Tags:
Fiction,
Literary,
Historical,
History,
German,
Literary Criticism,
European,
Military,
War & Military,
World War; 1914-1918,
World War I
of his wife!" murmured Valentin.
"Look out, here comes Schröder," Jupp called to us as he let the waterproof slide.
"Shut your mouth!" hissed Broger.
Kosole still had the body in his arms. "Who?" he asked uncomprehending.
"Schröder," repeated Jupp, supposing Ferdinand knew already.
"Don't be funny, you bloody fool I he was captured," growled Kosole angrily.
"It is, Ferdinand," said Albert Trosske, who was standing near-by.
We held our breath. Kosole gathered up the body and climbed out. He took his torch from his pocket and shone it upon the corpse. He stooped down close over what was left of the face and examined it.
"Thank God, the S.M.'s gone," whispered Karl.
We stood motionless through the next seconds. Kosole straightened himself up. "Give's a shovel," said he sharply. I handed him one. We expected bloody murder. But Kosole merely began to dig. Allowing none to help him he made a grave for Schröder apart. He placed him in it himself. He was too stricken to think of Seelig.
By dawn both graves were finished. The wounded man had died in the meantime, so we put him in with the rest. After treading the ground firm we set up the crosses. With a copying-pencil Kosole wrote Schröder's name on one that was still blank, and hung a steel helmet on top of it.
Ludwig came once more. We removed our helmets and he repeated a second Paternoster. Albert stood pale beside him. Schröder used to sit with him at school. But Kosole looked terrible. He was quite grey and decayed, and said never a word.
We stood about yet a while and the rain fell steadily. Then the coffee fatigue came and we sat down to eat.
As soon as it was light the sergeant-major came up out of a dugout near-by. We supposed he had been gone long ago. He stank of rum for miles and now only wanted to get back to the rear. Kosole let out a bellow when he saw him. Luckily Willy was by. He sprang at Kosole and held him fast. But it took four of us all our strength to keep him from breaking loose and murdering Seelig. It was a full hour before he had sufficiently recovered his senses to see that he would only make trouble for himself if he went after him. But by Schröder's grave he swore to get even with Seelig.
Now there stands Seelig at the bar, and not five yards from him sits Kosole. But neither is a soldier any longer.
For the third time the orchestrion thunders out the march from The Merry Widow .
"Another round of schnapps, mate," cries Tjaden, his little pig's eyes sparkling. "Coming up!" answers Seelig, bringing the glasses. "Health, comrades!"
Kosole looks at him scowling.
"You're no comrade of ours," he grunts. Seelig takes the bottle under his arm. "No? Very well then—that's that," he retorts and goes back behind the bar.
Valentin tosses down the schnapps. "Soak it up, Ferdinand," says he, "that's the main thing."
Willy orders the next round. Tjaden is already half tight. "Well, Seelig, you old blighter," he bawls, "no more field punishment now, eh? Have one with me!" He slaps his former superior officer so heartily on the back that it nearly chokes him. A year ago that would have been enough to land him for court-martial, or in a mad-house.
Kosole looks from the bar to his glass and from his glass back again to the bar, and at the fat, obsequious fellow behind the beer pumps. He shakes his head. "It's not the same man, you know, Ernst," he says.
So it seems to me also. I hardly recognise Seelig now. In my mind he was so much of one piece with his notebook and his uniform, that I could hardly even have imagined what he would look like in his shirt, to say nothing of this bar-tender. And now here he is fetching a glass for himself, and letting Tjaden, who used to be of less account to him than a louse, slap him on the back and call him "Old fellow-my-lad!"—Damn it, but the world is clean upsidedown!
Willy gives Kosole a dig in the ribs to stir him up. "Well?"
"I don't know, Willy," says Ferdinand bewildered. "Think I ought to give
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