On 19 September every year, crowds gather in Santiago, Chile, to watch a military parade that looks like a scene from another country and another century. The soldiers march in spiked helmets, the bands play Prussian marches, and the officers wear the uniforms of an imperial German army that ceased to exist in 1918. The spectacle is not a reenactment. It is the living remnant of a military transformation that began more than a hundred years ago, when the young South American republic looked halfway around the world for a model of national strength.

Chile had won its independence from Spain in 1818 and soon built a stable but authoritarian republic. Its army was central to that stability and to its expansion. In the War of the Pacific, fought from 1879 to 1883, Chile defeated Peru and Bolivia and seized territory to the north, extending its borders at the expense of its neighbors. The nation that emerged from that conflict was confident, militarized, and eager to modernize its armed forces further.
For a model, the Chilean leadership looked not to its Latin American neighbors but to the other side of the globe, to Prussia and the military system that had just unified Germany under Bismarck. The Chileans had already experimented with French military organization, hiring a French training team in 1858. But in 1881, they sent instructions to their legation in Berlin to find Prussian officers who could retrain the army along German lines. Five years later, in 1886, a French captain named Emile Körner, a veteran of the Franco-Prussian War and a graduate of the War Academy, arrived in Chile with 36 other Prussian officers.
Their task was to reshape the Chilean officer corps at the military academy, and they did so thoroughly. Under their direction, the Chilean army was reorganized into a German-style force: German weapons, German general staff structure, German doctrine, and, just as visibly, German uniforms, parades, and even military music. The visual legacy of that program is on full display in the modern Chilean ceremonial parades. To the casual eye, the formations on the parade ground could easily be mistaken for the army of Kaiser Wilhelm II.
The music played during these ceremonies includes Prussia’s Glory, a march composed in 1871 to celebrate Germany’s victory over France, and the Prussian Inspection March, written in 1820 by King Friedrich Wilhelm III of Prussia. The latter tune is still played during color presentations in the German armed forces to this day, a small but telling connection between the two military traditions. The most iconic piece of the Chilean parade uniform is the Pickelhaube, the spiked helmet that defined the imperial German soldier. Chile first adopted the helmet in 1900, using the Model 1867 pattern, and it is still worn today by the military school, the first cavalry regiment, and the first artillery regiment.
Officers and cadets wear a white horsehair brush on the helmet, while the parade band uses a red-orange brush instead. The helmets still carry the imperial German eagle, though the version used today bears a plate with the Chilean national coat of arms. The original helmets were made in Austria, a tradition that continued until 2006, when the manufacturer went bankrupt. Since then, the helmets have been produced in Eastern Europe, with fittings sourced locally in Chile.
The uniforms worn by the cadets at the military academy are modeled on those of the 10th Grenadier Regiment King Friedrich Wilhelm II of Prussia. The rifle they carry is the Mauser Model 1895, the same weapon that equipped German forces in the era. The overall impression is unmistakable: a parade in Santiago would have been entirely at home in Berlin at the end of the nineteenth century. The German influence did not remain frozen in the imperial era, however.
Other elements of the Chilean military dress reflect later periods of German history. The non-commissioned officers school wears a modified version of the M1935 steel helmet, the German military helmet associated with the Nazi era, and its uniform is directly modeled on the Wehrmacht of the 1930s and 1940s. That same uniform became the image most closely associated with the dictatorship of General Augusto Pinochet, a reminder that the German-inspired military tradition outlasted the monarchy that originally created it and continued to shape Chilean military identity into the twentieth century. The first artillery regiment maintains its own distinctive variant of the Pickelhaube, replacing the usual spike with a cannonball to mark its branch of service.
The unit is equipped with a battery of 19th-century Krupp artillery guns, the same type of weapon that made the Prussian military famous and that Chile had imported decades earlier. The presence of these antique cannon on the modern parade ground is a deliberate display of continuity, a way of honoring the military lineage that the Prussian officers introduced in the 1880s. The transformation brought by Körner and his colleagues was more than cosmetic. The reorganization of the Chilean army along German lines gave the country a professional, disciplined officer corps and a military structure modeled on the most successful land power of the era.
The adoption of German tactics, general staff traditions, and equipment tied Chile into a wider global network of military modernization, one that ran from Berlin to Santiago and echoed through the nation’s politics for generations. When Pinochet seized power in 1973, he did so commanding an institution whose deepest traditions were still those laid down by the Prussian officers nearly a century earlier. The annual parade on 19 September is the most visible expression of that inheritance. As the battalions march past in their imperial German uniforms, playing Prussian marches composed to celebrate victories over France, the scene is a living museum of a military world that has otherwise disappeared.
The Kaiser’s army is gone, and the empire it served collapsed in 1918, but its memory survives in the uniforms, helmets, and music of a nation on the other side of the world. For anyone who wants to see the military traditions of imperial Germany as they once were, the parade in Santiago offers a glimpse that Berlin itself no longer can.