war.

Still, the Wilhelmstrasse propaganda was convincing millions that
the Alsatians received the French very coldly when they invaded the
province to Mulhouse, and that they greeted the German troops most
heartily when they drove back the invader. Indeed, Alsatian
fathers were depicted as rushing into the streets to cheer the
German colours, while their wives and daughters "were so beside
themselves with joy that they hung upon the necks of the brave
German Michaels, hailing them as saviours."

A pretty picture of the appreciation of the blessings of German
rule, but was it true?

Some months later in Paris, when I stood in the Place de la
Concorde before the Monument of Strassburg, covered with new
mourning wreaths and a British flag now added, I felt an
irresistible yearning to visit the closely guarded region of
secrecy and mystery.

On my subsequent trip to Germany I planned and planned day after
day how I could get into Alsace and go about studying actual
conditions there. When I told one American consul that I wished to
go to Strassburg to see things for myself, he threw up his hands
with a gesture of despair and reminded me that not an American or
other consulate was allowed in Alsace-Lorraine, even in peace time.
When I replied that I was determined to go he looked grave, and
said earnestly: "Remember that you are going into a damn bad
country, and you go at your own, risk."

It is extremely difficult for Germans, to say nothing of
foreigners, to enter the fortress-city of Strassburg. Business
must be exceedingly urgent, and a military pass is required. A
special pass is necessary to remain over night.

How did I get into Strassburg in war-time?

That is my own story, quite a simple one, but I do not propose to
tell it now except by analogy, in order not to get anybody into
trouble.

During my last voyage across the ocean, which was on the Dutch
liner _Rotterdam_, I went into the fo'castle one day to talk to a
stowaway, a simple young East Prussian lad, who had gone to sea and
had found himself in the United States at the outbreak of war.

"How on earth did you manage to pass through the iron-clad
regulations at the docks of Hoboken (New York) without a permit,
and why did you do it?" I asked.

"I was home-sick," he answered, "and I wanted to go back to Germany
to see my mother. I got on board quite easily. I noticed a
gentleman carrying his own baggage, and I said to him, 'Can I carry
yo