Of course no one thought of anything except of attacking the enemy. It lies in the instinct of every German to rush at the enemy wherever he meets him, particularly if he meets hostile cavalry.
Everything depends on whether we have for opponents those French tricksters or those daring rascals, the English. I prefer the English. Frequently their daring can only be described as stupidity. In their eyes it may be pluck and daring.
I honored the fallen enemy by placing a stone on his beautiful grave.
We convinced him quickly that the possibility of war was absolutely nil and continued our festivity. On the next day we were ordered to take the field.
In the heat of the Russian summer a sleeping car is the most horrible instrument of martyrdom imaginable.
I have had an experience which might perhaps be described as being shot down. At the same time, I call shot down only when one falls down. Today I got into trouble but I escaped with a whole skin.
