ToDAY it seems to me providential that
Fate should have chosen Braunau on the Inn as my birthplace.
For this little town lies on the boundary between two German
states which we of the younger generation at least have made it
our life work to reunite by every means at our disposaL
German-Austria must return to the great German mother
country, and not because of any economic considerations. No,
and again no: even if such a union were unimportant from an
economic point of view; yes, even if it were harmful, it must
nevertheless take place. One blood demands one Reich. Never
will the German nation possess the moral right to engage in
colonial politics until, at least, it embraces its own sons within a
single state. Only when the Reich borders include the very last
German, but can no longer guarantee his daily bread, will the
moral right to acquire foreign soil arise from the distress of our
own people. Their sword will become our plow, and from the
tears of war the daily bread of future generations will grow.
And so this little city on the border seems to me the symbol of a
great mission. And in another respect as well, it looms as an
admonition to the present day. More than a hundred years ago,
this insignificant place had the distinction of being immortalized
in the annals at least of German history, for it was the scene of a
tragic catastrophe which gripped the entire German nation. schovat popis