by Ivo Andrić
greatestpunishmentwillbetoknowthatyouhavenotshownyourselfworthyof
the confidence placed in you and that at the right moment you were unable to
behaveatyourpostlikeamanandasoldier.Nowgo!'
Not even these words, heavy, curt, carefully enunciated, could bring anything
fresh to the young man's mind. He felt all that already. The appearance and
speech of that woman, the bandit's mistress, the behaviour of Stevan and the
wholecourseofthatshortenquiryhadsuddenlyrevealedtohiminitstruelight
histhoughtless,naïveandunpardonablespringfeveronthe kapia. The major's
wordsonlyseemedtohimtoplacetheofficialsealonallthat;theyweremore
necessary to the major himself, in order to satisfy some unwritten but eternal
demand for law and order, than to Fedun. As before a prospect of unsuspected
grandeur,theyoungmanfoundhimselffacedwithaknowledgethathecouldnot
grasp; the meaning of a few moments of forgetfulness in an evil hour and in a
dangerousplace.Hadtheybeenlivedthroughandremainedunknown,thereon
the kapia, they would have meant nothing at all; one of those youthful pranks later told to friends during dull patrol duties at night. But thus, reduced to a
questionofdefiniteresponsibility,theymeanteverything.Theymeantmorethan
death,theymeanttheendofeverything,anunwantedandunworthyend.There
wouldbenomorefullandfrankexplanationseithertohimselfortocomrades.
TherewouldbenomorelettersfromKolomea,nomorefamilyphotographs,no
moneyorderssuchashehadsenthomewithpride.Itwastheendofonewho
hasdeceivedhimselfandallowedotherstodeceivehim.
Thereforehefoundnotawordtoreplytothemajor.
ThesupervisionoverFedunwasnotparticularlystrict.Theygavehimbreakfast,
whichheateasthoughwithsomeoneelse'smouth,andorderedhimtopackup
hispersonaleffects,handinhisarmsandallgovernmentpropertyandbeready
to leave at ten o'clock accompanied by a gendarme by the postal courier for
Sarajevo,wherehewouldbehandedovertothegarrisoncourt.
Whiletheyoungmanwastakingdownhisthingsfromtheshelfabovehisbed,
those of his comrades who were still in the dormitory tiptoed out, closing the
door carefully and silently behind them. Around him grew that circle of
loneliness and deep silence which is always formed around a. man whom ill
fortunehasstruck,asaroundasickanimal.Firsthetookoffitshookstheblack
tabletonwhichhisname,rank,detachmentnumberandunitwerewritteninoil
colours in German and placed it on his knees, with the writing down. On the
blackbackofthetablettheyoungmanscribbledhastilywithascrapofchalk:
'AllthatIleavepleasesendtomyfatheratKolomea.Isendgreetingstoallmy
comradesandbegmysuperiorstopardonme.G.Fedun.'Thenhelookedonce
morethroughthewindow,relishingthatlittlepieceoftheoutsideworldthathe
wasabletoseethroughitsnarrowframe.Thenhetookdownhisrifle,loadedit
withasinglechargeofballstillstickywithgrease.Thenhetookoffhisshoes
and with a penknife cut his stocking over his big toe, lay down on the bed,
wrapped his arms and legs around the rifle so that the top of the barrel was
pressed firmly beneath his chin, shifted his right leg so that the hole in his
stockingfittedoverthetriggerandpressed.Thesoundoftheshotrangthrough
thebarracks.
Afteragreatdecision,everythingbecomessimpleandeasy.Thedoctorcame.A
Commission of Enquiry was held and attached to its findings a record in
duplicateofFedun'sinterrogation.
ThenarosethequestionofFedun'sburial.DraženovićwasorderedtogotoPop
Nikolaanddiscussthematterwithhim;couldFedunbeburiedinthegraveyard
eventhoughhehadtakenhisownlife,andwouldthepriestagreetoconductthe
service,forthedeceasedwasbyfaithaUniate.
InthelastyearPopNikolahadsuddenlygrownoldandweakinhislegs,sohe
hadtakenasassistantforhisgreatparishPopJoso,ataciturnandnervoussortof
man,thinandblackasaspentmatch.Inthepreviousfewmonths,hehadcarried
outalmostallthedutiesofthepriestandtheservicesinthetownandvillages,
whilePopNikola,whocouldonlymovewithdifficulty,dealtmainlywithwhat
hecoulddoathomeorinthechurchnexttohishouse.
Bythemajor'sorder,DraženovićwenttoPopNikola.Theoldmanreceivedhim
lying on a divan; by him stood Pop Joso. After Draženović had explained the
circumstances of Fedun's death and the question of his burial, both priests
remained silent for a moment. Seeing that Pop Nikola did not speak, Pop Joso
began first, timidly and uncertainly; the matter was exceptional and unusual,
there were difficulties both in the canons of the church and in established
custom, but if it could be shown that the suicide had not been of sound mind
then something might be done. But then Pop Nikola sat up on his hard and
narrowcouch,coveredwithanoldandfadedrug.Hisbodyonceagainassumed
that monumental form which it had once had when he walked through the
marketplaceandwasgreetedonallsides.Thefirstwordthathesaidilluminated
his broad and still ruddy face, with his huge moustaches which tangled in his
beardandhisheavyalmostwhiteeyebrows,thickandbushy,thefaceofaman
who has learnt from birth how to think independently, to give his opinion
sincerelyandtodefenditwell.
