Schnurrbart scratched his neck, wondering. Probably another of Steiner’s mad notions, he thought. Poking around now in the darkness, as usual.
‘What’ll we do?’ Kern asked. He looked around helplessly at the men’s gloomy faces. The thought that Steiner might not return terrified him. His glance fell upon Anselm’s pale face; Anselm was staring over the fire at the trees beyond. They’re all scared, Kern thought. When Steiner isn’t here they’re all scared. The realization intensified his own fear. ‘Should we go looking for him?’ he asked Schnurrbart.
Schnurrbart tossed a branch into the fire, sending up a shower of sparks. ‘Where would you look for him!’ he answered roughly. ‘He’ll be back. Anyway, you can relieve Pasternack,’ he ordered Kern. ‘And you,’ he turned to Anselm, ‘can relieve Zoll.’
‘Why me?’ Anselm asked rebelliously. He stared at each of them in turn. When his eyes met Krüger’s, he saw the East Prussian suddenly lean to one side, pick up a dry stick of wood and toss it across the fire at him. Anselm avoided it only by throwing himself backward. With the stick clattering against a tree behind him, he jumped to his feet with a cry of rage. Krüger rose slowly. Something in his expression warned Anselm. His aggression died within him; Krüger was twice as strong as he. He contented himself with a glare of hatred and said to Kern: ‘They feel important already.’ Kern stood up without a word.
The men watched them walk off side by side into the encompassing darkness. Dietz turned reproachfully to Krüger, who was sitting down with a grin of complacency on his face. ‘Why do you make trouble all the time?’ he said gravely.
‘Yes,’ Hollerbach chimed in. ‘Dietz is right; all this wrangling is disgusting. I should think we had other things to worry about-’
‘Oh, shut up,’ Krüger interrupted wrathfully. He was on edge and ready to fight even with Hollerbach.
Schnurrbart interfered. He put his hand on Krüger’s shoulder. ‘Cut it out now. It is sickening; as soon as Steiner is gone for ten minutes we go to pieces. Let’s get some sleep now; there’s a tough day ahead of us.’
Kern and Anselm stood some twenty yards away from the camp, talking in undertones. ‘You don’t know how fed up I am with all this nonsense,’ Anselm muttered bitterly. ‘I’d like to walk right out on them. But you wait, I’ll get that boaster one of these days.’
Kern laughed spitefully. ‘In the first place Krüger’s too tough for you, and in the second place where would you go? To the Russians?’
‘I’d like them a damn sight better than these damned boy-scouts,’ Anselm replied.
Kern leaned against a tree and sighed. At regular intervals his stomach made protesting noises. I should have eaten that soup anyway, he thought. He was irked with himself now for not having overcome his disgust, and he began to feel sorry for himself. He took out his handkerchief and blew his nose loudly and lengthily. Anselm snapped at him: ‘Don’t make such a noise—we’re on guard, you know.’
Clumsily Kern thrust the handkerchief back into his pocket. ‘On guard against what?’ he grumbled. ‘Against the mosquitoes maybe?’ His eyes probed the dark woods. ‘Who’s supposed to relieve us, anyway?’
‘I’ll wake Krüger,’ Anselm offered maliciously.
Kern grinned. ‘Won’t he be pleased?’ He paused. ‘Is... he going to make corporal soon?’
‘Of course, he and Schnurrbart; their turn comes up at the next promotions. Listen, when they get to be N. C. Os. we can pull in our tails. They’re all alike. Rank goes right to their heads; that’s the way it is from bottom to top. It stinks. The whole damned army stinks.’ Anselm fell silent and shifted his carbine to the other shoulder. He felt very strongly about the whole matter, but found it hard to think of the right words to express his feelings. For a while he listened to the fading concert of the frogs.
‘What’ll we do?’ Kern asked. He looked around helplessly at the men’s gloomy faces. The thought that Steiner might not return terrified him. His glance fell upon Anselm’s pale face; Anselm was staring over the fire at the trees beyond. They’re all scared, Kern thought. When Steiner isn’t here they’re all scared. The realization intensified his own fear. ‘Should we go looking for him?’ he asked Schnurrbart.
Schnurrbart tossed a branch into the fire, sending up a shower of sparks. ‘Where would you look for him!’ he answered roughly. ‘He’ll be back. Anyway, you can relieve Pasternack,’ he ordered Kern. ‘And you,’ he turned to Anselm, ‘can relieve Zoll.’
‘Why me?’ Anselm asked rebelliously. He stared at each of them in turn. When his eyes met Krüger’s, he saw the East Prussian suddenly lean to one side, pick up a dry stick of wood and toss it across the fire at him. Anselm avoided it only by throwing himself backward. With the stick clattering against a tree behind him, he jumped to his feet with a cry of rage. Krüger rose slowly. Something in his expression warned Anselm. His aggression died within him; Krüger was twice as strong as he. He contented himself with a glare of hatred and said to Kern: ‘They feel important already.’ Kern stood up without a word.
The men watched them walk off side by side into the encompassing darkness. Dietz turned reproachfully to Krüger, who was sitting down with a grin of complacency on his face. ‘Why do you make trouble all the time?’ he said gravely.
‘Yes,’ Hollerbach chimed in. ‘Dietz is right; all this wrangling is disgusting. I should think we had other things to worry about-’
‘Oh, shut up,’ Krüger interrupted wrathfully. He was on edge and ready to fight even with Hollerbach.
Schnurrbart interfered. He put his hand on Krüger’s shoulder. ‘Cut it out now. It is sickening; as soon as Steiner is gone for ten minutes we go to pieces. Let’s get some sleep now; there’s a tough day ahead of us.’
Kern and Anselm stood some twenty yards away from the camp, talking in undertones. ‘You don’t know how fed up I am with all this nonsense,’ Anselm muttered bitterly. ‘I’d like to walk right out on them. But you wait, I’ll get that boaster one of these days.’
Kern laughed spitefully. ‘In the first place Krüger’s too tough for you, and in the second place where would you go? To the Russians?’
‘I’d like them a damn sight better than these damned boy-scouts,’ Anselm replied.
Kern leaned against a tree and sighed. At regular intervals his stomach made protesting noises. I should have eaten that soup anyway, he thought. He was irked with himself now for not having overcome his disgust, and he began to feel sorry for himself. He took out his handkerchief and blew his nose loudly and lengthily. Anselm snapped at him: ‘Don’t make such a noise—we’re on guard, you know.’
Clumsily Kern thrust the handkerchief back into his pocket. ‘On guard against what?’ he grumbled. ‘Against the mosquitoes maybe?’ His eyes probed the dark woods. ‘Who’s supposed to relieve us, anyway?’
‘I’ll wake Krüger,’ Anselm offered maliciously.
Kern grinned. ‘Won’t he be pleased?’ He paused. ‘Is... he going to make corporal soon?’
‘Of course, he and Schnurrbart; their turn comes up at the next promotions. Listen, when they get to be N. C. Os. we can pull in our tails. They’re all alike. Rank goes right to their heads; that’s the way it is from bottom to top. It stinks. The whole damned army stinks.’ Anselm fell silent and shifted his carbine to the other shoulder. He felt very strongly about the whole matter, but found it hard to think of the right words to express his feelings. For a while he listened to the fading concert of the frogs.
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