Glorious Garrisons

German dwellers in the Rhineland, ever proud of their flower-scented golden wines and their square-headed, hobnailed soldiers, have been chafing for 17 long years under Prohibition--of German soldiers.

At first they had plenty of U. S., British and French soldiers. Definitely the apple-cheeked wenches of the Rhineland are open-armed to soldiers. One day last week they could be seen giggling from thousands of windows in such great cities as Cologne, Aachen, Frankfort and Duesseldorf as wild, electric rumors sped that Prohibition of German soldiers was almost over.

The wenches' joy did not exceed that of the Rhineland menfolk. In Cologne the reaction of a dignified German burgher on his way by street car to a funeral in crape arm band and black stovepipe hat was significant. On hearing the glorious rumor, he swung off the street car and bustled toward Cathedral Square, where the first troops were expected to arrive, puffing: "The first soldier I get my hands on is going to get as cockeyed-drunk at my expense as I did when I was a soldier in 1914--and I'm going to get cockeyed with him. Heil Hitler! Thanks be to God. Deutschland ueber Alles!"

At 9:13 a. m. a preliminary squadron of nine German battle planes had come thundering from the direction of Berlin to wheel around the spires of Cologne Cathedral and then melt away again into the blue of the East. Not a word would any Rhineland official say to confirm the report that German soldiers were really coming, but since 5 a. m. grapevine rumor had been spreading through Cologne, making blue German eyes sparkle and apple cheeks flush brighter.

Bursting with excitement, Herr Doktor Oberbuergermeister ("Lord Mayor") Guenter Riesen of Cologne buttoned himself into his sausage-tight Nazi Storm Troop uniform and took his stance, shortly after noon, facing the Square. To Rhinelanders in whose bones is bred Die Wacht am Rhein with its ringing, tingling question: "The Rhine, the Rhine, the German Rhine! Who guards tonight our Stream Divine?" This was the most blissful moment in 17 years. Adam's apples gulped as on three bicycles the very first real GERMAN SOLDIERS, trim lads in grim steel helmets, swerved into the Square.

Then, with the stamping, straight-legged step of geese, came the first of 19 thrilling INFANTRY BATTALIONS and 13 ARTILLERY BATTALIONS who were soon to star the Rhineland with nine GLORIOUS GARRISONS. In Cologne ecstasy was indescribable as soldiers, Soldiers, SOLDIERS with red car nations peeping from their belts came goose-stepping smartly into the Cathedral Square and were reviewed by a real GERMAN GENERAL in full uniform with twinkling medals, Lieut. General Guenther von Kluge. As a climax a tiny Rhineland girl toddled up to von Kluge, gave the general his own big bouquet of red car nations. After this solemn moment all was jollification and singing of "Now we have soldiers again!" in the streets of Old Cologne. One young sprig went about bellowing: "Turn all our fine new buildings into barracks!"

Throughout the exuberant Rhineland this week few if any Germans seemed to give a thought to what might be the result of Adolf Hitler's most audacious stroke in thus openly remilitarizing the "Demilitarized Rhineland" in scrap-of-paper disregard of Europe's most explicit and solemnly ratified treaties. From a wholly neutral point of view, the significance of a Demilitarized Rhineland has been that it interposed between Germany and France for the entire length of their common frontier a zone in which, soldiers having been barred, there could not very well have been battle. There can now be battle and from Paris so careful a journalist as P. J. Philip of the New York Times cabled: "RATHER THAN SUBMIT TO THIS LAST CRUSHING PIECE OF TEUTONISM FRANCE WILL FIGHT."

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