This strength was begotten by that spirit. The fashioning of such weapons was possible only because millions of industrious persons, with untiring and unremitting labors, transformed the poor Germany into the rich Germany, which was then able to prepare and conduct the war as a great industry. And what the spirit created once again serves the spirit. It shall not lay waste, nor banish us free men into slavery, but rather it shall call forth to the light of heaven a new, richer soul of life out of the ruins of a storm-tossed civilization. It shall, it must, it will conquer new provinces for the majesty of the noble German spirit (Deutschheit) that never will grow chill and numb, as the Roman did. Otherwise--and even though unnumbered billions flowed into the Rhine--the expense of this war would be shamefully wasted. Our army did not set out to conquer Belgian territory. In the war against four great powers, the west front of which alone stretched from the North Sea to the Alps, from Ghent almost to Geneva, it seemed impossible to achieve on Europe's soil a victory that would strengthen the roots of the conquering race. Gold cannot indemnify for the loss of the swarming young life which we were obliged to mourn even after ten weeks of war; and if, amid ten thousand of the fine fellows who died, there was even a single creative mind, then thousands of millions could not pay for its destruction. And what stretch of land necessary for the German people, or useful in the real sense of the word, could France or even Russia vacate for us in Europe? To be "unassailable"--to exchange the soul of a Viking for that of a New Yorker, that of the quick pike for that of the lazy carp whose fat back grows moss covered in a dangerless pond--that must never become the wish of a German. And for the securing of more comfortable frontier protection only a madman would risk the life that is flourishing in power and wealth. Now we know what the war is for--not for French, Polish, Ruthenian, Esthonian, Lettish territories, nor for billions of money; not in order to dive headlong after the war into the pool of emotions and then allow the chilled body to rust in the twilight dusk of the Deliverer of Races. No! To hoist the storm flag of the empire on the narrow channel that opens and locks the road into the ocean. I could imagine Germany's war lord, if, after Ostend, Calais, too, is captured, sending the armies and fleets back home from the east and front the west, and quietly saying to our enemies: