CHAPTER XVI
THE STARRY BANNER
The boys were all up early on the day when the Olympic games were tobegin. They were thrilling with excitement like that of young soldierson the verge of their first battle. Here at last was the goal of theirambition, the day they had looked forward to through weary months ofeffort, the end of their journey from one continent to another, thefinal port after the long voyage overseas. Here they were to pitthemselves against the best the world could offer. From here the cablewas to flash to waiting friends at home the news of victory or defeat.And they solemnly vowed it should not be defeat.
Berlin was awake, too. The great city, rising like a giant refreshedafter sleep, was full of stir and movement. The very air seemedelectrified with a sense of something great impending. From early dawnthe streets had resounded with bugle calls, as the troops that wereto take part in the great review preceding the games took up theirposition. Staff officers in their gorgeous uniforms were dashing to andfro, and the pavements echoed back the measured tread of the infantryand the clatter of the cavalry. Flags and bunting fluttered everywhere.Excursion trains brought in enormous crowds from other cities to swellthe swarming population of the capital. A general holiday had beenproclaimed and all Berlin was out of doors.
And these vast crowds were swayed not only by enthusiasm but by hope. Atlast the German eagle was to have a chance to scream. The Fatherland hadnot fared any too well at previous Olympic meets. The first prizes thathad fallen to German athletes had been few and far between. It was notthat they lacked pluck and brawn. This they had in plenty. But they hadnot made a specialty of field and track events and they had been forcedto stand aside and see England and America make almost a clean sweep atevery meet.
But in the four years that had elapsed since the last games theyhad thrown themselves into the strife with all the thoroughness andearnestness that were their national characteristics. Not if they couldhelp it would they fail of winning in their own capital with the wholeworld looking on. Sport had become a national craze, and training, likeeverything else with the Germans, had been reduced to a science.
The Emperor himself had rushed into the movement with his well-knowndash and vigor. He was determined that "where Germany sat should be thehead of the table." He had issued orders to his army officers thatwhenever they espied in the ranks a promising candidate he should begiven every opportunity for development; and in more than one case hehad relieved him altogether from military service in order that he mightdevote himself to his specialty. He had hung up costly trophies to bebattled for and had attended many of the meets in person. His own son,Prince Friedrich Wilhelm, was a winner in the elimination sprints, andwould be one of the Olympic contenders. Everywhere there was a spirit ofdeadly earnestness such as had brought Germany to the fore in so manyfields of learning and music and commerce. There were rumors flyingabout of marvelous records made in practice, of wonderful "phenoms" tobe uncovered when the time came. And Reddy voiced what was coming to bea general opinion in the American quarters, that "It's them blamedDutchmen we've got to beat."
Not that this scared Uncle Sam's boys in the slightest degree. Theysniffed the battle from afar like young war horses, and the prospect ofstiff competition only added zest to the coming strife. The fiercer thestruggle the more glorious the victory. As Bert put it: "They didn'twant a procession; they wanted a race." All foes looked alike to themand they faced the issue with a buoyant confidence that was not merebravado, but based on indomitable courage and self-reliance. If theywere beaten--and it stood to reason that in some events they wouldbe--their opponents in every case would have to earn the victory andthey would surely know they had been in a fight.
The fight idea was emphasized by the great military review that passedbefore the Emperor. The crack regiments of the finest army in Europe,marching with the precision of clockwork, made up a parade miles inlength. Every arm of the service was represented--the grim Kruppartillery rumbling along like thunder, the solid ranks of the infantrymoving as one man, the splendid Uhlans and Hussars, superbly mounted. Itwas a shrewd move on the part of the Emperor--whom Dick described as"the best advertising man in Europe"--thus to impress visitors from allparts of the world with the martial pomp and power of the German Empire.While these were to be games of friendly rivalry, and admitting that"Peace hath its victories no less renowned than War," he figured that itwould do no harm to give a quiet hint that, whether in peace or war, theFatherland was prepared to meet all comers. And the shower of cheersthat greeted the troops along the line of march attested the pride feltin their army by the entire nation.
After the review came luncheon, at which the Kaiser entertained theCommitteemen of the various nations, and shortly afterward the tide setin toward the Stadium, where the opening exercises were to be held thatafternoon.
A murmur of admiration rose from the spectators as they poured in thegates of the magnificent structure. The builders had fairly outdonethemselves. It was a crystallized dream. The most brilliant architectsin Germany had been summoned to its construction and given a free handin the matter of expense. As a result, they had erected the finestbuilding in the world designed for athletic sports. Arranged in the formof an ellipse, it extended like a giant horseshoe over fifty acres. Thearena itself was open to the sky, but the seats, rising tier on tier inendless rows, were under cover. The massive walls, made of granite, wereadorned with statues of German heroes, and high over all towered acolossal figure of Germania. The entrances were flanked by mighty towersand beneath the seats was an enormous corridor with dressing rooms,shower baths and every appliance for the comfort of the athletes. In thecenter of the vast arena was the field for the throwing and jumpingcompetitions, and circling this was the running track for the racers.Nothing had been overlooked, nothing neglected. The builders had beenable to profit by the mistakes or omissions of other nations where meetshad been held and they had reared a structure that was the "last word"for beauty and utility.
