KLADDE A first-rate cultural scandal—
PADDE What’ya’mean?
KLADDE —the English medal commemorating the Battle of Jutland.
PADDE Oh, that.
KLADDE After the English had gradually rewritten their heavy defeat at Jutland as a victory, they crowned this mendacious fabrication by striking a medal commemorating the naval battle. “To the glorious memory of those who perished on that day.”
PADDE Yes, that’s a bit thick! We Germans don’t need any commemorative medals!
KLADDE Compared with recent German commemorative medals, this English one can be described as poorly conceived and lacking artistic merit. The text, which says nothing about victory, is rather modest by English standards. The commemorative medals are intended for sale — the gold one for 230 marks, the total proceeds to benefit the surviving dependants of the sailors who have perished. Abhorrent as this English hypocrisy is, one cannot deny that there’s method to it, and it will undoubtedly be successful, for there can be no doubt that once again many individuals in neutral vassal states will fall for this deception.
PADDE Trademark: Liar-Grey. There’s an opportunity for us right now to strike a commemorative medal! Kaiser Wilhelm as an agricultural labourer! As we know, the Kaiser undertook a trip to the Eastern Front. His Majesty delighted his Silesian troops by assuring them of his personal recognition and gratitude for their bravery. All of Silesia rejoiced. But all of Silesia rejoiced at something else as well.
KLADDE I know. Let me tell it. Why are the people running, why are the crowds streaming out into the mown fields? To see the Kaiser. It’s between five and seven in the afternoon. Happy people bring the precious sheaves of corn to hay wains standing by. Suddenly all hands are still, silence reigns, caps are doffed, everyone is lost in wonder: the Kaiser is coming!
PADDE He’s there already, takes his coat off and — you can hardly believe your eyes — in shirtsleeves the supreme head of the German Reich starts to lend a hand, working in the field. On the furrows of our beloved Fatherland, strewn with sheaves of golden corn, a happy smile lights up His Majesty’s countenance, itself deeply furrowed by the worries of the war years.
KLADDE How to describe it?! At any rate, an uplifting, heart-warming moment.
PADDE There he is, in person, helping his people gather in the blessing bestowed “from above.”
KLADDE Like master, like man. His attendants, distinguished gentlemen and officers, follow the Kaiser’s lead. “Isn’t that our Reich Chancellor there, working in the field?”—“Indeed, it really is.”
PADDE Let me take it from there. Hot from his brow, the sweat is running now — it’s real work. The people watch in astonishment as His Majesty wipes the beads of sweat from his brow with his shirtsleeve, time after time; for stacking sheaves onto the hay wain with a pitchfork, under a sweltering sun, makes you sweat, even with your shirtsleeves rolled up, and it’s thirsty work.
KLADDE God knows!
PADDE And there we have another lovely image: His Majesty sitting in the midst of his loyal Upper Silesian subjects on—
KLADDE On what?
PADDE —on whom he can rely, sitting on—
KLADDE On what?
PADDE —on a ridge at the edge of the field, drinking fresh water from a simple jug — Well? The mind boggles! What a subject for a commemorative medal!
KLADDE —which the English could copy for us — no, I mean, copy from us! If they could!
PADDE Forget your commemorative medals! It should be filmed!
KLADDE Yes, you’re right. Listen, a highly interesting film will be opening in the cinemas in the next few days: The Battle of the Somme, the greatest event in this war.
PADDE You may well call the film the greatest event in this war. It is the first and at the same time the most recent documentary footage that the Archive of the General Staff released for public consumption. The film was made during the utmost turmoil of the battle. Four cameramen were killed during the shooting, but one after another they were replaced, until they had finally completed the whole work, which shall convey to future generations the glory of our heroic warriors. We hold our breath as a blockhouse is blown up, stormed, and taken after a heavy barrage of nerve-wracking intensity. We’re right there in the midst of the enormous showers of earth caused by exploding mines and the impact of huge, heavy-calibre shells, and in the vapours of white smoke from hand grenades, and almost more than the death-defying courage of the troops, we marvel at the man or the men who, in the hail of missiles and the rain of steel and in the very front line, are also cool enough, with an iron sense of duty, to obey the command to keep the handle of the camera turning. On all sides we see the utmost exertion of every resource, the exploitation, but also the extinction, of human energy — we see death triumphant!
KLADDE This film will doubtless go down very well with cinema audiences throughout Germany. How was it that recent official report from the War Press Bureau of our fraternal Austrian allies put it so strikingly? Our assault troops advance—
PADDE —and on their heels, our film troops. That’s the way! Death triumphant! Let our cousins on the other side of the water match us if they can! The mind—
KLADDE —boggles!
(Change of scene.)
Scene 28
Cinema.
Showing: Oh, Amalia, What Have You Done? and the hit detective film No One Escapes Me. The music is playing “My Little Poppet, Apple of My Eye.”
CINEMA MANAGER (steps forward) There now follows the first showing of the great film of the Somme. You will see the heroes of the battle, the bloom of youth and grizzled veterans, both equally weather-beaten and hardened in combat, pouring forward, surmounting obstacles, charging and engaging the enemy, between a rain of fire and a hail of shells, over loose earth pulverized by mines, pummeled and pounded in the forge of a deafening, invisible war. In three parts there unfold scenes from the terrible battle of autumn 1916, which buried the enemies’ greatest hopes. Columns of German reserves as far as the eye can see, and the impressive echo of tramping boots. Under fire from their own compatriots, German soldiers gently usher French women, children, and the aged to safety. Where once flourishing villages stretched out far and wide, and the historical beauty of picturesque old towns pleased the eye — Bapaume and Peronne and all the rest — all has been razed by Allied batteries to debris and dust, and there now remain only heaps of rubble. Next, thanks to the unique courage of valiant cameramen, four of whom met a hero’s death while filming in loyal pursuit of duty, there flicker up jerky images, a sublime example of accurate timing and resolve: “Divisional Headquarters orders bombardment and attack for 8.30 am!”—Everything is ready. — The assault troops are itching to go. — The modern machines of war, monsters that open their jaws and spew fire, the most terrible weapons of our technical age show what they’re capable of — but behind them are human bodies breathing life into dead machines. Through minefields and over obstacles, running the gauntlet of death alleys heavy with explosives, only to plunge into fierce hand-to-hand combat! — hand grenades cut a swathe! … From trench to trench, and on into the main enemy position! Our artillery gives them a breathing space and spreads terror among the enemy reserves, one trench after another is taken. This film belongs among the most beautiful and impressive of the present World War.
A FEMALE VOICE Emil, keep your hands to yourself!
(Change of scene.)
Scene 29