From a Film Correspondent March of Time has made a film on Nazi Germany. It is a short film, running about sixteen minutes—but a very disturbing film.
The Germans are a lovable people. They have simplicity and poetry in them, so that they can make of life something gentle and pleasant and unimportant like a long summer afternoon.
But in this simplicity and poetry is their weakness also, for by their simplicity they are deceived and they develop the singletrack mind of the fanatic; and with fanaticism poetry is a dangerous ally which turns the songs of melancholy and small ambition into brass pretensions, and the love for men into a cold pride and jealousy for race.
It is in this mood with their simplicity and poetry distorted, that you see the Germans in the film.
Vast crowds raise their arms in salute.
Salute to the soldiers who march in rigid line after rigid line, to the multitudes of boys in brown shirts, with their flags and their daggers, their drums and their songs.
Salute to the tanks and armoured cars, the airships and the masses of airplanes, to the wide, white roads relentlessly straight; to the immense steelworks where the metal forever dissolves in the I urnaces.
Salute to• the boys in the labour camp, who work in the sunshine, stripped to the waist; to all the families assiduously saving garbage for the pigs, and sacrificing one meal a week and giving the equivalent of that meal in money to the Brownshirt who calls and says earnestly " Heil Hitler" on entering and departing.
Salute to all the martial music and to the Fiihrer.
They raise their arms in salute, intoxicated by the activity and the noise.
The film has some shots of Berlin and of German homes which partly reassure, for they show the people happy and not being too busy with efficiency to live.
But the general impression is of a nation working intensely and fanatically for—for what? According to the American commentator for war. It is difficult to disagree.