We are waging war for ourselves alone; and still we are convinced that all who desire the good would soon be able to rejoice in the result. For with this war there must also end the politics that have frightened away all the upright from entering into intimate relations with the most powerful Continental empire. We need land, free roads into the ocean, and for the spirit and language and wares and trade of Germany we need the same values that are accorded such goods anywhere else.
Only four persons not residents of Essen knew about the new mortar which the firm of Friedrich Krupp manufactured at its own expense and which later, because its shell rapidly smashed the strongest fortifications of reinforced concrete, our military authorities promptly acquired. Must we be ashamed of this instrument of destruction and take from the lips of the "cultured world" the wry reproach that from "Faust" and the Ninth Symphony we have sunk our national pride to the 42-centimeter guns? No! Only firm will and determination to achieve, that is to say, German power, distinguishes the host of warriors now embattled on the five huge fields of blood from the race of the poets and thinkers. Their brains, too, yearn back, throbbing for the realm of the muses. Before the remains of the Netherland Gothic, before the wonders of Flemish painting, their eyes light up in pious adoration. From the lips of the troops that marched from three streets into the parade plaza in Brussels there burst, when the last man stood in the ranks--and burst spontaneously--a German song. Out of all the trenches joyous cheers of thanks rise for the fearless musicmaster who, amid the raging fire, through horns and trumpets, wrapped in earth-colored gray, leads his band in blowing marches and battle songs and songs of dancing into the ears of the Frenchmen, harkening with pleasure.
Not only for the territories that are to feed their children and grandchildren is this warrior host battling, but also for the conquering triumph of the German genius, for the forces of sentiment that rise from Goethe and Beethoven and Bismarck and Schiller and Kant and Kleist, working on throughout time and eternity.
And never was there a war more just; never one the result of which could bring such happiness as must this, even for the conquered. In order that that spirit might conquer we were obliged to forge the mightiest weapons for it. Over the meadows of the Scheldt is wafted the word of the King: