A Landjager is welcome everywhere. A Kolsch with the local mayor. A bite of cheese from the farmer up North, so I may overlook some land dispute. (chuckles) A night with the innkeep, whose hospitality is said to be boundless (female giggle in background). But most of all, every day under the sun of the Alps, ranging the vast forests and mountains that are my home.

They say it was Germany, the great ‘Kaiserreich’ that won us the Weltkrieg. I would not know of it. Where I fought, I found only my brothers in the trenches. In truth, relations with our ‘benevolent’ allies have become strained in recent years. Always the Kaisers squabble over this or that Polish province, or the autonomy of the Eastern States.

Ah yes, the Weltkrieg. Perhaps you have come to hear my story of death, blood and valor. Of we held the Isonzo twelve times and twelve times threw back the Italians. How we won, but only after subsiding off what we could ‘commandeer’ from the locals. We were less of an army then, and more of a band of reavers.