Behind the German veil

Front matter

c"^ O

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V I B

Part I General Impressions Chapter Page

I. The Veil and the Methods 3

II. My " PoixT d'Appui " — Robie 14

III. "The Adder" 19

IV. German Mind and Character 22

V. German Psychology 27

VI. The Press in Germany 31

VII. Berlin Impressions 46

VIII. Berlin Impressions (continued) 51

IX. Munich 65

X. Zeppelins '''2

XI. Spies and Spying — I 82

XII. Spies and Spying — II 88

XIII. Spies and Spying — III 96

XIV. A German Fable 100

XV. German Women 105

XVI. Hunting with the Camera 115

XVII. "Spiritual Humol-r" (German Variety) . . 130

Part II My Trip To The Eastern Front And Visit To Hindenburg

XVIII. Preliminaries 129

XIX. Berlin — Allenstein. Meeting with Young VON Bethmann-Hollweg — Arrest in the Fortress of Posen ... in Pyjamas . . . 134

XX. Allenstein 146

XXI. Allenstein — Feste Boten (Lotzen) . . . 156

Contents

CffAPTEB tAGB

XXII. HlNDENBUaG 163

XXIII. LoTZEN 177

Part III An Incognito Visit To The Fleet And Ger- Many's Naval Harbours

XXX. The German Admiralty 235

XXXI. Germany's Coast Defences 239

XXXII. Heligoland 249

XXXIII. Protection of the Kiel Canal 255

XXXIV. From Emden to Wilhelmshaven 259

XXXV. Wilhelmshaven 269

XXXVI. Wilhelmshaven to Cuxhaven 273

XXXVII. Cuxhaven to Kiel. The Canal 280

XXXVIII. Kiel Harbour 290

XXXIX. Training and Strategy 298

XL.

XLI.

XLII.

XLIII.

XLIV.

XLV.

XL VI.

Part IV Interviews

Introductions 307

Dr. Walther Rathenau . 320

Ambassador Count von Bernstorff .... 328

Matthias Erzberger — Press Manipulator and Advertising Expert 332

Secretary of the Late German Colonies, " Excellenz Dr. Solf," and His A.D.C, Dr. BiicHER 339

Minister of the Interior — Helfferich . . . 352

CHAPTER

XLVII.

XLVIII.

XLIX.

L.

LI.

LII.

LIII.

LIV.

CONTENTS

PAOE

Admiral von Capelle and " Captain Lieutenant" LOHLEIN 353

Press-Major Herwarth von Bitterfeld of the Great General Staff Settles the Problem of Universal Peace 355

Herr Crass, Krupp's Representative in Berlin , 360 Herr Ballin's A.D.C, Herr von Holtzendorff . 365 The German-Turkish Alliance and Its Ambitions 368

On " Strafing " and Those Who Don't . . . 387 The Fateful Interview with Baron Macchio,

Late Austro-Hungarian Ambassador in Rome 392 Another " Daily Telegraph " Interview that Upset Berlin. Trouble — Arrest — Escape . 396

PART V FINALE Envoy 401

ILLUSTRATIONS

The Author Frontispiece

FACING PAGE

The Magic Key. My Letter of Introduction to Ilindenburg written by his nephew. The address reads: To the Royal Field-Marshal, Knight of the Highest Order, Herr von Beneckendorff und von Hindenburg 16

Conscription in England. John Bull learning the goose step . 2S Winter Campaign in Poland. Kaiser in conversation with

Commander of a Landwehr Division 48

No Admission to Potsdam 56

Landwehr Non-Commissioned Officers 68

English Tricks. In order to protect public buildings from Zeppelin bombs, the English have placed German prisoners

on the roofs ' 74

Zeppelin over London. The End of England's Sea-Power. Lord Nelson descending from his Column to hide in the Underground Railway 80

