- Project Runeberg -  With the German Armies in the West /
27

(1915) [MARC] Author: Sven Hedin - Tema: War
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ON THE WAY TO THE FRONT 27
And this people, which has produced Goethe, and which now
with honour and splendid courage fights on half a dozen
fronts, has by the press of many countries and in fact entire
nations been called a people of barbarians !
But let us continue our trip along the great highway ;
it is now lined for a long distance with plum trees where women
and girls on ladders are seen picking the great violet fruit
and collecting it in baskets drawn on small barrows by dogs.
On the whole we do not see many people, apart from the
handful of peasants driving hay home in their carts drawn by
cows, and a few women mowing the grass on banks and
meadows.
Next we come to Erfurt, a town which like so many others in
these parts is memorable to us Swedes. At " The Tall Lily
"
Gustavus Adolphus spent one night of his great life. It was
the night between the 28th and 29th October, 1632, after the
assembling of the Swedish Army which a few days later was
to fight and conquer at Liitzen. At Erfurt one also thrills
with pride at the memory of Field-Marshal Johan Baner.
Here, as everywhere, the Landsturm soldiers sing as they
march along. We lose ourselves in the labyrinth of old-
world streets, and not even my experienced guide von Krum
is able to find his way. " Which way to Gotha ?
" we cry at
every street corner, and the answer comes quickly, rechts,
links or gerade aus. At last we work our way out of
the tangle and fly along towards Gotha, the city of Justus
Perthes and the Almanach de Gotha. Here it is easy to find
the way, and before we know where we are we find ourselves
once again dashing along through avenues of tall, graceful
poplars towards Eisenach.
On our left the ground rises towards the rain-shrouded,
misty ridges of the Thiiringer Wald, but the road itself runs
through smiling villages with their picturesque houses of the
timber framework type, where cackling geese and clucking
turkeys sometimes do their best to get run over or at all events
to hamper our progress. At every bridge we come to, we
receive a smart military salute from the sentries. We spin
along at a lightning pace to Eisenach, and are as quickly out of
it. The road now turns sharp to the south-west and by a series
of gentle curves ascends the heights of the Thiiringer Wald. On
both sides of the road is a fine wood of lofty pines. I could
almost fancy that I had been transplanted to certain parts of

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