Jena or Sedan?

Chapter 10

(_Uhland._)

During the first days of December Corporal Wiegandt would sometimes observe, in a pause of the drill, that the recruits were beginning to look a little like soldiers; and in the bar-rack-room, after drill was over, he occasionally even went so far as to give them some praise.

When he was getting ready to go out in the evening, and, with sabre buckled on and forage-cap stuck jauntily on his head, brushed his moustache before the little looking-gla.s.s, he would say: "Boys, I am almost pleased with you to-day. I shall tell my Frieda."

Whereupon the recruits would laugh, as in duty bound. They might all hate the corporal; he would not dispense with a fraction of their drill, and did not express himself in a complimentary way during the exercises; but he made things easy for them as far as possible, changing about from difficult to less difficult movements, and giving them long intervals between those that were the most exacting. His division never had to stand for minutes together with their knees bent, like Heppner"s. Moreover, despite his roughness, there was about him a certain kind-heartedness which took the form of good-natured little extra lessons to the least efficient after drill.

His Frieda was a merry industrious girl who sewed muslin in a frilling factory, and h.o.a.rded up the groschen she earned in order to save enough money to be married some day.



And Wiegandt, who, despite his martial appearance, was an ardent lover, added the pfennigs of his pay, and deprived himself of his evening beer, going for walks with his sweet-heart instead, and kissing her over and over again.

"That tastes better than beer," he would say, "and costs nothing."

As the pair had not much to talk of except their lover-like wishes, Wiegandt used to tell the girl about the recruits, so that by degrees Frieda learnt to know all their names and idiosyncrasies, and began to take a certain interest in them. Above all had the case of Frielinghausen appealed to her. The sympathetic little seamstress saw in him something of the romantic disguised prince; and it amused her to make the credulous Wiegandt a little jealous, until at last she would a.s.sure him with a hearty kiss that he was her dearest and best.

When the corporal had gone off to his rendezvous, Frielinghausen was left in supervision of Room IX. The sergeant-major had arranged it thus, in order that from the very beginning the young man might become accustomed to responsibility. And the charge was quite an easy one. By evening none of the recruits had much inclination to make a noise or to get into mischief. All the day-time, from morning till evening, was occupied in the various branches of their duty; and the hours which then remained were completely filled up with the brushing and polishing of their clothes and accoutrements. It they could have done as they liked, they would have gone to bed directly after evening stable-duty; but that was not permitted until nine o"clock.

So when their cleaning up was done and they sat on their stools round the table, most of them would stretch their arms on the top and fall asleep; occasionally some one would scribble a few lines home. When bedtime came at last, none of them tarried; but, drunken with sleep, would tramp one after the other up the stairs to the dormitory.

Some, of course, were more fatigued by the work than others. Vogt and Weise were among those who got on best. Both were strong, healthy lads, and, moreover, not stupid; so that the theoretical instruction was as easy to them as the foot-drill, gun-practice, and gymnastics. To be attentive and quick--that was the chief thing.

Among the worst were Truchsess the fat brewer, the clerk Klitzing, and Frielinghausen.

The brewer, it is true, was a strong, powerful man, but far too slow in his movements. Klitzing, on the other hand, was too weak for the demands of the drill. It was impossible for him, in the gun-practice, to raise the end of the gun-carriage as "Number 3," or as "Number 5" to direct the pole of the carriage; in gymnastics he would hang helplessly on the horizontal bar; and even in the foot-drill it was difficult for him to stand up straight.

When Vogt advised him to report himself as ill he refused. "No, I won"t go into hospital. Never!"

"Why not?" asked Vogt.

"I don"t wish to," replied the clerk; and as Vogt insisted, he said, "Well, Vogt, I"ll tell you: I should never come out again; I should die there."

And with a strained smile he added: "It doesn"t matter where I die; but I shouldn"t like it to be in hospital."

Frielinghausen, though an active and agile young fellow, seemed to be const.i.tutionally flighty and superficial. He had been one of the quickest to pick up a general idea of things; but afterwards the minute details of instruction, which sometimes appeared so unpractical and so apt to make more of the "how?" than of the "what?" would not stay in his head. What difference could it make whether one sprang forward with the right foot or with the left, or whether in pulling the lanyard the right hand had rested upon the left? Surely the essential things were that one should spring over the line and that the shot should go off!

So, despite his honest zeal, he made many mistakes, and the everlastingly warning calls of his name maddened him. In the theoretical work he was naturally far in advance of his comrades; for, despite idleness at school, this was mere child"s play to his practised memory. He, who had had to learn hundreds of lines of the "Odyssey" by heart, could easily remember facts about the bores of guns!

Klitzing also distinguished himself in these instruction-lessons. The delicate clerk possessed another advantage, in his own calling almost surprising, and particularly useful to an artilleryman: that is to say, unusually sharp sight, which found the mark in a moment and took aim with absolute accuracy.

This somewhat atoned to Wiegandt for his other faults, and it was only for Lieutenant Landsberg that Klitzing remained nothing but a scapegoat.

