_Berne, Saturday, November 28th._ Donait and I left Paris at nine last
evening for Lyons, Culoz, and Geneva with dispatches for Berlin. For
many reasons we are particularly anxious to see Germany and Austria in
war time, and look forward keenly to the experience which we face.
We arrived in Geneva at noon. We were very tired, for our train and
compartment were overcrowded and we had to sit up all night. The
responsibility of the sack of official papers which we carried, and on
which one of us had constantly to keep his mind, hand, and eyes, was an
additional element of fatigue.
* * * * *
Our legation in Berne has always been the most isolated, humdrum spot
on earth. People stationed here nearly died of ennui; nothing ever
happened, until all Europe suddenly was plunged into the conflagration
of war, and then Berne became, of necessity, the clearing house for
the continent for dispatches, mail, telegrams, money, prisoners, and
refugees. Every telegram which the American Embassy in Paris sends to
the Embassies in Germany, Austria, or Italy is directed: "American
Legation, Berne. Repeat to Gerard"--or Penfield or Page, as the case
may be....
Donait and I were sent by Minister Stovall to make a verbal report on
the situation of the Germans in France to Baron Romberg, the German
Minister to Switzerland. I was much impressed in this my first touch
with a German official. He is rather small, slim of body, but keen of
mind, with excellent repose and control. Like all German diplomats, he
speaks faultless English. A startling evidence of the efficiency of the
German Information Bureau was furnished by the fact that he already
knew to the minutest details nearly as much about my work in Paris in
caring for German subjects as did I myself.
_Tuesday, December 1st._ We reached the Swiss-German frontier at noon
to-day. We descended from the train at Basle and drove three miles to
the frontier. Here there were two barriers straight across the road,
the nearer one guarded by numerous Swiss soldiers; the farther, some
twenty yards behind, by soldiers wearing the spiked helmet. Before we
were allowed to pass the first barrier our papers and luggage were
minutely examined by Swiss military and customs officers. We then
walked across the twenty yards to the second, or German, barrier, where
we were conducted into a little guard-house. Here some dozen soldiers
were sleeping or playing cards on cots in the background along the
walls. An efficient sergeant examined our papers and then allowed us to
pass the second barrier into Germany, showing marked respect for the
Herr Lieutenant and the Herr Attaché....
I was momentarily embarrassed and self-conscious when first I found
myself rubbing shoulders with gentlemen in spiked helmets. During the
past four months I had seen them only as prisoners or dead men, and
their only greetings had been by way of their shells and bombs....