Germany’s Typical WWI Soldier

German Soldiers
German Soldiers in 1915
(Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons, By Rainer Schulze-Muhr )

Think of a typical German soldier in Hitler’s army. You probably picture him as Hollywood portrayed him, and as many GIs found him: grim, relentless, and obedient, with a marked incapacity for independent thought.

A century ago this week, Post readers were getting the same impression of the soldiers in Kaiser Wilhelm’s army. In “Johann Schmidt, Private,” Irvin S. Cobb presented what he considered “a fair and honest likeness” of the men he met while touring the German lines.

For the most part, Cobb wrote, the soldiers of European armies were similar. But a German private’s regimentation and obedience to orders set him apart. Witnessing thousands of these men on the march, Cobb was struck by their uniformity. To the townsfolk of Belgium, the advancing German columns presented “a show the like of which they never saw before”:

What they see is a myriad-legged, gray centipede, which wriggles its way on past them, unendingly. Each section of it, each joint in the weaving gray worm, is exactly like each corresponding segment a mile back or a dozen miles back… There is something unearthly and unhuman about the mechanical precision of the whole thing. …

Johann Schmidt, Private
Read the entire article “Johann Schmidt, Private” by Irvin S. Cobb from the pages of the January 30, 1915 issue of the Post.

I never saw a German common soldier, however employed, who did not seem to know exactly what he was doing; and I never saw one who seemed to know why he was doing it. … The order came. Somebody else had thought it out. Somebody else always had thought it out — that was that somebody’s business — not his. He individually had been relieved of the function of thinking any thoughts upon the subject.

The same iron discipline, which ironed the creases out of his back ironed the convolutions out of his brain, in so far as his present job was concerned. It endowed him with steel leg muscles and a wooden headpiece. … I found him fairly well informed, considering his limitations, upon outside matters. Officially and professionally he was a mental blank, and nothing else.

An incidental result was that it deprived him of his sense of humor. He didn’t laugh in public, because it was not set down in the manual that he should laugh. …

He has learned to endure things the mere thought of which a little while ago would have sickened him to the hobs of his soul. … He looks upon the waste and wreckage about him with indifferent eyes. He has learned to care for nothing at all except the cause he serves and the orders he obeys.

He is still the Johann Schmidt who does not know how to disobey. A command comes to him which may be in truth his death warrant. He salutes and heaves up his rifle — that at least is clean and fit for use — and as he starts upon his errand I hear him rumble out the two words with which I shall always associate him: “Ja wohl!”

Post Script:

Fifteen years before Cobb’s article, the Post published “Three Men on Four Wheels,” by British humorist Jerome K. Jerome. In his account of a bicycle tour through Germany, he gave impression of the German people. Like Cobb, and other American and British writers, Jerome found the people of Imperial Germany to be an incredibly regimented people:

Three Men on Four Wheels
Read the entire article “Three Men on Four Wheels” by Jerome K. Jerome from the pages of the April 7, 1900 issue of the Post.

The German citizen is a soldier, and the policeman is his officer. The policeman directs him where in the street to walk, and how fast to walk. At the end of each bridge stands a policeman to tell the German how to cross it. Were there no policeman there, he would probably sit down and wait till the river had passed by. At the railway station the policeman locks him up in the waiting-room, where he can do no harm to himself. When the proper time arrives, he fetches him out and hands him over to the guard of the train, who is only a policeman in another uniform. … In Germany you take no responsibility upon yourself whatever. Everything is done for you, and done well.

Their everlasting teaching is Duty. It is a fine ideal for any people; but before buckling to it one would wish to have a clear understanding as to what this Duty is. The German idea of it would appear to be, “Blind obedience to everything in button.


Step into 1915 with a peek at these pages from The Saturday Evening Post January 30, 1915 issue.

Cover Collection: The Art of Work

“A man is a worker. If he is not that, he is nothing.” – Joseph Conrad

Work! Some people claim to love it. Others vow they hate it. Some are notably better acquainted with it than others, but we won’t name names.