Zeppelin over Lodz 84

In the Polish fighting zones. Man on left of picture was shot

at the moment of re-loading 96

The fighting near and in the woods of Augustowo . ... 96 German tars winding a wreath of mines aroimd Miss Britannia 110 Englishman in Hell. "No Zeppelins, no Krupp Howitzers;

no Submarines ! Why, I must be in Heaven ! " . . . . 122 At AUenstein Station. Von Bethmann-Hollweg, nephew of

the Chancellor, centre. Lieutenant von Plewe, right . . 138 Lieutenant von Bethmann-Hollweg, who has since been killed,

on the right, and the Author. Photograph was taken at

AUenstein Station 150

Russian Prisoners 170

The Author's car at Fortress Boy en (Lotzen), Hindenburg's headquarters. Note the Chauffeur's rifle near lamp . . 184

Patrol of woods of Augustowo 190

Advancing near Augustowo 190

German Soldiers on the Russian Front 200

ILLUSTRATIONS

FACING PAGE

A snapshot of the Kaiser taken by Prince Oscar. It was sent to a photographer in a small town to have film developed. The man printed a few copies for his own use, and sent one to an agency in Berlin. The Berlin firm sold the photograph, but the moment it appeared the greater part of the magazine in which it was published was confiscated 214 Hindenburg and his Staff. Ludendorff appropriately placed

on Hindenburg's right 220

Auto Train, Eastern Front 223

German retreat at Mlawa 226

Russian Prisoners 230

Popular Naval Poster. " Let us drink the health of the good old Emden, who is throwing such a lot of good things in

our way " 262

Commander's bridge (starboard side) of the Helgoland . . 282 Recently completed railroad bridge over the Kiel Canal near

'Rendsburg 286

Augustowo Dugouts 330

Native Soldiers of Kamerun 342

One of the largest Zeppelins leaving its shed at Marienthal,

near Berlin. Note size of men on top 352

A model Krupp gun, small type of the 42 cm. howitzer. This

model is in the author's possession 352

The Famous Krupp Armament Works at Essen. 5000 ton

Press 362

England astride Egypt, and pulling the wires for the Khedive. Figure in foreground represents Sultan of Turkey ready with a pair of scissors to cut the strings . . . . . . 370

German Prisoners in England. How the press keeps the fires of " strafing " England burning 388

MAPS

Germany's Coast Defences along the North Sea 238

Wilhelmshaven 268

Introduction

In the following chapters I have tried to record my impressions, observations, interviews and adventures on a somewhat extensive journalistic pilgrimage through Germany in war-time.

Before embarking on my descriptions, I am going to permit myself what Parliamentarians call a " personal note," which will show you that my acquaintance with Germany and the Germans is not of the " war-made " variety.

Since I am convinced that but for my American journalistic training, I would never have been able to accomplish many of my journalistic enterprises, I take this occasion to acknowledge with a deep sense of appreciation and gratitude, my three years' apprenticeship in America. They taught me many things ; they revealed to me an entirely new aspect of life. I learned the real meaning of the terms " Hustle," " Get busy " and " Stick to it." I learned there that there are many other battlefields where spurs and honours may be won than those of war and murder. I look back with interest and pleasure to many friendly (and sometimes unfriendly but always spirited) contests with colleagues, in trying to obtain the best " story " for one's own paper or even to score a " beat."

The outbreak of the war found me in America. Much as I disliked and against the advice of many friends, I gave up m}' work there. Europe called. Blood will tell. I soon found myself getting restless.

xiv INTRODUCTION

My sympathies with the Allies, more specifically the British cause, urged that I had no right to lag behind in making sacrifices.

So in September, 1914, I bid " Au revoir " to America and since then and thanks to that belated American Education, I have been able to do " my bit," as we say over there, in various capacities.

While my British confreres were still camping on the doormat of the War Office, waiting for those elusive permits (for many of them it was a case of " Wait and See," without the " see "), I was fortunate enough to reach the front at Ostende, Nieuport, Dixmude, Ypres and soon found myself in the thick of it. Oh, yes, I was arrested more than once, but I had not served my apprenticeship in American newspaperdom, without benefit. I could talk a " straight streak " in just the language the other fellow did not know — when necessary, and though I often skated on mighty thin ice I usually managed to keep out of jail.

