother. They passed a general in full uniform.
Up went their hands to their caps in military salute, whereupon the old
general threw his arms wide open and embraced them both, saying:
"Go on, my boys, do your duty bravely and stand firm for your emperor
and your country. God willing, you will come back to your old
mother." The old lady smiled through her tears. A shout went up, and
the crowds surrounding the general cheered him. Long after I had left I
could hear them shouting.
A few streets farther on I saw in an open cafe a young couple, a
reservist in field uniform and a young girl, his bride or sweetheart.
They sat there, hands linked, utterly oblivious of their surroundings and
of the world at large. When somebody in the crowd espied them, a
great shout went up, the public rushing to the table and surrounding
them, then breaking into applause and waving hats and handkerchiefs.
At first the young couple seemed to be utterly taken aback and only
slowly did they realize that the ovation was meant for them. They
seemed confused, the young girl blushing and hiding her face in her
hands, the young man rising to his feet, saluting and bowing. More
cheers and applause. He opened his mouth as if wanting to speak.
There was a sudden silence. He was vainly struggling for expression,
but then his face lit up as if by inspiration. Standing erect, hand at his
cap, in a pose of military salute, he intoned the Austrian national hymn.
In a second every head in that throng was bared. All traffic suddenly

stopped, everybody, passengers as well as conductors of the cars,
joining in the anthem. The neighboring windows soon filled with
people, and soon it was a chorus of thousands of voices. The volume of
tone and the intensity of feeling seemed to raise the inspiring anthem to
the uttermost heights of sublime majesty. We were then on our way to
the station, and long afterwards we could hear the singing, swelling like
a human organ.
What impressed me particularly in Vienna was the strict order
everywhere. No mob disturbances of any kind, in spite of the greatly
increased liberty and relaxation of police regulations. Nor was there
any runaway chauvinism noticeable, aside from the occasional singing
of patriotic songs and demonstrations like the one I just described. The
keynote of popular feeling was quiet dignity, joined to determination,
with an undercurrent of solemn gravity and responsibility.
I had stopped in Vienna only long enough to bid good-bye to my father,
and left for the headquarters of my regiment in Graz. I reported there
for duty and then went to join the Fourth Battalion, which was
stationed at Leoben, one hour away from Graz, my orders being to take
command of the first platoon in the sixteenth company. My