victory after victory ever nearer to defeat.

Early in the war a Norwegian packer, who had not had much demand
for his sardines in Germany, put the picture of Hindenhurg on the
tins and christened them the "Hindenburg Sardines." When he
changed the trade-mark the Germans bought them as fast as he could
supply them--not because they were short of food at that time, but
through the magic of a name. To-day all that is changed.
Norwegians no longer have to flatter the Germans, who are anxious
to buy anything in the way of food. They flood Germany now with
impunity with sardines whose merits are extolled in the hated
English language, sardines which had originally been intended for
Britain or America, but which are now eagerly snapped up at four
and five times the peace price by people who invariably bid one
another good-bye with "Gott strafe England." I saw the gem of the
collection in a Friedrichstrasse window. It was entitled: "Our
Allies Brand," on a bright label which displayed the flags of Great
Britain, Prance, Russia, Italy, Belgium and Japan.

In Germany you feel that the drama of the battlefield has changed
to the drama of the larder. Hope and despair succeed one another
in the determination to hold out economically while soldier and
sailor convince the world that Germany cannot be beaten. People
laugh at the blockade, sneer at the blockade and curse the blockade
in the same breath. A headline of victory, a mention of the army,
the army they love, and they boast again. Then a place in the food
line, or a seat at table, and they whine at the long war and rage
against "British treachery." Like a cork tossing on the
waves--such is the spirit of Germany.