“What work I have done, I have done because it has been play. If it had been work, I shouldn’t have done it,” Mark Twain said.

Thomas Edison observed, “As a cure for worrying, work is better than whiskey.”

The British humorist, Jerome K. Jerome, summed up many peoples’ view on the subject: “I like work. It fascinates me. I can sit and look at it for hours.”

Which brings us to our famous cover artists. From a place of relative safety behind their easels, unfettered by nine-to-five jobs and the usual drudgery (except when their wives pulled them away to put up storm windows), they were free to sit back and observe the American “workscape” in all its glory, from window washers and sign painters to plumbers and construction workers.

They even turned a lady riveter into the most famous cover girl of all.

In keeping with the theme of this issue, we put our own shoulders to the task and created this tribute to the art of work. Now we’re going to take a break while you sit back and enjoy it.

The laurel wreaths in the corners tell the story. It was the working man who deserved the credit for making America great, as artist Joseph J. Gould made clear in his turn-of-the-century Post cover.
The laurel wreaths in the corners tell the story. It was the working man who deserved the credit for making America great, as artist Joseph J. Gould made clear in his turn-of-the-century Post cover.
Rockwell knew Post readers would empathize with this pair of plumbers rather than with the uppity owner of the fancy boudoir. He hired two actual plumbers as models and asked them to bring their tools along.
Rockwell knew Post readers would empathize with this pair of plumbers rather than with the uppity owner of the fancy boudoir. He hired two actual plumbers as models and asked them to bring their tools along.
How praise worthy is this lad who thinks first and last of his work, and only wants to make sure that all work and no play does not make Jack a dull boy? When called to comment on this painting, artist Dohanos wasn't home.
How praise worthy is this lad who thinks first and last of his work, and only wants to make sure that all work and no play does not make Jack a dull boy? When called to comment on this painting, artist Dohanos wasn’t home.
Artist Ski Weld captured the drama of real work in America in his 1930s and 40s Post cover paintings. Here he depicts the smoke and grit of a strip mine-somehow transforming it all into a work of beauty.
Artist Ski Weld captured the drama of real work in America in his 1930s and 40s Post cover paintings. Here he depicts the smoke and grit of a strip mine-somehow transforming it all into a work of beauty.
Thsi isn't a self-portrait, but we are pretty sure artist Stevan Dohanos coul identify with this fellow painter. Some jobs just seem designed to lull a guy to sleep, and all those subliminal mesages don't help either.
This isn’t a self-portrait, but we are pretty sure artist Stevan Dohanos could identify with this fellow painter. Some jobs just seem designed to lull a guy to sleep, and all those subliminal messages don’t help either.
Who, including der Fuehrer himself, would dare to mess with Norman Rockwell's Rosie the Riveter? Rockwell;s model was 19-year-old Arlington, Vermont, telephone operator Mary Doyle. The artist later apologized to Mary for adding substantial weight to her slender figure.
Who, including der Fuehrer himself, would dare to mess with Norman Rockwell’s Rosie the Riveter? Rockwell’s model was 19-year-old Arlington, Vermont, telephone operator Mary Doyle. The artist later apologized to Mary for adding substantial weight to her slender figure.
Work can sometimes have its perks, as Norman Rockwell's "fresh" young window washer is well aware. We have to give the daring fellow credit, suspended as he is 10 stories up. Meanwhile, Miss Shapely may have missed a few lines of dictation, but her boss, J.J. Fuddy of Fuddy & Duddly, hasn't even noticed.
Work can sometimes have its perks, as Norman Rockwell’s “fresh” young window washer is well aware. We have to give the daring fellow credit, suspended as he is 10 stories up. Meanwhile, Miss Shapely may have missed a few lines of dictation, but her boss, J.J. Fuddy of Fuddy & Duddly, hasn’t even noticed.