Vagabonding Through Changing GermanyFranck, Harry Alverson
History
Vagabonding Through Changing Germany
Franck, Harry Alverson
Germany -- Description and travel; Germany -- Social life and customs
But the Germans soon learned that the occupiers knew what they were
about, or at least learned with vertiginous rapidity. A burgomaster who
admitted that he might be able to accommodate four hundred men in his
town, if given time, was informed that there would be six thousand
troops there in an hour, and that they must be lodged before nightfall.
Every factory, every industry of a size worth considering, that produced
anything of use to the Army of Occupation, was taken over. We paid well
for everything of the sort—or rather, the Germans did in the end, under
the ninth article of the armistice—but we took it. Scarcely a family
escaped the piercing eye of the billeting officer; clubs, hotels,
recreation-halls, the very schools and churches, were wholly or in part
filled with the boyish conquerors from overseas. We commandeered the
poor man’s drinking-places and transferred them into enlisted men’s
barracks. We shooed the rich man out of his sumptuous club and turned it
over to our officers. We allotted the pompous _Festhalle_ and many other
important buildings to the Y. M. C. A., and “jazz” and ragtime and
burnt-cork jokes took the place of _Lieder_ and _Männerchor_. While we
occupied their best buildings, the German staff which necessity had left
in Coblenz huddled into an insignificant little house on a side-street.
Promenading citizens encountered pairs of Yanks patrolling with fixed
bayonets their favorite _Spaziergänge_. Day after day throngs of Boches
lined up before the back door to our headquarters, waiting hours to
explain to American lieutenants why they wished to travel outside our
area. Though the lieutenants did not breakfast until eight, that line
formed long before daylight, and those who did not get in before noon
stood on, outwardly uncomplaining, sometimes munching a war-bread
sandwich, until the office opened again at two, taking their orders from
a buck private, probably from Milwaukee, with a red band on his arm. A
flicker of the M. P.’s eyelid, a flip of his hand, was usually the only
command needed; so ready has his lifetime of discipline made the average
German to obey any one who has an authoritative manner. Every
railway-station gate, even the crude little ferries across the Rhine and
the Moselle, were subject to the orders of pass-gathering American
soldiers.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account