Time here is no factor, for the war against England is taking on increasingly an almost religious character; from the German point of view, it will soon be, not a war, but a crusade.  I get one clue to this in the new phrase of leave-taking that has gained an astounding currency in the past few weeks.  Instead of saying “Good-bye” or “Auf Wiedersehen,” the German now says:  “God punish England!” to which the equally fervent rejoinder is, “May He do so!” This new, polite formula for leave-taking originated among the officers and men in the field, but you hear it on all sides now, uttered with a sincerity and earnestness that is peculiarly impressive.  The new style of saying “good-bye” has at least the merit of being no longer a perfunctory piece of rhetoric.

This optimism is no nation-wide attack of insanity, for the German, thorough even in forming his opinions, is the last person in the world to harbor delusions, and there is a perfect realization of the titanic task that still confronts Germany.  Nor is this confidence in ultimate victory due to lack of information or to being kept in the dark by the “iron censorship,” for the “iron censorship” is itself a myth.  It is liberal, even judged by democratic standards, and surprisingly free from red tape.  There is no embargo on the importation of foreign newspapers; even the anti-German journals of neutral countries have free entry and circulation, while at a number of well-known cosmopolitan cafes you can always read The London Times and The Daily Chronicle, only three days old, and for a small cash consideration the waiter will generally be able to produce from his pocket a Figaro, not much older.  Not only English and French, but, even more, the Italian, Dutch, and Scandinavian papers are widely read and digested by Germans, while the German papers not only print prominently the French official communiques, the Russian communiques when available, and interesting chunks from the British “eyewitness” official reports, but most of their feature stories—­the vivid, detailed war news—­come from allied sources via correspondents in neutral countries.  The German censor’s task is here a relatively simple one, for German war correspondents never allow professional enthusiasm to run away with practical patriotism, and you note the—­to an American—­amusing and yet suggestive spectacle of war correspondents specializing in descriptions of sunsets and scenery.

The German was never much of a newspaper reader before the war, but now he can challenge the American commuter as an absorbent of the printed word.  And not only has the German been suddenly educated into an avid newspaper reader, but he has developed a tendency to think for himself, to read between the lines, and interpret sentences.  Thus, no German has any illusions about the military prowess of Austria; but her failure has caused no hard feelings.  “The spirit is willing, but the leadership is weak,” is the kindly verdict, with the hopeful assumption that the addition of a little German yeast will raise the standard of Austrian efficiency and improve the quality of leadership.