And yet people still doubted that it could be true that war was really imminent. They had talked of it for so long--surely it couldn’t be true, and would France and England join? How could people fight in this 20th century with civilization at such a height, with money and pleasure at the head of everything? And yet the cloud darkened and the hideous rumours became true.
The post was most uncertain, and we were told that no parcels could be sent, and only letters if open and in German; later they went even so far as to insist that only German characters should be used, no Latin writing, that is the Latin alphabet was prohibited. Many of the young people did not know how to form these characters, and writing became very laborious. Telegrams, too, could no longer be relied upon--they might go as usual, they might take a week, as all the appliances would be required for the use of mobilization and ordinary correspondence be pushed aside. During the whole time I was there, in fact, only one letter train went each day, and that at 7.30 in the evening. Even the newspapers were very irregularly delivered at first. Law and order, as connected with anything besides the iron law of war, had ceased and chaos taken its place. A blank towards the outside world settled on us--an experience so strange and not to be remembered by even the oldest.
The pastor, who had been away for a holiday, was expected, and we feared for his journey--would he succeed in getting through? He was a delicate man and might not be able to bear the strain. Everyone’s thoughts went out to those in distant places! As far as England was concerned, even at this early date all communications with the dear Homeland were cut off. All the letters and cards I had written were returned. Every protective precaution was taken by the Germans as soon as there was any doubt in their minds about the attitude of England.
Many houses had soldiers quartered in them, for the little town was dangerously situated, and must be well guarded against spies.
We held all in readiness in case any soldiers should be allotted to us, and many hopes were expressed that they would not come before the master of the house returned.
Each day the situation became more strained.
Proclamations were issued that all strangers must leave for their respective countries. Still I stayed on. I feared to travel alone through all the crowded stations, especially as greatly exaggerated stories of the harrowing experiences of other travellers kept pouring in. At that period I felt as if I would rather remain in the shelter of my friends’ house and under their protection, and so I lost my chance. Afterwards there was no possibility of my getting through as every train was needed for the military.
With the German’s usual thrift and forethought everyone began laying in a stock of provisions and especially of coal, because the supplies from England had ceased. Many shops put up their prices, eager here as elsewhere, to make the best of an opportunity, but soon a law was passed by the Government to fix a standard above which no one might charge. Hints and rules how to economise were published in the local papers. No cakes were allowed to be baked and only a certain number of breakfast rolls. A plentiful harvest lent its abundant yield of fruit and grain to help the thrifty housewife prepare for a winter of need and privation. All kinds of eatable berries were being picked to make into syrup for the wounded soldiers soon to be brought into our midst. About this time we heard that two Russian spies had been taken in a cornfield, and I was warned not to attempt to sketch or I might be put under arrest. My nerves are not over strong, but somehow I felt as if I could trust the people, and only at times fully realized my danger.
On August the 4th the pastor returned and everywhere he received a welcome. We were truly thankful to have someone to direct parish business and console the miserable and over-anxious. This kind man proved in truth a boon to the people in this time of sore distress, but, as far I was concerned, he did not add to my comfort. A German to the core, he could not refrain from arguing and boasting; but that did not happen so much at first, not until England had declared war. Our principal fear at this time was that the Russians would come across the Baltic Sea and land troops somewhere north of Berlin, and I was surprised that the authorities made no efforts to strengthen the seaward defences. Every day the Baltic showed the same still, tranquil silent surface--not a warship anywhere in sight. A motor filled with Russian spies had attempted to pass through the town early one morning. They were arrested and from that time a chain was put across the bridge and all motors forbidden to enter Neustadt--in fact any person entering the town by the bridge was stopped and examined. Soldiers were stationed at every exposed corner and numbers patrolled the streets daily. They were, however, not overworked and had plenty of time in which to drink beer. So many people were foolishly sentimental about these guardians of our safety and treated them continually at various public houses to drinks so that they were sometimes seen the worse for liquor, which greatly reduced our respect for the defenders of the Fatherland.
The market place was repeatedly filled with horses to be sold for the army. In fact they were brought in such numbers that the way was impeded and to pass along almost impossible. They had to be tested to see if they were fit for war, and these operations made walking in the vicinity where they were taking place dangerous. So many horses were sold that it was feared there would be none left to carry in the harvest, and in many districts the corn stood in sheaves ready to be carried home. Later school children offered to help with the harvesting as the men were away; and it was a curious sight to see young lads and lasses directed by old men gathering in the golden grain; but at the time of the horse sales the corn was still standing and in many fields not yet cut.
When the horses were all sold the town became quieter and the stillness after the uproar struck us as almost painful. We felt as in a besieged town so little news of the outside world could be got.
There was, however, no longer any doubt about the seriousness of the situation, for news had been brought us that England was arming against Germany. Soon enemies would entirely surround this land. This news burst upon the people as they came out of church on the 5th August. The Emperor had ordered a solemn service to be held in every church everywhere, and our little building was crowded, while lines of soldiers filled the benches and extra seats had to be supplied. A powerful sermon the pastor preached and many eyes were moist, even men bowed their heads and wept. As we came out the dreadful words “England hat den Krieg erklärt” (“England has declared war”) were hissed from mouth to mouth, and an awful gloom fell on all. People seemed to creep along, shuffling their feet in the dust. “We are lost” they cried, and then the storm burst in fearful curses against the Power which had always been in touch with Germany. These curses were dreadful for me to hear, and my situation became more painful than ever. I feared someone might assault me or at least say something offensive, but nothing happened. By this time everyone knew that an “Engländerin” was being harboured at the Pastorat, but the pastor was much beloved and respected and vouched for my good conduct when a burly policeman came to enquire about me. But on this day, when England declared war, no one noticed me. Men went about the streets with great strained eyes that saw nothing but their inward misery.
“Three against one, the odds are fearful. England by sea and France by sea and land on one side, Russia by both sea and land on the other.” They muttered, “We are fighting for our existence, how will it end?”
The thought that they had been the aggressors and that their Emperor and his party could possibly have saved the situation and the peace of Europe, had they been so minded, never seemed to occur to them; that there existed another side to the situation never entered their minds.
Sometimes we walked to the station, but at first I only ventured in the company of my friends. Herr Pastor felt it his duty to say good-bye to the streams of men going to the front, also to cheer the sobbing wives and mothers. Harrowing sights we witnessed during these pilgrimages, but no loud grief ever occurred; the controlled silence of the people struck me as wonderful; and the faces! will they ever be obliterated from my memory? Shall I ever cease to see in my mind’s eye the rigid sentries standing at the chained bridge giving people permission to pass. The station lies on the other side of the bridge, also the post office, which official edifice I always felt nervous to approach. The rigorous discipline of these civil institutions awed me from the beginning. There exists none of the easy good nature so often found in England, for neither here nor at the railway is ever any mercy shown to the late comer. As the clock strikes the post office closes even though a hurrying individual, with a bundle of letters, stands on the threshold.