impressive
appearance. With his erect, truly military carriage he makes a picture
of strength and health. With him appears a very young-looking general
who cannot be older than fifty years. A high forehead, clear blue eyes,
a powerful aquiline nose, an energetic mouth, a face--in one word--which
would be striking even if the man, to whom it belongs, would not be
wearing a general's uniform and the insignia of the order 'Pour le
merite'--one knows that one is face to face with the chief of the
General Staff, Ludendorff. The Field Marshal greets his guest with
charming friendliness, leads the way to the table and offers him the
seat to his right. During the simple evening meal he rises and offers
the toast: 'The German Fatherland!' Around the table are about ten
officers, among them Captain Fleischmann von Theissruck of the Austrian
army, who represents the Austrian General Staff. The Field Marshal
mentions a letter which he received from some one entirely unknown to
him in which the writer reproaches him most severely because some
Cossacks had entered some small town on the border. 'That will happen
again and again,' he says, 'and cannot be avoided. I cannot draw up my
troops along the entire border, man by man, like a quarantine guard. To
gather forces quickly again and again and to beat the Russians again and
again, that is the best way to make them disgusted with their stay at
the German border.' Then he relates some details about the battle of
Tannenberg. He does not tire of entertaining his guest with interesting
details about the fighting. He mentions the vast number of presents
which have been sent to him by his numerous admirers. 'It is touching
how good people are to me. A great many of their gifts are very
welcome--but what shall I do with framed pictures while I am in the
field? What shall I do after the war is over? Nothing. I'll go back to
Hanover. There are lots of younger men [pointing to Ludendorff and the
others] who want their chance, too. With my years, there is nothing more
beautiful than to retire after one's work has been done and to make room
for the younger generation.'"

Apparently the men at the "helm of the ship" lead a life of comparative
ease and security. But if we consider the fearful responsibilities that
they have to carry and the tremendous mental strain under which they are
continuously, we can readily see that their lot is not to be envied. Of
course, their rewards are equally great i