>>As WWI began, the British correspondent, Philip Gibbs, was reporting from Paris.
>>[Gibbs] In those first days of the war I saw many scenes of farewell.
Hundreds of women were in the crowd waving handkerchiefs.
The sting of parting was forgotten in the enthusiasm and pride which rose up to
those who were on their way to fight for France and to uphold their old traditions.
I could see no tears then but my own.
I was seized with an emotion that made me shudder.
For beyond the pageantry of the cavalcade I saw the fields of war.
[explosions and gun fire]
I smelled the stench of blood for I had been in the muck and misery of war before.
And had seen the convoys of wounded crawling down the rutty roads.
With men who had been strong and fine, now shattered, twisted,
and made hideous by pain.
[music]
>>This program was made possible by a grant from the National Endowment for
the Humanities, a Federal agency that supports research, education, and
humanities programs for the general public.
And by the Arthur Vining Davis Foundations.
Funding for this program was also provided by the Corporation for Public
Broadcasting, and by annual financial support from viewers like you.
[music]
[bell ringing]
>>When the call to arms was read in Germany,
a young student named Walter Lemmer was eager to serve his country.
>>[Walter] August 3, 1914, at last I have got my orders.
Dear Mother, please try to keep constantly before your mind what I have realized.
If at this time we think of ourselves and those who belong to us, we shall be petty and weak.
We must have a broad outlook and think of our nation, our Fatherland, of God.
>>All across Europe, soldiers were mobilizing for war,
saying goodbye to their families and rushing to the front.
>>[Walter] Our march to the station was a gripping and uplifting experience.
It seemed as if one lived through as much in that one hour as ordinarily in months and years.
This hour is one such as seldom strikes in the life of a nation.
[crowd cheering]
>>Not everyone was as excited as Walter Lemmer. Some were terrified.
But, the German army had never lost a war.
The strategy called the Schlieffen plan was daring and required precision timing.
In the east, the Russian army would be held at bay.
In the west, the German army would avoid France's line for forts by sweeping west
through neutral Belgium and then turning in a huge arc south into France.
The French army would be destroyed in Paris.
The war on the western front would be over by Christmas.
Then the German army would turn to Russia.
The German Kaiser, Wilhelm II, summed up the plan in a phrase:
"Paris for lunch, dinner in St. Petersburg."
>>[Walter] My dear ones, be proud that you live in such a time, and in such a nation.
And that you too have the privilege of sending several of those you love into
this glorious struggle. It is a joy to go to the front with such comrades.
We are bound to be victorious.
>>Walter Lemmer's illusions of victory were about to vanish.
For what awaited him was a new kind of war. He was killed in his first battle.
[music]
On the morning of August 4, 1914, the German cavalry crossed the border into Belgium.
Facing them was an army of the last century.
The small Belgian force was poorly equipped.
Now they face the world's mightiest army, ten times their size.
The Belgians could have allowed Germany to pass through their territory.
Instead, they chose to fight.
Belgium's only hope rested with the forts ringing the gateway city of Liège.
This complex of underground fortresses was considered one of the strongest positions in Europe.
But, the German army had planned for the forts and unveiled a secret weapon...
...Big Bertha, the world's largest cannon.
Concrete forts, once thought impregnable, collapsed from Big Bertha's one ton shells.
Some Belgian soldiers went mad in anticipation of the next explosion.
Others swore they would fight to the last man.
>>[Belgian soldier] The fort is now in ruins. We are in complete darkness and
scarcely able to breath on account of the poisonous and noxious gases.
A truce bearer demanded the surrender of the fort. We prefer dying to surrendering.
>>The Belgian commander was knocked senseless in the final bombardment.
When he awoke he was a prisoner of the Germans.
"I was taken unconscious," he told his captors. "Be sure to put that in your dispatches."
The German army began flooding across the Belgian plains.
They expected no further resistance, but to their surprise,
Belgian snipers, known as francs-tireurs, started shooting.
>>[Fritz Nagel] War for Belgium soon became a hideous experience
because the population took part in the fight.
>>Fritz Nagel was a frightened German soldier.
He saw the fear of those around him turn into acts of reprisal against innocent civilians.
>>[Fritz] Unless they shot first, nobody knew where the enemy was.
