and Wilhelmshaven and a girl who played upon a guitar. In all the land there was little or no bloodshed. There were high hopes, shouts of 'Hurrah for Peace!' 'Hurrah for Wilson!' The old authority melted away like early snow beneath a warm autumnal wind.
Thus the revolution entered the gates of Berlin, heart of the Empire, on 9 November.
was born 4 March 1879 in the Bavarian manufacturing town of Fürth. A successful poet, novelist, magazine writer, and newspaper correspondent before World War I, he achieved his greatest fame with science fiction, roughly comparable with similar works of H. G. Wells. His novel The Tunnel was a sensational best seller in Germany when it appeared in 1913, and was translated and published two years later in Great Britain and the United States. His Ninth of November is chiefly interesting for the picture it provides of the naïve and idealistic hopes characteristic of the November period of the German revolution.
from The Ninth of November by BERNHARD KELLERMANN, translated by Caroline V. Kerr
THERE IT IS again. The grinding sound!
The footsteps of marching men! A hundred thousandfold, without much noise, like a people that has broken camp and started out on its wanderings--bent upon its goal--without undue haste, for it knows that the goal will be reached. He is pursued by this step. Day and night the step of the hundreds of thousands passes his window. An army has revolted and is now on the march: An army that has lived concealed somewhere. Where has it been all this time? He has never seen it. Have these men lived in the same age, in the same city? Yes, why has he never seen this army? The multitude of unknown men with eyes which are not the eyes of human beings, but those of wolves, foxes, eagles, and vultures. With faces