I have had the rare privilege of reading my own obituary and even aff^orded a colleague the somewhat unique experience of shaking hands with a man whose " In Memoriam " he had written in one solid column. As your Mark Twain put it, " the report was somewhat exaggerated." (Not the first time either!) Though I had a close call, I escaped, and — as you shall see — I am still " in the ring."

By birth and parentage I am a Hollander, but the " de Beaufort " part of my name comes from a granduncle who was a native of the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg. Since 1914 my better half, or I should say my best half, has been American. Let me hasten to explain this. Before starting for the theatre of war I applied, at the advice of a friend, for my first American citizenship papers. I hope to obtain my final papers

INTRODUCTION xv

shortly, after which I shall place my services at the disposal of the American Government.

My father belonged to that type of stubborn parent who thinks he knows what is best for a boy of fifteen. He had very pronounced views, like some other people, on the Gorman educational sj'stem (so have I, for that matter, but the}' are somewhat different). He thouglit that I should benefit by a few years of German school and college. And, in spite of stormy and liquid protests, to Germany I went.

From an English tutor to a German schoolmaster! It did not take me many days after my arrival in Germany to find out the abysmal diflFerence that separates the two, and to suffer accordingly.

Talk about the two educational systems — Ye gods ! If there is any one who ought to be able to discourse on them, I think I am the man.

Being at the time — not now — an embryo large landowner, I was first sent to the Agricultural College at Cleve in the Rhine province. My " tenderest " recollections of that institution are connected with the gymnasium and a three-foot bamboo rod.

Already then I shoAved literary tendencies, but, alas ! they were neither appreciated nor encouraged. My first effort was to try and censor one of their patriotic poems. Imagine a self-respecting Hollander having to stand up in front of the class and recite five verses, each ending with : " I am a Prussian, and a Prussian I will be."

Once a term or so they hold in Germany what is called " Offentliche Priifung " ; in other words, a " public examination." The parents are invited, and those whose offspring are " show specimens " bring their friends (mine did not). The boys wear their best clothes, and, of course, only the smartest amongst them perform.

xvi INTRODUCTION

I suppose just to show that there was no ill-feeling on his part, the Headmaster, Herr Fiirstenberg — I can still see him with his mean grey eyes, looking at me over the rim of his glasses and getting a firm hold on the rod — appointed me to recite the obnoxious poem. Amid dead silence I started. When I came to the end of the verse in which I had eulogised the " old father Rhine," I yelled:

" And I am a Dutchman, and a Dutchman I will be."

It is a few years ago, but I can still see the startled audience and the awful pallor of old Fiirstenberg. An anarchist's bomb could not have had a greater effect. Then some of the people tried to smile it away, but the smile was somewhat sickly. I was promptly torn from the stand ; somebody tried to turn my ear upside-down, to which I retaliated with a well-directed kick, and then, — well, never mind. There was a vacancy at the Agricultural College.

Cleve was very uncosmopolitan. My fellow-students consisted mostly of the sons of large landowners and gentlemen farmers, and they resented, not always merely passively, the intrusion of a " Verdamrate Auslander " (" damned foreigner ") in their Germanic midst. But there was, as there is in most things in life, a price. If you were willing to demonstrate practical socialism — i.e., share your money, your sweets, your pony, your bicycle, or whatever it might be — you were, for such time as your possessions lasted, a " Lieber Kerl " ("dear chap"). Unfortunately I soon discovered that the particular socialistic principle propounded by my fellow-students — ■■ i.e., of sharing all you had — ■■ was a somewhat one-sided law, as I did all the sharing, and they all the partaking, without practising the same doctrines as far as their own possessions

INTRODUCTION xvii

were concerned. So I resigned. This did not increase my popularit3% I had as many fights as any self-respecting bo}' of fifteen could have in the Fatherland, and that, let me assure you, was sufficient to keep me in practice.

But there is one incident which will best illustrate the " camaraderie " that exists amongst German " sporting " schoolboys. There is a saying, that the boy is father to the man. I understand its meaning now. Boxing is a lost art in Germany ; it was in my days and is so still. Wrestling is their forte. Quite natural, too. The German is heavy in mind as well as in body. Wrestling does not require as quick an eye as boxing. Thanks to the very good lessons of my old English tutor, God bless him, who, between trying to teach me to pronounce " th " and the English " r," had initiated me into the secrets of boxing, I emerged victorious from many scraps.