Whenever they had the chance, they shot down German soldiers. [gun shots]
There was little defense against that sort of warfare because the streets were
full of civilians and so were the houses.
It was nerve-wracking in the extreme.
And resulted in savage and merciless slaughter at the slightest provocation.
As we marched towards Louvain, frightened civilians lined the streets,
hands held high as a sign of surrender.
To see those frightened men, women, and children was a terrible sight.
And now the German soldier was frightened too.
>>[Wolfgang Mommsen] Once the opinion comes up that there is systematic [inaudible] action,
then you get the orders from above to be as harsh as possible
in order to stifle this from the very first moment.
And that triggers off this wave of rather violent actions, and atrocities, against the civilian population.
>>Ten civilians, the Belgians were threatened, would die for every German killed.
The Germans made good on their word.
Hundreds of men, women, and children were round up and shot.
Word of the atrocities quickly spread. With each retelling they became more vicious.
Soon images of a less-than-human German Hun began appearing.
Exaggerated stories were taken as fact and found their way into newspapers:
"British war correspondents in Belgium have seen little murdered children with roasted feet."
"This was done by German troops. Men with children of their own at home or
with little brothers and sisters of the same age as the innocents they tortured before killing."
"The things done to Belgian girls and women are so unspeakably dreadful
that the deeds cannot be printed."
>>[Jay Winter] Many of the stories that rapidly became well-known through the
press formed the basis of a very substantial, probably the first substantial,
propaganda campaign in history. And it gave the allies an extraordinary weapon
because what it suggested was that the Germans committed atrocities,
not because they were soldiers, not because they were occupiers of Belgium,
but because they were Germans. There was something genetic about their viciousness.
And this was made into the imagery of the Hun.
>>The Belgians had held up the German army only a few days, but the real cost
to Germany was the image of the violation of a small nation fighting for survival.
The symbol of poor, little Belgium would haunt the Germans for years to come.
[sound of typing]
>>[Philip Gibbs] The thunderbolt fell with its signal of war and
in a few days Paris was changed as though by some wizard's spell.
A hush fell upon Montmartre and the musicians and its orchestras packed up
their instruments and scurried with scared faces to Berlin, Vienna, and Budapest.
The Seine River was very quiet beneath its bridges.
The women were hiding in their rooms, asking God how they were going to live
now that their lovers had gone away to fight.
>>Journalist, Philip Gibbs, was in France at the outbreak of war.
Forbidden to travel with the army, he reported from Paris, a city he found in shock.
>>[Gibbs] There was no wild outbreak of Jingo fever,
no demonstrations of bloodlust against Germany, in Paris or any town in France.
The call to arms came without any loud clamor of bugles or orations.
The quietness of Paris was astounding.
>>This was not the first time France had gone to war against Germany.
In 1871, a victorious Germany had taken as spoils of war two of France's richest provinces: Alsace and Lorainne.
Now a new generation of France's sons was called upon to defend their nation.
>>[Madame Drumont] The continuous stream flows out towards death.
Soldiers pass, singing and shouting: "to Berlin!" Others go by in silence,
fierce-looking and determined. On this scene of desolation the sun shown gloriously,
indifferent to the troubles of this Earth.
>>The call to arms cut across all social boundaries.
Madame Camille Drumont, a member of France's upper class,
was not spared the pain of saying goodbye.
Her son was among those going off to war. "Would she ever see him again," she worried.
Or simply be left with a house filled with memories.
>>[Drumont] Now that the quiet of evening is falling I am thinking more than ever of you, my darling child.
Where are you?
What are you doing?
This morning I went into the drawing room and my eyes fell on your violin.
I burst into tears and ran from the room.
>>Like most in Paris, Madame Drumont was not ready for another war,
but the French commander believed his army was ready.
Joseph Jacques Césaire Joffre was a champion of the offensive.
Speed and bravery were of the essence.
"The bayonet," he told his soldiers, "was a supreme weapon for victory."
>>[Trevor Wilson] The infantry, bearing their bayonets, their rifles with bayonets,
are really intended to terrify the enemy by the sight of cold steel.
It is believed that an attacking force will look so ferocious and will behave
so ferociously that an enemy will quail before the sheer valor and the bravery of this oncoming force.
>>[Gibbs] In the dawn and pallid sunlight of the morning, they came across the bridges
with glinting rifles. And the blue coats and red trousers of the infantry made
them look, in the distance, like tin soldiers from a children's play box.