Withouthesitationandwithoutbigwordsheansweredbothpriestandsergeant-
majordirectly:
'Nowthatthemisfortunehashappened,thereisnothingmoretobedoneabout
it.Whowithasoundmindwouldeverraisehishandagainsthimself?Andwho
would dare to take it on his soul to bury him as if he were without faith,
somewherebehindafenceandwithoutapriest?Butyou,sir,goandgiveorders
thatthedeadmanbepreparedandweshallburyhimassoonaswecan.Inthe
graveyard,mostcertainly!Iwillsinghisrequiem.Later,ifeversomepriestof
hislawshouldhappentopassthisway,lethimaddoralterashewishes,should
henotfindeverythingtohisliking.'
When Draženović had left, he turned once more to Pop Joso, who was
astonishedandhumiliated.
'HowcouldweforbidaChristiantobeburiedinthegraveyard?Andwhyshould
Inotsinghisrequiem?Isn'titenoughthathehadbadluckwhenhewasalive?
There,ontheotherside,letthoseaskabouthissinswhowillaskalltherestof
usaboutours.'
Thustheyoungmanwhohadmadehismistakeonthe kapia remainedforever
inthetown.Hewasburiedthefollowingmorning.PopNikolasangtherequiem,
assistedbythesacristanDimitrije.
Onebyonehiscomradesofthe streifkorps filed past the grave and each threw
o
n it a handful of earth. While two sextons worked rapidly, they stood there a
fewsecondslongerasifwaitingfororders,lookingacrosstothefarsideofthe
riverwhere,closetotheirownbarracks,roseastraightwhitecolumnofsmoke.
There, on the level patch of grass above the barracks, they were burning the
bloodstainedstrawfromFedun'smattress.
The cruel fate of the young streifkorps boy, whose name no one ever
remembered and who had paid with his life for a few spring moments of
inattentionandemotiononthe kapia, was one of those incidents for which the
townspeople had much understanding and long remembered and repeated. The
memoryofthatsensitiveandunluckyyouthlastedfarlongerthantheguardon
the kapia.
BynextautumntheinsurrectioninHerzegovinahadfizzledout.
Afewofthemoreimportantleaders,MoslemsandSerbs,fledtoMontenegroor
Turkey. There remained only a few haiduks who in fact never had much real connection with the insurrection about conscription but had worked for
themselves. Then those too were either captured or driven away. Herzegovina
was pacified. Bosnia gave recruits without resistance. But the departure of the
firstrecruitswasneithersimplenoreasy.
Notmorethan100youngmenweretakenfromtheentiredistrict,butontheday
they were mustered before the konak, peasants with their bags and a few
townsmenwiththeirwoodenchests,itseemedasiftherewereplagueanduproar
inthetown.Manyoftherecruitshadbeendrinkingsteadilyfromearlymorning
andmixingtheirdrinks.Thepeasantswereincleanwhiteshirts.Therewerefew
whohadnotbeendrinkingandthesesatneartheirbelongings,drowsingbehind
awall.Themajoritywereexcited,flushedwithdrinkandsweatingintheheatof
the day. Four or five boys from the same village would embrace, and then put
their heads close together and swaying like a living forest begin a harsh and
long-drawnchantingasiftheyweretheonlypeopleintheworld.
'Oymymai-ai-ai-ai-den!O-o-o-y!''Afargreatercommotionthanthatmadeby
the recruits themselves was made by the women, mothers, sisters and other
relativesoftheyoungmen,whohadcomefromdistantvillagestosayfarewell,
toseethemforthelasttime,toweep,towailandtogivethemsomelastgiftor
finalsignoflove.Thesquarenearthebridgewaspackedwithwomen.Theysat
thereasifturnedtostone,talkedamongthemselvesandfromtimetotimewiped
away their tears with the fringes of their kerchiefs. In vain it had been earlier explainedtothemintheirvillagesthattheyoungmenweregoingneithertowar
nortoslavery,butthattheywouldservetheEmperorinVienna,andbewellfed,
well clothed and well shod; that after a term of two years they would return
home,andthatyoungmenfromalltheotherpartsoftheEmpireservedinthe
army,andthattheyservedforathree-yearterm.Allthatpassedovertheirheads
like the wind, foreign and completely incomprehensible. They listened only to
their instincts and would only be guided by them. These ancient and inherited
instincts brought tears to their eyes and a wail to their throats, forced them
persistently to follow as long as they could and try to get a last glance at him whomtheylovedmorethanlifeandwhomanunknownEmperorwascarrying
off into an unknown land, to unknown trials and tasks. In vain even now the
gendarmesandofficialsfromthe konak wentamongthemandassuredthemthat
therewasnoreasonforsuchexaggeratedgriefandadvisedthemnottoblockthe
waynorrushaftertherecruitsandcreatetroubleanddisorder,fortheywouldall
return hale and hearty. But it was all in vain. The women listened to them,
agreed to all they said dully and humbly and then returned once more to their
tearsandwailing.Itseemedasiftheylovedtheirtearsandtheirwailingasmuch
astheylovedthoseforwhomtheywept.
