1936 On the Continent

well cut black uniform over his brown shirt, indicating that he was a high officer in the S.S., short for Schutz Staffel (Defence Corps). The S.S. is the élite corps of the Third Reich, picked men of the National Socialist movement, who form Hitler’s bodyguard and that of the other leaders of the Reich. The S.S. is increasingly incorporated in the State, and already carries out policing duties. The name “Secret State Police” occurred to me, but I thought it wiser not to mention it. I was not surprised to hear that many other Party organisations wear uniform, as well as the hundred thousand German youths who are now roped in for service, provided with grey uniforms and a head covering like aski-ing cap, and are to be seen in crowds in the streets. So in Germany in one day you see more uniforms than in England in a whole year. Of course, universal military service accounts for many of these, apart from the Party. Children are very uniformed as well, the smallest belonging to the so-called “Young People,” the bigger ones to the Hitler Youth. The girls also have their uniformed organisation, the B.D.M. (Bund Deutscher Mädel).
    Whilst our officers wear civilian clothes when not on duty, the Germans wear their uniforms all the time. In this connection I remember a story my son told me. Some German and English youths were discussing the differences in character of the two peoples, and a young English boy said: “One of the greatest differences is that when an English soldier has finished his day’s work he takes off his uniform as quickly as possible and gets into his beloved flannel trousers. When, however, a German civilian has finished his work he tears home to change his civilians for a uniform.”
    It certainly seems a fact that the Germans love uniforms and are proud of being able to wear them. This, however, has nothing to do with the militarism of old times—it is a leaning towards voluntary organisation and discipline which to us English seems strange and hard to understand, though there is no reason why we should grudge others a pleasure we do not covet ourselves. Especially when a love of uniform is combined with a love of peace, as in the case of my neighbour, the friendly jeweller who declared in every second sentence that no one in Germany desires war.
Hotels
    I realised, however, that the question of where I should stay in Cologne was a more interesting and important one than that of politics.
    This subject had become of general interest in my compartment where six of us sat very comfortably. There were two commercial travellers, who are the best connoisseurs of hotels, and they both took a lot of trouble to give the inexperienced foreigner good advice.
    In half-an-hour’s time I had acquired a most exhaustive knowledge of German hotels. Prices had become cheaperall round during the last year—in the most expensive luxury hotel one could get a good room for 10 marks (or 10s.). Those most characteristic of Germany, however, are not the luxury hotels, though these hold their own with the best of ours, but the numerous good middle-class hotels, excelling in cleanliness and good organisation, which are to be found in every town, even the smallest. It is rare that an hotel in Germany has not running hot and cold water in every room, and central heating is so much taken for granted that it is not even mentioned. Gas heating, which is so common with us, is hardly seen in Germany. (I shall certainly be deprived of my beloved open fire.) The public rooms in the big hotels are generally much larger than in ours, and though they are friendly, convenient and tasteful, they are not so comfortable as in England. Whilst the English hotels try to be as homelike as possible, those in the big German towns are planned more for suitability. Against this, however, the rooms are on the average larger than in the English hotels and the service is organised much more in accordance with the individual wishes of the guests than in England.
Breakfasts
    The question of breakfast needs a special chapter to itself. In the first-class hotels breakfast is hardly ever included in the room price. As the hotel prices are calculated as low as possible, the proprietors feel they must charge comparatively highly for breakfast in order to make their profit. My fellow travellers, two of whom had often been in England, told me, whilst sighing for the English breakfast, that the usual breakfast, which costs as a rule a third of the