I close my eyes to shut out the glare and glitter of this kaleidoscope.
What does it all mean? This surging of armed men?
What would it mean in a day or two when another tide of men had swept up against it?
>>Joffre was determined to strike out against Germany and win back France's lost provinces.
Mistakenly believing that the Belgian thrust was a diversionary attack,
most of the French army moved northeast toward Alsace and Lorraine.
Paul Lantier, a young French soldier, was about to enter battle for the first time.
He was ready, he wrote in his diary, "to sacrifice his life to retake the soil of France."
[gun shots]
>>[Lantier] I felt a choking sensation grip my throat.
The hour had come for me to sacrifice my life.
My bleeding body would lie stretched out on the field. I seem to see it, it was the end.
It had not been long in coming for I am only 21.
>>Against heavy artillery and machine guns, Lantier's courage counted for little.
His regiment lined up in formation better suited to the 19th century and advanced in full view.
>>[Lantier] Shells continue to fly over us. The enemy was advancing.
Entire companies of infantry fell back.
We had lost the battle. I did not know why or how.
>>[Mommsen] They were devastated. The French were slaughtered.
Many of them were still wearing the brightly colored uniforms that armies used to wear in the past.
Now, in the past, armies wore brightly colored uniforms because there was so much
smoke on the battlefield that if you didn't have bright uniforms you couldn't see who
were your friends and who were your enemies.
With the invention of long range rifles and machine guns, with the invention of smokeless power,
this was not a problem. The problem was if you wore a bright uniform you were a very conspicuous target.
>>In 4 days, over 40,000 French soldiers were killed. 27,000 alone on August 22, 1914.
The bloodiest day in French military history.
Soon the French army was in retreat.
>>[French soldier] A deep sense of shame oppressed us as we filed through these villages,
which we were powerless to protect. Which we were abandoning to the fury of the enemy.
>>As the French army fell back, Joffre notified his government.
In 12 days the Germans would be at the walls of Paris.
"Would the city be ready," he asked, "to withstand a seize?"
Everyone who could, fled from the advancing Germans. Rails and roads were flooded with refugees.
Madame Drumont watched them stream passed her window.
>>[Drumont] One can imagine nothing more dismal than the stream of fugitives along the roads of France.
We saw them passing by our houses, coming from goodness knows where.
Piled up on carts with their animals, their bedding, and all their household goods.
They had come through Paris, their horses almost dropping with fatigue, to seek a refuge in some friendly district.
But, where that would be, they knew not.
For the moment their only idea was to go a long, long way off to the other ends of the earth.
>>As the German army neared Paris, Madame Camille Drumont chose to flee too.
She escaped by train for the French coast.
>>[Drumont] Trains full of soldiers, and even of wounded, were hung up like us on parallel lines.
All this confusion brought home to one the panic and terror of this herd of human beings
who, in order to escape from the enemy, were rushing headlong into inconceivable troubles.
Another train had also drawn up, and in the moonlight,
the two trains looked like long funeral processions.
With my face in my hands I was crying.
All of a sudden the most exquisite song rose in the tragic night.
The voice came from the other train. It was a man's voice,
and he sang the serenade from "The Damnation of Faust."
[singing in French]
This song lifted my spirits from gloom and my soul from despair.
In the moonlight in the midst of all this human misery and distress it was sublime.
>>Refugees were fleeing the face of war in Germany, too.
They were escaping from two Russian armies who were invading Germany in support of their French allies.
The Kaiser was urged by his commanders to pull his forces back, but he would hear nothing of it.
He appointed two new commanders, Paul von Hindenburg and Erich Ludendorff,
to stop the Russian advance. The Russian army was an enormous force, outnumbering the Germans 4 to 1.
But, they were poorly trained and incompetently led.
>>[Orlando Figes] The general staff had quarters that resembled more a gentlemen's club than it did
a military headquarters. After dinner they'd have plenty of time for cigars.
Most of the generals had plenty of time to write voluminous memoirs.
And they had a really outdated notion of military strategy.
They believed that the bravery of the Russian soldier would be enough to see Russia through.
>>Bravery was no substitute for modern weapons.
Even in the first days, artillery shells had to be rationed.
Some soldiers went into battle without a rifle.