During drill Landsberg generally stood at the end of the parade-ground, looking utterly bored and staring at his boots, which he had had made in the style of Reimers". It was only if Wegstetten was in sight that he troubled himself about the recruits. Then he would run to Corporal Wiegandt"s division, and always began to abuse Klitzing, the "careless fellow," the "lazy-bones."

He was constantly threatening the poor devil with extra drill; but he never enforced the punishment, as that would have meant that he himself must put in an appearance at the same time.

At last Reimers, who was commanding the battery during a brief absence of the captain, put an end to this little game.

"Tell me, Landsberg, have you ever consulted Corporal Wiegandt about that wretched Klitzing?"

"No, sir," answered Landsberg.

Reimers called Wiegandt to him.

"What"s the matter with Klitzing?" he inquired.

The corporal replied: "Beg pardon, sir; the man means thoroughly well and takes great pains; but I think he is far too delicate."

"Very good, Wiegandt," said Reimers, and dismissed him. Then he turned seriously and officially to Landsberg. "I think, Landsberg, you had better leave the man in peace."

Landsberg murmured: "Yes, sir," and looked out for another victim.

During the week the recruits in Room IX. had got to know each other better. The band of comradeship had wound itself imperceptibly around them, and within it some closer, more cordial friendships had sprung up.

The most varied types of men found themselves thrown together.

If, in the evening, the fat brewer happened for once not to be resting his tired body in sleep after the fatigues of the day, he would squat down near Listing, who had been a wanderer and a vagabond. He would listen with many a shake of the head to the stories Listing related of his life on the roads, especially of the nights the fine ones, in which one lay on the dry gra.s.s beneath the twinkling stars, or in the forest under a beech in the branches of which the screech-owl was calling; and of the wretched, rainy, cold nights of late autumn. Then one would pull a few trusses of straw out of a stack and creep shivering into the hole, which would gradually become wet through from the dripping rain, and through the opening of which the east wind would blow in icily.

Then the brewer would clap his comrade on the knee with his broad, fat hand, and say: "Well, friend, it must feel first-cla.s.s to you now when you roll into a good bed?"

But Listing replied: "Well, no. Not exactly. But perhaps I shall get used to it. I have often slept better out of doors; but worse too."

Vogt soon formed his own opinions about his comrades.

The best of them all, the one who put the whole lot into the shade, was without doubt Klitzing. The courage with which the weakly clerk performed his duties filled him with an almost reverential admiration, and the honest fellow was ready to stand by the poor, hara.s.sed lad whenever it was possible.

During the dinner hour, if Klitzing were too much fatigued to go to the dining-hall, Vogt would carry his rations to him, and if possible would add his own piece of meat to the other"s portion. Then he would quickly polish up boots and b.u.t.tons for him and hand him his cap when it was time for the after-noon drill to commence.

"Come, Heinrich, I have made you smart," he would say with an attempt to joke. "Now we shall be all right."

And Klitzing would go down the steps with aching limbs and fall into line.

Vogt"s care for him only ceased at night and began anew every morning.

It was the source both of joy and shame to the clerk; he deprecated it to his comrade, but Vogt shut him up with good-natured roughness. So Klitzing let the matter be, and thought that a mother"s care for her child must be something like this. For he had never known his parents, but after their early death had grown up as the adopted child of some distant relations.

Vogt himself had also the feeling that instead of a comrade Klitzing was more like a child, or, rather, a younger brother to care for; but that suited his strength of character, and anyhow Klitzing was a very different fellow from the gay, clever, Weise, and a far better one.

Weise tried to make himself a favourite with all, but the others noticed that he kept a check upon himself and never showed himself as he really was. Moreover, even when he was alone with them, he evidently felt a certain constraint.

One morning while washing there was almost a quarrel, when Vogt caught him by the arm and tried to examine the tattoo marks on his skin. Weise angrily shook himself free; but Vogt had seen that on the right forearm the words "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity" were inscribed, surrounded by a broken chain and a wreath of flame, and above them something that looked like a nightcap.

His father had never discussed politics with him, but Vogt had learnt enough by himself to recognise the significance of the tattooing; Weise was a social-democrat! Well, that was nothing so very bad. At home in the village there were numbers of social-democrats, chiefly workers in the large fire-clay factory by the river, and they were all very good sort of people. Certainly, such tendencies were strictly forbidden in the army, so Weise must take care of himself.

On the whole this meant nothing to Vogt. He had almost forgotten about the tattooed arm, and the recollection of it was only once forced upon his memory when taking the oath. Then Weise had sworn fealty to the king, raising the arm on which was inscribed the motto of revolution.

His sleeve had slipped up a little, so that the word "Fraternity" could be distinctly seen.

Surely there was some inconsistency here! But then Vogt reflected: how could Weise help the hypocrisy? If he had objected to taking the oath, he would simply have been imprisoned. Weise"s swearing falsely was practically on compulsion; he was in the same case with Findeisen and all the others.

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