The War Begins

Already during the war, when domestic strife and popular protests seemed to undermine the German war effort, the beginning of the war was turned into the myth of the Augusterlebnis, the experience of enthusiasm and national unity in the days following the mobilization on 1 August 1914. But in reality, the overwhelming majority of the German population did not react with unanimous zeal and patriotic fervour to the declaration of war. Enthusiastic crowds gathered on the streets of the big cities, and the capital in particular. But even in Berlin the initial responses to the war were mixed and ambivalent. Curiosity was mixed with anxiety, and no cheerful crowds gathered in proletarian neighbourhoods. In the countryside, a rather depressive mood prevailed. The mostly youthful war volunteers epitomized already for contemporary observers the extent of popular enthusiasm. But their motives were as varied as the popular responses to war. Among these motives, voluntary enlistment as a rite of passage to fully fledged masculinity played a crucial role. The gendered perceptions and reactions to the war are more generally an important and often neglected facet of the Augusterlebnis. Whatever expectations conscript soldiers and war volunteers might have had in the early days of August, not only the realities of machine warfare they faced at the front, but the harsh treatment they had already received in the military barracks often led to a swift disillusionment.

Germany – A Madhouse

Enthusiastic and patriotic crowds gathered on the streets of big cities in the days after the declaration of war. Their readiness to leap into action and to pursue suspicious persons endangered the public order. The chief constable in Stuttgart issued a decree to his force, cited in the BZ am Mittag on 9 August 1914:

Uniformed policemen! The townspeople are going mad! The streets are crowded with old women, both male and female, who take great pains to display disgraceful behaviour. Everyone mistakes the person next to him for a Russian or French spy and considers it his duty to give both the 'spy' and the policeman who is taking care of him a bloody nose. At the least, he draws a huge crowd when he delivers the person to the police. Clouds are taken to be aeroplanes, stars to be airships, the handlebar of a bicycle to be a bomb. There are rumours that telephone and telegraph lines in the city centre of Stuttgart have been cut, about spies who have been court-martialled and shot, about blasted bridges and poisoned waterpipes. It cannot be foreseen what will be happening when times get seriously difficult. It has been established that nothing has happened yet which gives even the slightest cause for concern. Nevertheless, it is like being in a madhouse, although everybody who is not a coward or a dangerous idler is supposed to be calm and do his duty since these times are serious enough. Policemen, just keep a cool head! Be men and not old women and do not let yourself be intimidated. Keep your eyes open as it is your duty! The chief constable.

Robert Gaupp, psychiatrist and vice-chancellor of the University of Tübingen, recalls the beginning of the war in a public lecture delivered in 1916:

And what was happening in August 1914 when the World War was descending on Europe? During those days of general tension and indignation we witnessed the most peculiar forms of mass suggestion, particularly in the large cities. [...] The spy fanatism did manifest itself in bizarre forms, false, deceptive memories and perceptions followed individual suggestions at a great and funny speed. Thermos flasks turned into bombs, the fear of famine caused a pointless propensity to hoard food, banks were stormed, salt was piled up without any sense, gold hidden in stockings. Enemy cars with the French gold treasures were seen speeding through cities and villages. I met a group of educated gentlemen and ladies on the Neckar bridge in Tübingen who were observing planets and fixed stars in the sky as enemy aeroplanes.

The Rheinisch-Westfälische Zeitung reports on 2 September 1914 in a rubric on 'war scenes in the capital city' on another facet of the excited mood:

This is a brand new pastime in Berlin: 'cheering on.' [Abschreien] 'Do you have any plans for tonight?' 'We go cheering on.' A crowd is gathering on busy squares and crossroads and as soon as the people spot a field grey uniform in a car or a suitcase they sound a many-voiced 'Hurrah'! That's how they bid farewell to the leaving soldiers. And the officers stand up and wave their hats. The crowd is waiting deep into the night. They would not go to bed unless they have 'cheered on' at least 25 lieutenants.

The psychiatrist Heinrich Resch from the mental hospital in Bayreuth in Upper Franconia explains the following in a lecture delivered in 1915:

Since the beginning of the war, a great number of articles about mental disorders during the war have been published, both in belletristic journals and in daily newspapers. In the latter case, all articles tend to inform and partly calm the readers down. And there is certainly a need for that. Let's just take the...