The Russian commanders, Paul von Rennenkampf and Alexander Samsonov, were not even on speaking terms.
To bypass a 50 mile chain of lakes the Russian generals split their armies in two.
The Germans pounced on the opportunity. They moved their forces south
where they outnumbered and surrounded Samsonov's army at the battle of Tannenberg.
[gunshots]
>>[Alfred Knox] The German machine guns were deadly. Mowing down rows of Russians immediately
as they raised themselves in the potato fields to fire or to advance.
>>Alfred Knox was a British military officer assigned to observe the Russian advance.
Instead he witnessed the annihilation of Samsonov's army.
>>[Knox] Samsonov said repeatedly that the disgrace of such a defeat was more than he could bear.
"The emperor trusted me. How can I face him after such a disaster."
He went aside and his staff heard a shot.
They searched for his body without success, but all are convinced that he shot himself.
>>[Jay Winter] What happened was is Samsonov could not stand the shame of defeat and took his own life.
This is the only case in the first World War where one of the commanding generals
in a major operation is killed in the course of that operation. And almost certainly by his own hand.
>>The battle of Tannenberg was Germany's greatest victory of the entire war.
100,000 Russians were taken prisoner.
30,000 were dead.
>>[Figes] The Russian commanders were trying to stop the German war machine simply by throwing at it
a mountain of human bodies. The French military attaché consoled with the Grand Duke Nicholai,
the commander and chief, over these loses and Nicholai's response was
"It's an honor to make such a sacrifice for our allies."
>>However disastrous, the Russians had diverted German troops away from France.
Blood would continue to be shed in the east, but the decisive battles would now take place on the western front.
[music]
Of all the powers in Europe, Britain alone relied on a volunteer army.
The minister of war, Earl Kitchener, was deeply pessimistic.
He believed Britain's small army would not last long.
The war, Kitchener predicted, would take 3 years and require millions of recruits.
From town halls to church pulpits, men were urged to take up the "call to arms."
The Yorkshire Post reported how a soccer match turned into a recruiting drive.
[crowd cheering]
>>[reporter] Stirring scenes were witnessed on the Leeds City football club's ground
last evening at the end of the match. The Lord Mayor addressed a crowd of about 4,000 spectators.
There was a spirited rush across the field and rousing cheers.
Up the steps sturdy, young fellows came to receive an armlet of ribbon with the national colors.
And to win, perchance with their comrades, an imperishable glory on the battlefield.
When the rush subsided, it was found that the number of volunteers was 149.
The lady mayoress called for a further 51.
Another dash was made. Another round of prolonged cheering.
And to the chorus of "It's a Long Way to Tipperary" the quota was quickly filled.
[music]
>>From the football field, the recruits marched to the town hall to enlist.
They found volunteering was not the same as being accepted.
There were height and chest requirements. They had to have good teeth and be between the ages of 19-30.
Everyone was encouraged to enlist with his friends. "Join up with your pals," soon became the recruiting slogan.
[singing] Another little drink. Another little drink. Another little drink wouldn't do any harm.
Another little drink. Another little drink..
>>These men joined to defend their homes, their pubs, their pals.
>>[British man] Well, I said, "I've joined now. I can't do any more." Well, she said,
"You can either have me or the pals." I said, "Well, it's got to be the pals." [laughter]
>>Another little drink. Another little drink won't do any harm. Another little drink...
>>[British man] They asked me my height and I told them. They hummed and hawed about it.
I'm 5 foot 6 so I filled my shoes with papers. Anyway, I says, "well, there's my pals joining.
Six of us all joining, all footballers." So, they says, "Ah, go on, let him go in." So, I was one of the midgets.
>>After the initial rush the number of volunteers dwindled,
but it would rise again following news of the British army's huge loses in Belgium and France.
[singing] As the train moved out he said, 'Remember me to all the birds.'
Then he wagged his paw and went away to war Shouting out these pathetic words:
Goodbye-ee, goodbye-ee, Wipe the tear, baby dear, from your eye-ee,
Tho' it's hard to part I know, I'll be tickled to death to go.
[bugle music]
>>As volunteers jammed recruiting stations, the regular British army began crossing the English channel.
Among them was a 20-year-old Irishman, John Lucy.
Long before the war, he and his brother had joined the army to escape the boredom of life on an Irish farm.
