The Prussian Touch

Colonel von Lettow-Vorbeck

'Lieutenant Colonel Paul Emil von Lettow-Vorbeck was every inch the Prussian officer that day he stepped off the German mail steamer in Dar es Salaam harbor and prepared to call on his superior officer, Governor Dr. Heinrich Schnee. He was in civilian clothing, but a military man would have recognized him immediately from his bearing. His hair was cropped short in the Prussian manner and his brown skin lay close against the bones of his face. His blue eyes sparkled as he smiled, but an observer would also get the impression that his baritone voice could be raised in military German that would give goosepimples to an erring soldier. He was the archetype of the Junker officer. There was no wonder about that phenomenon; his father had been a German general and he expected to be a general himself, quite soon if the world situation continued to be as shaky as it had been in the last two years.'

Guerilla: Colonel von Lettow-Vorbeck and Germany's East African Empire, Edwin P. Hoyt (1981)

The Prussian Touch

The Prussian Touch

East Prussia Hunt

Der Alte Fritz (Old Fritz)

Schmiß

Fritz !

Prussian Spirit

Prussian Spirit

Forgotten Land: Journeys Among the Ghosts of East Prussia (Max Egremont)



+   We have not forgotten   +



East Prussia Hunt

Prussian Prototype

All manly peoples today have a bad name; the Prussians are the prototype. In the interregnum, however, it is not mothers but hermaphrodites who prevail.

Alle männlichen Völker sind heut in Verruf; die Preußen sind der Prototyp. Im Interregnum sind aber nicht die Mütter, sondern die Zwitter maßgebend.

Ernst Jünger, Ernst Jünger – Carl Schmitt: Briefe 1930-1983 (1999)

Northlander

They say being a charming, attractive, successful, single chap in modern America is as good as it gets, but I have my doubts. Life in this country today is what I imagine a sentence in a mental institution is like. Unreality abounds. And there is no escaping it.

For the observant outsider, it is a spectacle. That social discourse has been cheapened and confused is most evident in the content on the interwebs, which becomes more meaningless by the hour. In the constant squabbles, the neverending brand marketing, self-promotion, and one-upmanship, modern people resemble nothing less than prison inmates screaming at the concrete walls and hurling handfuls of piss and shit at one another through the bars, cackling and groaning down the cold, half-lit hallways. Anyone can see they are not happy. They are just waiting to be put out of their misery.

Like ripples from a pond-dropped stone, the repurcussions from events of the last year have subsided as the months proceed. It takes time. It is an ongoing process. The key is to press on and stay involved. As you may have heard, my calendar has been marked by a series of obligations professional and social. Yachting activities have occupied an increasing portion of my time this season, not least because sailing takes the mind off other things.

Be assured, I know who I am and where I have been, and therefore, if the moment presents itself, I will love you and respect you and accept you for who you are. It is only those who lack a sense of identity and heritage, who are bereft of self-knowledge, who are the most unforgiving of the other and seek its eradication everywhere.

Abroad beckons. In preparation for the days ahead I have cropped my hair according to the traditional Prussian configuration--#1.5 on the back and sides and #3 on top--and encouraged a beard which even now at this early stage is showing flecks of blonde and red. My face is tanned from yachting days and my blue Nordic eyes, like deep clean sapphires. As always, I am ready for blood.