Vienna – Saint Petersburg – Berlin, July 28–August 1, 1914
July 28, 1914.
A single sentence echoed through the marble chambers of the Hofburg Palace in Vienna:
"Austria-Hungary considers itself at war with Serbia."
No trumpet sounded. No parades marched.
Just ink on paper—and the quiet ticking of a doomsday clock.
By the banks of the Neva River, Tsar Nicholas II read the news with dread. Serbia, the brother nation of the Slavs, had been attacked. The empire—his empire—could not remain idle.
That evening, the Tsar signed the order for partial mobilization against Austria-Hungary. But partial was never enough. The dominoes were lined too closely.
July 30.
Under pressure from his generals, and haunted by visions of a humiliated Russia like in 1905, Nicholas ordered full mobilization. The railways began humming. Soldiers boarded trains. War machines awakened from winter sleep.
In Berlin, Kaiser Wilhelm received the news with fury.
"So the bear rises," he muttered. "Then we have no choice."
July 31.
Germany issued an ultimatum to Russia: Halt your mobilization or face war.
It was never truly a question.
August 1, 1914.
At 5:00 p.m., the German ambassador to Saint Petersburg, Count Pourtalès, returned to the Russian Foreign Ministry. He stood before Sergey Sazonov, hands trembling.
"Your Excellency," he said, voice breaking, "Germany declares war on Russia."
Sazonov turned pale. "So this is the end of reason."
"No," Pourtalès replied, as he reached for his hat, "it is only the beginning."
As the ambassador departed, church bells tolled across Berlin. Crowds gathered at Unter den Linden. The Kaiser appeared at the palace balcony in military uniform, flanked by generals. He raised his arm and shouted:
"I know no more parties, only Germans!"
The crowd roared.
But beneath the cheers, a whisper crawled across Europe:
The war has come.
And it would not come alone.