>>[John Lucy] We were tired of fathers, of advice from relations, of bottled coffee essence,
of school, and of newspaper offices.
The cattle, fowl, eggs, butter, bacon, and the talk of politics filled us with loathing.
As a matter of fact, we were full of life and the spirit of adventure and wanted to spread our wings.
We got adventure! We enlisted.
At first, we could not follow the trend of events on the continent. Who were we to fight?
French, Russians, Germans? What did it matter?
The doors of that rapid-fire of ours followed by an Irish bayonet charge, would soon fix things.
>>On August 23rd, John Lucy's unit reached the Belgian town of Mons.
The next day they faced a German force outnumbering them nearly 3 to 1.
The Germans attacked in waves, advancing shoulder-to-shoulder over open fields.
[gunshots and shouting]
>>[John Lucy] Our rapid fire was appalling even to us, and the worst marksman could not miss.
And after the first shock of seeing men slowly and helplessly falling down as they were hit,
gave us a great sense of power and pleasure.
It was all so easy.
>>But, it only seemed so.
The next morning, John Lucy was surprised to hear that the British army was being ordered to retreat.
>>[Trevor Wilson] The British were facing such an overwhelming force, if they stood there they
would be destroyed. So, for 13 days the British army is in retreat and John Lucy and his brother
just foot-slog back all the way over hundreds of miles, from Belgium to just outside Paris.
>>[John Lucy] Every cell in our bodies craved rest.
Men slipped while they marched and they dreamed as they walked. They talked of their homes,
of their wives and mothers, of their simple ambitions, of beer and cozy pubs,
and they talked of fantasies. The brains of soldiers became clouded while their feet moved automatically.
>>Like the British and French, the German army was also exhausted.
As the German right flank drove deeper, it separated from the rest of the invading force.
Recognizing their vulnerability, the Germans pulled up 25 miles before Paris.
Now it was France's chance to attack. But, to fail this time would be to lose Paris and the entire war.
Every available French soldier was rushed to the front.
Paul Lantier was surprised to see even taxi cabs headed for battle.
>>[Lantier] Inside the cabs I caught a glimpse of soldiers sleeping. "Wounded?" asked somebody.
"No," came the answer from a passing car, "it's the 7th division from Paris. They're off to the front."
>>What followed was a battle of the Marne. It lasted 6 days and involved 2 million men.
When the battle ended the German advance had been stopped.
Paris was saved. The Schlieffen Plan was in ruins.
But, stopping the Germans was not the same as [inaudible].
To survive against the modern weapons of war, soldiers abandoned their 19th century tactics
of open warfare and began digging into the earth. Trenches spread mile after mile. Stalemate was born.
>>[Wilson] And this is the first time that the British are up against the realities of trench warfare.
And they are absolutely baffled as to why they have not been able to drive the Germans back,
have not been able to break through. This is for them, a whole new phenomenon.
>>Reaching stalemate was the bloodiest period of the entire war.
In 5 months, 400,000 French soldiers were killed.
German casualties were just as staggering.
The small British force had been almost wiped out.
John Lucy had survived, but not his brother.
>>[John Lucy] I dreamed of him at night. And once he appeared to visit me,
laying a hand on each of my shoulders. Telling me he was all right. I felt relieved after this curious dream.
I was too weary to appreciate my own luck.
My eyes weakened, wandered and rested on the half-hidden corpses of men and youth.
Proudly and sorrowfully I looked at them,
The Macs and the O's,
and the hardy Ulster boys joined together in death on a foreign field.
My dead chums.
>>No one knew that 1914 would end in stalemate.
In an attempt to break out of the trenches, all kinds of inventions, some more medieval than modern, were tried.
Iron netting to protect eyes from flying shrapnel.
Bullet-stopping body armor.
Mobile encasements for advancing across no-man's-land.
All were totally useless.
The best they could do was to continue digging into the earth.
Soldiers who thought the war would be over by Christmas found themselves living in ditches.
>>[Paul Fussell] The first thing was it smelled bad. It smelled bad because there were open
latrines everywhere. They weren't always used by the troops. There were bodies rotting everywhere.
Both the Germans and the British were troubled with rats.
The rats ate corpses and then they came in and snuggled next to you while you were sleeping.
Sky study becomes one of your few amusements.
