A slim, excited equerry climbed and scrambled to reach Old Paul von Hindenburg, who was hunting chamois, last week, high in the Bavarian Alps. Panting, the equerry snapped to a flushed salute before the President of Germany, and held out a telegram. "Urgent! Herr Reichs Präsident!" he gasped.
Fumbling with old fingers the President unfolded the telegram. ". . . MURDERED. . . ." he read, and then a name, ". . . TSCHIRPE. . . ."the name of an old soldier, servitor, friend.
When he looked up from the telegram, the President seemed to become Feldmarschall as of old. Curt...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
