Part 4: Kriegsakademie. Berlin, Germany. July 4 1914.

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Kriegsakademie Berlin, Germany. July 4 1914.


"Die welt wird deine jungs Kadetts."

Generaloberst Dietrich took a long pull of Schlitzer as if it were a cool glass of water on a hot day. It wasn't his usual schedule to be up this late. Drinking this often. But these nights he found himself near the fire in the commons thinking things over.

These nights that were counting down to calamity.

These nights which were certainly going to be hard to come by if and when Russia declared war.

They were all waiting for it.

He was drinking. And thinking. These nights.

The two Kadetts sitting across from him were up late in the library and saw him as they crossed through the commons and had the balls to request to join him. He rewarded the two Kadetts fervor for their studies and opportunistic tendencies by granting their request. They'll make great officers, he thought.

It was quickly apparent that the taller one of the two, the blonde, was driving their agenda. The shorter one had too many questions in his head.

He was doing his best to eliminate the questions for the young junge. But he was surprised at how difficult it was. Dietrich knew that, ironically, the questions you have as a young Kadett that are kicked out of your head by your superiors tend to creep back in when you get to Diedrich's age and experience. But this was no time for questions.

So Dietrich did what his superiors did for him.

The whiskey helped.

It helped him use the thoughts of his deepest darkest chambers to motivate the young Kadetts. It didn't matter much anyway. Nothing he said here could possibly blow back on him. Both because these two were of such low rank and because in a matter of days Germany would most certainly be at war with two, if not three world powers, and these two most likely wouldn't be around to tell anyone.

Dietrich was going to do anything but talk about that last fact. His job was to do the opposite. To push them toward the precipice and remind them of the glory of jumping. Not out of cruelty or greed, at least not in Dietrich's mind, but to fill them with confidence. Perhaps false confidence, sure. But, paradoxically, that confidence was their only chance of surviving.

"The world will be yours Kadetts. Germany has long suffered and long sacrificed to make it so. And now your generation will reap the benefits. Your privileged generation will receive all that Germany has fought for. Generation after generation."

The Kadetts were quiet. They knew when to speak and not speak in the presence of superiors. Dietrich wondered if they'd ever been in the presence of an officer as high up as he was. He was free to dispense philosophies he knew other high ranking German officers held as well but were too timid to admit.

"Peace has no use. Peace brings out the stagnant, laziness in man. It corrodes loyalty to a higher cause and breads loyalty only to oneself. We need war to tell us who we are. To help us achieve our highest potential. As individuals. As nations. As the human race."

The blonde one's blueish eyes were lighting up. But the other Kadett had a furrowed brow and was gazing at Generaloberst Dietrich's whiskey.

"You. Kadett... Meyer. What do you think?

Meyer glanced at the blonde one for permission.

"Don't look at your fellow Kadett when your Generaloberst is speaking to you. Answer."

He stuttered. Then, "My apologies Sir Generaloberst I mean nothing by my hesitation and confusion--"

"Speak freely boy."

"Oberst Brandt has instructed us to believe that this war... if it is to happen... should be the last one. A last great war."

Dietrich took another drink, and stared Kadett Meyer down. He thought the Kadett may pass out on the spot. But he didn't. He sat there and took it. Then worked up the courage to continue. Which Dietrich respected.

"My father sent me here in peace time because he believed that by being ready for war always, we may prevent war."

"Your father is a fool," The blonde interrupted... Kadett Kohler. He was overly seeking of the approval of Generaloberst Dietrich. Which Dietrich did not respect.

"His father is not wrong in desiring peace. Peace. Hmm. Let me tell you something very important, Kadetts. A secret I've learned. We are always at war. Right now, Germany is at a war of technology. A war with Great Britain over expansion of our navies. A war with France between the growing of our colonies in Africa. A war with the United States over production of steel. And guess what? We are winning. Every time Nicholas summons us to Russia, begging us to sign his de-escalation orders... that we will no longer build the Dreadnought, that we will cease all the technological advancements that we are making... every time he does that it tells us that we are winning."

The Kadetts were mesmerized.

"And they are afraid. They are afraid of the Dreadnought. They are afraid of our new machinery guns. They are afraid of our steel. And only now, when Germany has established itself as the leader of industry and technology, only now our neighbors, who have ravaged our ancestors and their countries for generation after generation... when faced with a new, united Germany that is advancing into a new world that has no place for them... only now they ask us to stop. To make peace. But their peace is not real peace. Their peace is sabotage. Their peace is that we freeze so that they can catch up. So that they can become our equal, then our superior, then our ruler. Is that the peace that you desire?"

The Kadetts shook their heads no, with a look of admiration for Generaloberst. The same look of loyalty that he had for his superiors when he was a Kadett. The same look that told him these ideas were now becoming their identity.

He continued, "No, you don't. For that is not peace at all. Real peace is built on fear. And there is not enough fear of Germany for real peace. Not yet."

Kadett Kohler was transfixed on Dietrich. Then he turned and glanced at Kadett Meyer, who straightened his posture like Kadett Kohler's. They smiled and nodded at each other.

Generaloberst Dietrich finished off his Schlitzer.

Peacetime Schlitzer tasted different, he thought.

It wasn't as good.

In a week or so it would taste better.

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