Punch/Volume 147/Issue 3821/Our Dumb Enemies
Although the German army already owes much of its efficiency to useful hints garnered from the animal kingdom—such as the goose-step, which has been employed with such conspicuous success in the streets of Brussels—we were hardly prepared for the far-reaching mobilisation of the more familiar mammals which is more foreshadowed. It is true that we had already been much impressed by the Kaiser's threat to continue the war to the last breath of man and horse, but it is none the less startling to learn, on American authority, that the German Government would, at a pinch, be prepared to arm every cat and dog in the Empire. It will thus be open to the future historian to speak of "the cats of war."
There is another branch of the community which should not be overlooked—if the Kaiser is willing to take a suggestion—in the form of the domestic cattle of the Fatherland. These, we believe, are admirably adapted to attack in close formation upon entrenched positions. And much might be done with the rats from the cellars of Munich—than which no finer natural warriors exist.
But the new menace must be met. Fortunately, if zoological warfare is to become an accomplished fact, the British Empire had great untapped resources. It is rumoured that a Camel Corps ahs been despatched from India already, and a squadron of elephants should be a match for a whole Army Corps of dachshunds.
On the whole we welcome the new departure. It may lead—who knows?—to the establishment of a higher standard in German civilized warfare.
An interesting light has been thrown on this new mobilisation by a letter concealed in the whiskers of the captured mascot (a Tortoiseshell) of a Bavarian regiment. It runs as follows:—
Potsdam.
(Can't divulge address.)
Dear Gretchen,—Awful bad luck for poor Schneider. He went to enlist and was told to register! Of course he's got a streak of the Persian in him on his mother's side, and used to brag about it, as we all know; but now it's done him in the eye, and he's fairly mad. Carl is in the commissariat and tells me we've got three million tins of sardines; so that’s all right as far as it goes; but, if there's any weakness in the victualling department, I shall be the first to leave the colours.
They're making one huge mistake. The dogs are called out too. You know what German dogs are—sausage-food, we call them. Of course they'll be cut up and give the show away. But, if they're in the first line with us behind them, they'll have to fight somebody.
Albrecht is in the Royal Blacks (Empress's own). Max has joined the 3rd Tabbies, and I've got a command in the 10th Tortoiseshells.
Your one and only
Puss in Prussians.
P.S.—It's a joke with the Tabby regiments that they're got their stripes already.