DUNEDIN SOLDIER AT MULHEIM.

Otago Witness, Issue 3396, 16 April 1919, Page 60

DUNEDIN SOLDIER AT MULHEIM.

THE MATERIALISM OF GERMANY. The following letter, written by a Dunedin soldier, displays more than usual introspective. After reading it the reader may naturally ask himself how the great writers, militarists, thinkers, scientists, and preachers of Germany now view the result of the work of their hands in the moulding of their race. The Dunedin soldier paints, on the one hand, a picture of the beauties of the centuries; on the other, the gross materialism of the German race of to-day: Mulheim, February 1.

This will be the last letter written in Germany. Wo arrived in Germany two or three days before Christmas, and since then I have made the most of my time in sightseeing, operas, theatres, and all sorts of things. I have been to Ooblenz, Mainz, Bonn, Wiesbaden, Cologne, and also right up the Rhine on a pleasure boat. I have seen and been in the wonderful dome of Cologne, the finest cathedral I have ever seen. I have been to "Faust," "Pan," and numerous other heavy German operas, and also to soma of the light operas. I have heard the "Tales of Hoffman" played by master hands. I have seen the statue of Hindenburg that the Germans drove nails in to raise money to cany on the war. I paid a visit to Beethoven's birthplace in Bonn, and saw the house where he wrote his "Moonlight Sonata," and also the organ that he played to the blind girl when he was composing it. I paid a visit to the House of Horses, a great German legend, and some day will tell you tho story. I have seen the wonderful baths at Wiesbaden, and have bathed there. Have been through the factories it Loverkusen where Germany controlled the world's dye market. I have listened to legends, hoard beautiful music, seen perfect women. Have sat in cabarets and drunk vermouth and Rhein wine—in fact, I've seen and done everything worth seeing or doing round our bridgehead. I have seen the original eau-de-Cologne, the finest perfume in the world. Have wandered round the banks of the Rhine and have often wished I could paint. It has been a very beautiful stay here and I regret that the people who belong to Germany are Huns. A beautiful country, with marvellous prospects, all destroyed by the beastly people who inhabit it. I can now speak German very well, but it won't be of much use to me, now that Germans are to be forbidden the Pacific. Keep them out for God's sake. There are 70 to 80 millions of them still alive and kicking, and if they don't draw their stings out now, well our great grandchildren will have to start all this Hell over again. They are still to be reckoned with in the years to come. They have the knack of worming themselves in, and if once they got hold of the world's markets again, well, lookout. Commercial success breeds greediness, and they won't hi satisfied. Bitter resentment against the people who settle them will form, and take my word for it, the next time they won't starve them into submission.

They talk at the Peace Conference day after clay—much said and nothing accomplished. I hope they squash Germany, but hone they feed the starving thousands here; they are starving. It is pitiful to see it. Women will sell their souls here for a piece of bread for their kiddies, and some day I'm going to write a book about Germany and their people's natures. They ars immoral, exceedingly so, in fact, but they love their children. They are contradictions, everyone of them. I'm glad they didn't win the war. I 'wouldn't like to see Germany running New Zealand.