enough time for military service now, plenty of time. Iâd already spent a lot of time on the preparations. Unpacking and gathering together all the things Iâd hastily stowed away two years earlier. Checking again and again to make sure I had everything. A couple of studs had fallen out of the spiked shoes: I had to take them to the shoemakerâs. There was a triangular tear in the front of one of the shirts: I had to buy a new one.
And I needed some more woollen socks, some spare shoelaces, steel wool to clean the mess tin, a pair of insoles, and all the other things you suddenly feel you must have before you set out on a journey. What would be best to wear under a camouflage suit on warm late autumn days with an approaching cold front promising snowfalls on the Jura heights followed by nasty wet weather? Should I pack two or even three pairs of long johns? Or would it be better to take my jersey pyjamas in addition to my tracksuit? Preparations had to be made with military foresight and precision. Or was it just housewifely fastidiousness?
A mobilisation exercise, thatâs what it said in the call-up.
Provisions sufficient for two days were to be taken along. The only thing the troops would be supplied with in those first two days was hot water.
*
On Sunday afternoon I went to see Father again. Nothing new. I told him that I would be away for the following two weeks.
*
Monday morning found me standing much too early in front of the station. I looked around for uniformed shoulders bearing the same number as mine. Sorting out the sheep into their respective flocks.
In the end there were five of us on the platform. We addressed each other informally as âdu.â As soon as youâre in the army youâre on first-name terms.
What time we had to be there and where we had to go. Where and when was the last time. We reminisced. We reminded each other of the refresher course in Langnau, of the ones in Melchnau, Stans, the Entlebuch. No, he hadnât been in Stans, one of them said, heâd had that one deferred. And how many refresher courses had we been on so far? This was the last one; the first; the second. In any case it was all nonsense, but you got over it. It wasnât too bad, really â on the contrary, just like holidays, honestly. (I preferred not to tell them that I had holidays enough.) One of them explained that heâd be getting a whole dayâs leave; his firm had made the application, he himself had only had to put his signature to it. (Well, the Haller household could manage without me.) They listed the provisions their wives had packed for them for the first two days. (I had had to see to that myself.)
In Rislisberg we changed on to the narrow-gauge train; in Egglen we took the postbus. Each time, a few more soldiers got on.
Schwänglen. The usual guiding-in points. I didnât have to report for duty until a quarter to eleven, so I went to the Bären. Others had also arrived before the time marked on their call-up papers and were sitting there with their white coffee or coffee with kirsch, their beer or grog or mint tea. Civilians dressed up in field grey.
Everything proceeded in the usual way. Pocket ammunition; deposit your military service book; collect gaiters, winter things, your camouflage suit, search for the right size trousers. Gas-mask equipment, individual first-aid kit, trench-digging tools, sleeping-bag. The sergeant allocated the duties. I was assigned guard duty, in front of the gym, left side. A quick change into battle dress. The hurrying had started; soon it would be the waiting.
And the strange smell of the issued clothes was familiar from previous occasions. And the helmet on my head. And the view down over the village, rooftops in the thinning mist. For the first half hour you didnât freeze. The automatic rifle at the ready hanging from the strap over your shoulder: just like in the Lebanon, like on TV. I could feel my shoes
And I needed some more woollen socks, some spare shoelaces, steel wool to clean the mess tin, a pair of insoles, and all the other things you suddenly feel you must have before you set out on a journey. What would be best to wear under a camouflage suit on warm late autumn days with an approaching cold front promising snowfalls on the Jura heights followed by nasty wet weather? Should I pack two or even three pairs of long johns? Or would it be better to take my jersey pyjamas in addition to my tracksuit? Preparations had to be made with military foresight and precision. Or was it just housewifely fastidiousness?
A mobilisation exercise, thatâs what it said in the call-up.
Provisions sufficient for two days were to be taken along. The only thing the troops would be supplied with in those first two days was hot water.
*
On Sunday afternoon I went to see Father again. Nothing new. I told him that I would be away for the following two weeks.
*
Monday morning found me standing much too early in front of the station. I looked around for uniformed shoulders bearing the same number as mine. Sorting out the sheep into their respective flocks.
In the end there were five of us on the platform. We addressed each other informally as âdu.â As soon as youâre in the army youâre on first-name terms.
What time we had to be there and where we had to go. Where and when was the last time. We reminisced. We reminded each other of the refresher course in Langnau, of the ones in Melchnau, Stans, the Entlebuch. No, he hadnât been in Stans, one of them said, heâd had that one deferred. And how many refresher courses had we been on so far? This was the last one; the first; the second. In any case it was all nonsense, but you got over it. It wasnât too bad, really â on the contrary, just like holidays, honestly. (I preferred not to tell them that I had holidays enough.) One of them explained that heâd be getting a whole dayâs leave; his firm had made the application, he himself had only had to put his signature to it. (Well, the Haller household could manage without me.) They listed the provisions their wives had packed for them for the first two days. (I had had to see to that myself.)
In Rislisberg we changed on to the narrow-gauge train; in Egglen we took the postbus. Each time, a few more soldiers got on.
Schwänglen. The usual guiding-in points. I didnât have to report for duty until a quarter to eleven, so I went to the Bären. Others had also arrived before the time marked on their call-up papers and were sitting there with their white coffee or coffee with kirsch, their beer or grog or mint tea. Civilians dressed up in field grey.
Everything proceeded in the usual way. Pocket ammunition; deposit your military service book; collect gaiters, winter things, your camouflage suit, search for the right size trousers. Gas-mask equipment, individual first-aid kit, trench-digging tools, sleeping-bag. The sergeant allocated the duties. I was assigned guard duty, in front of the gym, left side. A quick change into battle dress. The hurrying had started; soon it would be the waiting.
And the strange smell of the issued clothes was familiar from previous occasions. And the helmet on my head. And the view down over the village, rooftops in the thinning mist. For the first half hour you didnât freeze. The automatic rifle at the ready hanging from the strap over your shoulder: just like in the Lebanon, like on TV. I could feel my shoes
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