You never see your enemy and the only thing you can see is the sky up above actually.
>>Living in the trenches, some men thought, was like being buried alive.
To stay sane soldiers sang songs, wrote letters home, and relied on their humor.
>>[soldier] I've a little, wet home in a trench, Where the rain storms continually drench;
There's a dead cow close by with her feet towards the sky and she gives off a terrible stench.
Underneath in the place of a floor there's a massive wet moat and some straw.
But, with shells dropping there, there's no place to compare with my little, wet home in the trench.
>>But, the brutality of war could not be laughed away.
The German soldier, Franz Blumenfeld, wrote home of the strain of living in a trench.
>>[Franz] Dear Mother, Your wishing you could provide me with a bullet-proof vest is very sweet of you,
but strange to say I have no fear, none at all, of bullets and shells, but only of this great
spiritual loneliness.
I am afraid of losing my faith in human nature, in myself, in all that is good in the world!
How is it possible that it gives me more pain to bear my own loneliness
than to witness the suffering of so many others?
What is the good of escaping all the bullets and shells, if my soul is injured? -Franz
>>A few yards away, the British and French were enduring the same hardships.
To stay alive, soldiers conspired to limit the killing. It was called "live and let live."
>>[Wilson] Command made it clear that a certain number of shells had to go over every day in
order to make life miserable for the enemy.
But, ok, you've sent them over at that time of day when the enemy would not be having dinner.
You wouldn't fire at a position where you were likely to hurt many of the enemy.
You actually hadn't done the enemy a lot of damage, but then he hadn't done you a lot of damage.
And therefore you would live to fight another day.
>>[Franz] Dear Mother, I have now got so used to the life here that
I am extremely sorry that I wrote you such a miserable letter at first.
We neither shoot nor are shot at much. Our occupations consist chiefly of sleeping,
eating, playing chess, writing letters, and reading the paper.
When someone makes music on a harmonica and the others softly or loudly hum the same tune,
really it can be astonishingly snug. You see, it is quite a pleasant life. -Franz
>>"Live and let live" did not save the life of Franz Blumenfeld.
He was killed 11 days before Christmas. One of a million soldiers who died on the western front in 1914.
On Christmas Eve, 1914, temperatures dropped below freezing on the western front.
In some places it began snowing, obscuring the moon.
Then all across the German lines, lights began to appear.
At first, the British thought the Germans were preparing to attack.
But, instead of rifle fire, sounds of singing drifted across no-man's-land.
[singing in German]
>>[Peter Simkins] Germans would be heard singing "Stille nacht, heilige nacht."
The British would respond with a British Christmas carol.
In some places food was thrown over to the opposing trenches.
In one or two instances the Germans erected Christmas trees and there was a kind of mutual curiosity.
And certainly instances of soldiers applauding each other's singing.
>>The curiosity led to something never again repeated on the battlefield.
>>[Simkins] In one or two places on Christmas Day itself, the first curious,
slightly head-strong people perhaps, poked their heads above the trenches.
Being made aware that somebody over on the other side wasn't going to shoot it off,
then clamored cautiously out.
>>One of the first to take part was Captain Charles Stockwell.
>>[Charles] I ran out into the trench and found the Saxons (Germans) were shouting,
"Don't shoot! We don't want to fight today. We will send you some beer."
A German officer appeared and walked out into the middle of no-man's-land.
So, I moved out to meet him amidst the cheers of both sides. We met and formally saluted.
He introduced himself as Count something-or -other. And seemed a very decent fellow.
>>By now these soldiers knew that the war was going to last a long time.
And that many of them would not survive.
The unofficial truce was a chance to bury the dead. At one funeral in no-man's-land,
soldiers from both sides gathered to honor the fallen by reading the 23rd Psalm:
"The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me lie down in green pastures; he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul; he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil."
>>[Fussell] The Christmas truce was the last twitch of the 19th century.
By that I mean it was the last public moment in which it was assumed that people were nice.
It was the last gesture that human beings were getting better the longer the human race goes on.
>>[soldier] December the 26th, at 8:30 I fired 3 shots in the air and put up a flag with "Merry Christmas" on it.
The Germans put up a sheet with "thank you" on it. And the German captain appeared on the parapet.
We both bowed and saluted. He fired 2 shots in the air.
And the war was on again.
[gunshots]