It was the day after one of those periodical fights in which two boys of the " secunda " (I was only " tertia "), had received many marks but few honours, that I met my two opponents in the Park accompanied by four of their friends. Of course I was waylaid, and the usual schoolboy argument, " I can lick you," " No, you can't," ensued. I owned in those days an English bulldog. He looked very fierce, always wore the " By- Jingo-if-I-do " sort of expression, and was never impressed by German flattery either from man or beast. (Old Bob knew a lot, if only he could have talked ! But perhaps it was just as well he couldn't. He probably would say now : " I told you so." But " revenons a nos moutons.")

" Boxing," so I was informed, was not a gentlemanly way of fighting. Only English navvies fought with xviii INTRODUCTION

their fists. But wrestling, and wrestling according to the approved Roman or Grecian rules, now that was a different matter ; that was " fair and square " !

I told them that I was innocent of any knowledge of the Roman-Greco wrestling rules, but I offered to thrash my two opponents of yesterday once again where they stood, and I hoped that the proportion of two to one in their favour would make up for my ignorance and perhaps consequent transgression of those rules.

Here is where German diplomacy got the best of me.

" Assisted by dog and stick ? " they sneeringly inquired. I was very young and inexperienced in German methods in those days, so I was deeply insulted and most indignant at their daring to suggest such a cowardly thing. " I don't need anything else but my two fists," I yelled, " to liclc two German pigs like you." And to prove my assertion, I turned aside to where a little kind-faced, grey-bearded old German stood, and, with a polite bow, I begged him to be kind enough to hold my dog and stick for a few moments. He ver}"^ kindly condescended to accept the charge, but thought it safer to take old Bob away from the scene of the forthcoming battle. He was a wise old German.

" Divide and win " was already in those days the motto of these young warriors. "Fair and square?" Why, even then they were mere words, mere " scraps of paper."

I will not go into painful details of that engagement ; suffice it to say that I received the worst beating I ever had, or ever heard tell of. The moment my faithful friend and ally had disappeared from view, all SIX of them attacked me. Not only the " scenery of my face " — as, in my early English-speaking days I used to say instead of " expression," — but the contour as

INTRODUCTION xix

well suffered a thorough change. It was many weeks before it returned to its normal proportions and colours. There was no doubt about it; this time / bore the marks, but had they the honours ? German-like, of course they thought so, but I differed from them, and . . . remembered.

From Cleve I went to Bonn, which was comparatively uneventful, as, of course, I gradually began to grasp the German point of view. My earlier impressions were the most pregnant and vivid.

Often during the last two years they have come back to me and that is probably the reason why I have not been able to share the feelings of surprise my English friends experience when reading the reports of the German way of fighting. Never, until this war, did I really fully appreciate the advantage those three years in Germany conferred on me.

I apologise to my father. He was right — Germany taught me many things; but, best of all, " I learned about ' Germans ' from her."

J. M. DE B.

New York, April, 1917.

Chapter I

"r INHERE is no German Veil; we have nothing to A hide." Thus Major Deutelmoser, Chief of the Press Department of the General Staff in Berlin, countered when I jestingly remarked that I had come to German}^, " to have a peep behind the veil." How many a true word is spoken in jest !

I received practically the same reply everywhere whenever I suggested the veil or " behind the scenes."

" We have nothing to hide," thundered Major Herwarth von Bitterfeld, of the Intelligence Service. *' The German Veil is only another of the many inventions of our enemies, chiefly the English. You can see everything in Germany ; go anywhere, everything is open and above board."

" The German Veil is a myth," said Baron Mumm von Schwarzenstein, of the Foreign Office ; " it is as great a myth as the British Fleet in the German Ocean.* It does not exist. It is an illusion."

There you are, dear reader, three opinions thrown at me — nay, I feel inclined to say, jammed down my throat — many times a day during the months I spent in Germany.