Through every entrance in one unending stream poured the crowds ofspectators. Thousands upon thousands, they packed the tiers of seatsuntil they overflowed. And still they kept coming.
The Emperor sat in the royal box, surrounded by his family and aglittering staff. At a given signal the bands started up the "Wacht amRhein." The vast multitude rose to their feet and stood with uncoveredheads. Then the choral societies took up the famous hymn, "A StrongFortress Is Our God." The noble music swept over the field and stirredall German hearts with deep emotion.
Then from the pavilions, each delegation carrying its national flag,came the athletes, four thousand in number. They marched in serriedranks down the field and lined up in front of the royal enclosure.Bronzed, supple, straight as arrows, they made a magnificent picture.The Crown Prince introduced them in a body to his father in a fewwell-chosen words, and the Emperor made one of his characteristicspeeches in reply. At its conclusion he waved his hand, the ranksdisbanded, a hurricane of cheers rent the air, and the greatest ofOlympic meets was on.
For ten days the struggle went on with varying fortunes. Every event wasfiercely contested. Nothing could be counted on certainly in advance.Many "good things" went wrong, while others who had only been supposedto have an outside chance carried off the prize. With every day thatpassed, it became more evident, as the pendulum swung from side to side,that the result would be in doubt almost to the last. They fought likewildcats, ran like deer and held on like bulldogs. It was a "fight forkeeps" from start to finish.
In the rifle and revolver competitions, the Americans swept the boards.At every range and every target they were invincible. Crack shots fromall over Europe tried in vain to rival their scores. They were from theland of Davy Crockett and there was nothing left for their opponents butto follow the example of the historic coon and "come down."
In the hundred yard dash, the Americans ran one, two, three. There was aseparate lane for each runner so that no one could interfere withanother. The timing was by electricity and did away
with any possibilityof mistake. The crack of the pistol started the watch and the breakingof the tape at the finish stopped it. The system did away with alldisputes and helped immensely in promoting the friendly feeling thatprevailed throughout the games.
Five points were given to the winner in each event, three to the secondand one to the third. So that no matter which nation won the first,another might win the second or third or both, and thus keep withinstriking distance in the general score.
From the first day, the American score began to climb. But the Germansand Swedes and English were climbing, too, and it became clear that itwas not to be, as in previous meets, a walkover for the Stars andStripes.
In the field and track events--what we understand in this country byathletics--the Americans were vastly superior. The broad jump wastheirs, the pole vaulting, the hurdles, the four hundred metres andfifteen hundred metres runs. Drake won the discus throw and Snyderhurled the hammer further than it had ever gone before.
But there were other features in which we had but few representatives,and in some none at all. The archery shooting went to England. Thejavelin casting with both hands was won by a gigantic Swede. Thehorsemanship contest was carried off by officers of the German cavalry.France took the lead in fencing and Canada captured the long-distancewalk. The horizontal bar work of the Germans was far and away the best,and her beef and brawn gathered in the tug of war. In the bicycle raceItaly came in first, and we had to be content with second and third.
All these events swelled the foreigner's score, and although Americacaptured the Pentathlon and Decathlon for all round excellence, her leadon the tenth day was threatened by Germany and Sweden who were closebehind.
"'Twill be no two to one this time," Reddy grumbled. "'Tis glad I'll beif we come out ahead by the skin of our teeth. We can't seem to shakethem fellers off. They hang on like leeches. I'm thinking, Wilson,'twill be up to you to grab that Marathon, if we're to go back to God'scountry with colors flying and our heads held high."
And Reddy was so true a prophet that when at last the momentous day camefor the Marathon race, the German boar was gnashing his tusks at theAmerican eagle. Only two points behind, he came plunging along, andvictory for either depended on who won the Marathon.
The day before the race a package was delivered to Bert at his hotel. Itbore the American postmark and he looked at it curiously. Within was aletter from Mr. Hollis and a little roll of bunting. Bert unrolled it.It was a torn and tattered American flag bearing the marks of flames andbullets. Across it had been stamped in golden letters: "We have met theenemy and they are ours."
"I've had it a long time in my historical collection," Mr. Hollis hadwritten. "It's the identical flag that Perry flew in the battle of LakeErie. I've had his immortal words stamped on it. It saw one gloriousvictory won for America. I want it to see another. I loan this to you totie in a sash about your waist when you run the Marathon. I'm banking onyou, Bert, my boy. Go in and win."
Bert touched it lovingly, reverently. A lump rose in his throat. "I'llwear it," he said, "and I'll win with it."