credit for Germany's position to themselves. They pointed with
pride to a picture of the Emperor adorning one wall and then smiled
with satisfaction as they indicated the portrait of von Hindenburg
on the wall opposite. One of the daughters wore a huge silver
medallion of the same renowned general on her neck. After nearly a
year and a half of war these bard-working Germans were proud of
their leaders and had absolute faith in them.

But this family had felt the war. One son had just been wounded,
they knew not how severely, in France. If some unknown English,
soldier on the Yser had raised his rifle just a hairbreadth higher
the other son would be sleeping in the blood-soaked soil of
Flanders instead of doing garrison duty in Hanover while recovering
from a bullet which had passed through his head just under the eyes.




CHAPTER II

WHEN SKIES WERE BLUE

There was one more passenger, making three, in our first-class
compartment in the all-day express train from Cologne to Berlin
after it left Hanover. He was a naval officer of about forty-five,
clean-cut, alert, clearly an intelligent man. His manner was
proud, but not objectionably so.

The same might be said of the manner of the major who had sat
opposite me since the train left Dusseldorf. I had been in Germany