The ideas that existed in England about Germany during the early months of the war were simply ap-

1 German for North Sea. 3 palling. Many opinions expressed by the majority of people were preposterous.

And when I say " people," I do not mean that vague individual, " the man in the street," but your educated, well-read and even well-travelled classes: soldiers, parliamentarians, writers (famous strategists!), etc., etc. To read some of your papers, to listen to some of your people, one would have thought that the Russians were going to march through the Brandenburger Thor of Berlin by Christmas, 1914, and that the Belgians would celebrate New Year's Eve in their beloved Brussels. The Kaiser was to be deposed, and Prussia was going to receive a really liberal constitution. Germany could not stand the financial strain. The military correspondent of one of your most important papers wrote in August, 1914 : " German financial experts have suggested ways and means for financing a war lasting six months, but no longer, on the present enormous scale " ! A well-known Member of Parliament told me in January, 1915, that Germany would sue for peace in three months ; a military writer — a colonel — wrote that the last German offensive would take place in September, 1915, and that in the following October the Allied line would run from Ostend, through Maubeuge, Ardennes, Luxembourg, Metz, Strassburg! Germany would soon be short of everything — bread, copper, cotton, rubber, petrol — and, if you read some of the statistics given by your " experts " on German man-power, the German trenches ought to have been manned for the last six months by idiots and cripples.

Even to-day, after twenty-eight months of war, there are still many people in this country who have not the faintest understanding about the German character, the German aims, their cunning and their designs.

Here and there I hear whispers about peace ; I am asked whether the present peace-talk may lead to anything.

I hope to God it will !

I hope it will lead to a doubled — nay, to a hundredfold — renewed effort of smashing the Germans' warmachine. I should like to see the Germans — in the famous words of Bismarck when he referred to the French — " left with nothing but their eyes to weep with." Alas! that will prove too expensive an order, but they must be beaten, and they can be beaten only by the memory of those that have sacrificed their lives ; disabuse yourself of the illusion that it is done already.

Germany is far from beaten yet.

" But they want peace," I have been told so often these last weeks. Perhaps they do ; again, perhaps they don't ! The Germans are no fools, whatever else they may be, and they are perfectly well aware that the Allies would not, and could not, accept any terms which Germany at present, with both eyes on the map, would propose. I do not believe that there is any peace door " ajar " yet. I think that entrance or exit, whatever you choose to call it, is still barred and locked, and that the deceptive " latchstring " hanging outside is connected with a mine. The Germans are merely looking out of the window — the top-floor one — and I think that whosoever would venture close to that " peace door " would have a somewhat similar experience as some of our men had early in the war, when they rushed towards " surrendering " Germans, showing the white flag and standing with their hands up.

I fear that there is a great deal more than barbed wire and machine-guns behind that German " peace door."

It may not be so evident to those who only look as far as . . . the door; but let me quote part of a conversation I had with one of Hindenburg's staff-officers at Allenstein, East Prussia, last year; it may enlarge their view. Said he :

" We never thought we could do it. We never expected that we should be called upon to fight so many enemies at the same time. We were not prepared for that. We were short of ammunition in November, 1914. But if we are able to accomplish all we have up till now, UN prepared, then ' Himmel ' " (by heaven!), " give us a draw now and see what we can do ten years hence."

Yes, perhaps Germany wants peace now, but only because she wants to have foundations left upon which to build a new organisation, a new stupendous warmachine, which in ten years from now would dwarf anything the world has yet seen, heard or imagined.

That is what I should answer to those who are thinking of peace now.

Since the beginning of the war I have had arguments, discussions, remonstrations, and even to a certain extent quarrels, with many friends and acquaintances, sometimes even at the risk of being suspected of pro-German sympathies. Of course, before my recent German visit my arguments were weakened by the fact that I had not been in Germany for six or seven years, and therefore could not speak from fresh personal observation.

So, when after several months at the Belgian front and in France, the London DaUy Telegraph, in conjunction with several American publications, offered me a special journalistic mission, viz., to go to Germany, I accepted with alacrity.