Whenthetimecametomoveandtheyoungmenweredrawnupinfourranksin
thecorrectmannerandmovedacrossthebridge,acrowdingandrushingbegan
inwhicheventhemostequableofgendarmescouldhardlyretainhiscomposure.
Thewomenranandtorethemselvesfromthehandsofthegendarmesinorderto
be beside someone of their own, pushing and overturning one another. Their
wails were mingled with cries, entreaties and last moment recommendations.
Some of them even ran in front of the line of recruits whom four gendarmes
werekeepinginfileandfellundertheirfeet,clutchingattheirbarebreastsand
shouting:
'Overmybody!Overmybody!'
Themenlifted themupwith difficulty,carefullydisentangling bootsandspurs
fromdishevelledhairanddisorderedskirts.
Someoftherecruits,ashamed,triedbyangrygesturestomakethewomenreturn
home. But most of the young men sang or shouted, increasing the general
disorder. The few townsmen among them, pale with emotion, sang together in
thetownmanner:
'InSarajevoandBosnia
Everymothermourns
Whohassentherson
AsarecruitfortheEmperor....'
Thissongcreatedevengreaterweeping.
When, somehow or other, they crossed the bridge towards which the whole
convoy was headed and took the Sarajevo road, all the townspeople were
awaitingthem,drawnuponeachsideoftheroad,inordertoseetherecruitsand
toweepforthemasiftheywerebeingtakenawaytobeshot.Thereweremany
women there too who wept for every one of them although none of their own
relationswasamongstthosewhoweregoing.Foreverywomanhassomereason
toweepandweepingissweetestwhenitisforanother'ssorrow.
But little by little the ranks along the road became sparser. Even some of the
peasantwomengaveup.Themostpersistentwerethemotherswhoranaround
theconvoyasthoughtheywerefifteenyearsold,leapttheditchatthesideofthe
road from one side to the other and tried to outwit the gendarmes and stay as
long as possible close to their sons. When they saw that, the young men
themselves.
palewithemotionandasortofembarrassment,turnedandshouted:
'GetalonghomewhenItellyou!'
Butthemotherswentonforlong,blindtoallsavethesonsthatwerebeingtaken
fromthemandlisteningtonothingsavetheirownweeping.
Buteventhesetroublousdayspassed.Thepeopledispersedtotheirvillagesand
the town again grew calm. When letters and the first photographs from the
recruitsinViennabegantoarrive,everythingbecameeasierandmoretolerable.
The women wept for long over those letters and photographs, but more gently
andmorecalmly.
The streifkorps was disbanded and left the barracks. For a long time there had beennoguardonthe kapia andthetownsfolkwentonsittingthereastheyhad
Two years quickly pass. That autumn the first recruits returned from Vienna,
clean,close-croppedandwell-fed.Thepeopleclusteredaroundthemastheytold
tales of army life and of the greatness of the cities they had seen, their talk
interlarded with strange names and unfamiliar expressions. At the next call-up
therewaslessweepingandagitation.
Generally speaking, everything became easier and more normal. Young men grew up who no longer had any clear or lively memory of Turkish times and
who had to a great extent accepted the new ways. But on the kapia they still lived according to the ancient custom of the town. Without regard for the new
fashionsofdress,newprofessionsandnewtrades,thetownspeoplestillwenton
meetingthereastheyhaddoneforcenturiespast,inthoseconversationswhich
hadalwaysbeenandstillwerearealneedoftheirheartsandtheirimaginations.
The recruits went to their service without uproar and without commotion.
The haiduks were mentioned only in old men's tales. The streifkorps was forgotten as completely as that earlier Turkish guard when there had been a
blockhouseonthe kapia.
XIV
Life in the town beside the bridge became more and more animated, seemed
more and more orderly and fuller, assuming an even pace and a hitherto
unknown balance, that balance towards which all life tends, everywhere and at
alltimes,andwhichisonlyrarely,partiallyandtemporarilyachieved.
Inthefaroffcitiesunknowntothetownsmenwhenceatthattimethepowerand
administration over these districts originated, there was —in the last quarter of
thenineteenthcentury—oneofthoseshortandrarelullsinhumanrelationships
and social events. Something of that lull could be felt even in these remote
districts,justasagreatcalmatseamaybefelteveninthemostdistantcreeks.
Such were those three decades of relative prosperity and apparent peace in the
Franz-Josef manner, when many Europeans thought that there was some
infallibleformulafortherealizationofacenturies-olddreamoffullandhappy
development of individuality in freedom and in progress, when the nineteenth