Departure

Ulm, July 31, 1914—The danger of war hung ominously over the German nation. Everywhere, serious, troubled faces! Unbelievable rumours which spread with the greatest of rapidity filled the air. Since dawn all public bulletin boards had been surrounded. One extra edition of the papers followed the other.

At an early hour the 4th Battery of the 49th Field Artillery Regiment hurried through the old imperial city. Die Wacht am Rhein resounded in the narrow streets.

I rode as an infantry lieutenant and platoon commander in the smart Fuchs Battery to which I had been assigned since March. We trotted along in the bright morning sunshine, did our normal exercises, and then returned to our quarters accompanied by an enthusiastic crowd whose numbers ran into thousands.

During the afternoon, while horses were being purchased in the barrack yard, I obtained relief from my assignment. Since the situation appeared most serious, I longed for my own regiment, the King Wilhelm I, to be back with the men whose last two years of training I had supervised in the 7th Company, 124th Infantry (6th Wurttemberger).

Along with Private Hanle, I hurriedly packed my belongings; and late in the evening we reached Weingarten, our garrison city.

On August 1, 1914, there was much activity in the regimental barracks, the big, old cloister building in Weingarten. Field equipment was being tried on! I reported back to headquarters and greeted the men of the 7th Company whom I was to accompany into the field. All the young faces radiated joy, animation, and anticipation. Is there anything finer than marching against an enemy at the head of such soldiers?

At 1800, regimental inspection. Colonel Haas followed his thorough inspection of the field-gray clad regiment with a vigorous talk. Just as we fell out, the mobilization order came. Now the decision had been made. The shout of German youths eager for battle rang through the ancient, gray cloister buildings.

The 2nd of August, a portentous Sabbath! Regimental divine services were held in the bright sunlight, and in the evening the proud 6th Wurttemberger Regiment marched out to resounding band music and entrained for Ravensburg. An unending stream of troop trains rolled westward toward the threatened frontier. The regiment left at dusk to the accompaniment of cheers. To my great disappointment I was obliged to remain behind for a few days in order to bring up our reserves. I feared that I was going to miss the first fight.

The trip to the front on August 5, through the beautiful valleys and dells of our native land and amid the cheers of our people, was indescribably beautiful. The troops sang and at every stop were showered with fruit, chocolate, and rolls. Passing through Kornwestheim, I saw my family for a few brief moments.

We crossed the Rhine during the night. Searchlights crisscrossed the sky on the lookout for enemy planes or dirigibles. Our songs had died down. The soldiers slept in all positions. I rode in the locomotive, looking now into the firebox then out into the rustling, whispering, sultry summer's night wondering what the next few days would bring.

In the evening of August 6 we arrived at Konigsmachern near Diedenhofen and were glad to be out of the cramped quarters of the troop train. We marched through Diedenhofen to Ruxweiler. Diedenhofen was not a pretty sight with its dirty streets, houses, and taciturn people. It seemed so different from my home in Swabia.

We continued the march, and at nightfall a torrential downpour set in. Soon there was not a dry stitch of clothing on our bodies, and the water-soaked packs began to weigh heavily. A fine beginning! Occasional shots were heard far in the distance.

About midnight our platoon arrived in Ruxweiler without suffering any losses during the six-hour march. The company commander, First Lieutenant Bammert, awaited us. Cramped quarters on straw was our lot.