I thought that by going to Germany as a journalist, by looking round, and seeing what the general feeling of the people was; their mental attitude towards the war, the condition of the country generally, etc., etc., and by telling the people of the allied countries on my return what I had seen, I would be doing my share.

It has been suggested — I have even seen it in print — that I undertook my trip on behalf of the British Intelligence Service.

Any such assertion is absolutely and utterly false.

I held no brief, either for the British or for any other Government, and I have never received, nor asked, one single penny from any other sources but those in payment for journalistic and literary material which has been published.

I started on my mission and entered Germany with as far as possible an open mind. I could not honestly say at that time that I hated the Germans ; I merely had no use for them. Besides, I have always believed that the spirit of hatred is a great drawback to any journalist. It tends to blind intelligent observation; it makes him see matters distorted. I wanted no secrets, naval, military or otherwise ; I wanted news, straight, honest, reliable news. My likes or dislikes had nothing to do with my work. I entered upon my mission in exactly the same spirit as I would have had in Paris, Rome, Petrograd, Constantinople, etc. But even a journalist of less perspicacity than one schooled in America would soon find out that " straight, reliable news " are somewhat rare and expensive commodities in Germany these days. You might find " news," but without the " reliable " or the " straight." You may find the " reliable " and the " straight " but without it being news.

" We have nothing to hide." H'm ! only you must look at everything with German-coloured glasses. If you happen to try to talk with a private, very soon his superior oflScer will cut short his answers and reply for him. If for the sake of argument you take the " purely hypothetical " case, " Suppose Germany should be defeated? " you are told at once that unless you wish to make yourself thoroughly unpopular in Germany, and have your entire mission become an utter failure, you must not suggest such " impossible abstract cases " ; you must not " put such ideas into people's heads ! "

Except in the case of certain show prisoners' camps, every journalist is rigorously excluded from Belgium, Luxembourg and Poland, which have remained terra incognita to all journalists, except those who have given abundant proofs that they were willing to read and see everything with German spectacles. And even they are not allowed to roam at large. If you want any interviews you must accept the " made in Germany " variety. In fine, they have " nothing to hide," but you must ask no questions ; you must travel round Germany hand in hand with your German guardian angel, who watches and wards you night and day ; and except when he tells you to " stop, look and listen," you must " Move on," deaf, dumb and blind !

Consequently, to be a "successful" journalist in Germany means selling your birthright for a mess of pottage. Let me hasten, though, to add that the sale is so cleverly disguised that the majority of neutral journalists are unaware of it. Why? Ah, that is difficult to explain. It is the German atmosphere.

The German war atmosphere has a most peculiar, strange and indescribable effect upon the mind. I feel that I can state without fear of contradiction that out of every thousand real neutrals that enter Germany, nine hundred and ninety-nine succumb within a few short weeks to German " ideals " and points of view. Indeed, you must carry the strongest pro-Ally or pro-

British convictions, in order to be able to withstand the German influence getting hold of you.

It is a most marvellous, a most extraordinary phenomenon ; it is something indefinably subtle, and in my heart I cannot blame any colleagues for having become hypnotised by that influence. The German arguments are convincing; they are plausible, logical, final, to the German and the German-prepared mind. I fear I cannot even attempt to describe it within the space of a chapter. It has become something like the spirit of religion.

I have watched and seen its eff^ect upon colleagues who entered Germany in a neutral state of mind, some even with a leaning towards the Allied side. Within a week they were " converted."

And I may as well confess right now that even I, heart, body and soul pro-British as I am and have been for twelve years, even I realise that at times it was only the strong impenetrable armour of my motto, " Right or Wrong — England," that kept me unscathed.

This is what a neutral journalist in Germany finds himself pitted against. To collect news and reliable impressions in spite of those influences, which are at work against you day and night, let me assure you, is no easy task.

And with the same assiduity the German cause is preached and served in neutral countries.

There are three diff'erent ways open to a journalist in the Fatherland.

The first way — and to some of the fraternity the simplest and easiest — is to throw all self-respect to the winds ; to learn to recite Lissauer's " Hymn of Hate," forwards, backwards and sideways ; to write daily eulogies on the land that holds the monopoly of