Fritz and Eric

by John C. Hutcheson

  CHAPTER FOUR.

  AFTER THE BATTLE.

  During the height of the struggle, Fritz had been carried away by aperfect delirium of excitement, as if in a dream; and what he had donehad been done almost unconsciously, in spite of himself, and on the spurof the moment. He had been marched here; marched there; halted; orderedto fire; charged with his comrades; retreated; charged again--all, as itseemed, in one brief second of time!

  What, with the continuous roar of artillery reverberating through thesurrounding hills; the constant ping; pinging and singing of riflebullets; the rattling discharge of platoon firing; the whirring of heavyshot and shell through the air above the ranks and the bursting everynow and then of some huge bomb in their midst, knocking down the menlike ninepins and sending up a pyramid of dust and stones, mingled withparticles of their arms and clothing, as well as fragments of the tornflesh of some victims, on the missile exploding in a sheet of cracklingflame, with a rasping, tearing noise--all combined with the thicksulphureous cloud of gunpowder which hung over the battlefield, halfasphyxiating the combatants, whose hoarse cries of rage and hatred couldbe heard above the noise of the cannon and discharges of musketry, mixedup with the words of command of their different officers, the "_Enavant, mes amis_!" of the French, the stern "_Vorwarts_!" of theGermans, and the occasional wild, weird, frenzied scream of somestricken charger echoing shrilly in the distance, like the wail of alost soul in purgatory--the whole realised a mad riot of destruction andcarnival of blood, the essence of whose moving spirit appeared to takepossession of each one engaged, rendering him unaccountable for hisactions for the time being. Like the rest, Fritz felt the "war fever"upon him. A red mist hovered before his eyes. He smelt blood andlonged to spill more. The fumes of brimstone acted on his senses likehasheesh to narcotic smokers. An irresistible impulse urged himforwards. A voice kept crying in his ears, "Kill and slay, and sparenot!"

  This was while the fury of the combat lasted, when the Prussianbattalions were hurling their human waves in columns against the rockydefences of Gravelotte, only for them to fall back impotently, like thebroken foam and spent wash of billows which have assailed in vain theprecipitous peaks of some cliff-defended coast that repels their everyattack; when the sharp clash of steel met opposing steel and gallopingthud of flying squadrons, urged on with savage oath and triumphantcheer, filled the air; when the gurgling groan of the death-agony andmoan of painless pain, made the treble of the devil-music, to thethundering sustained bass of the cannon roar, and the growling arpeggioaccompaniment of the mitrailleuse!

  But, when, after one last fearful combined volley, in which every singlepiece of ordnance on the field seemed to take part, the hideous turmoilof sound ceased as if by mutual consent. A sort of solemn hush, incompany with the night, caused comparative stillness to brood over thescene, in contrast to the pandemoniacal noise that had previouslyreigned so fiendishly. Then, all of a sudden, Fritz appeared to awakesuddenly from a disturbed dream or phantom-haunted night-mare, in whichall the powers of evil were tearing at his heart and brain. The warfever, for him, had exhausted its final paroxysm. The red mist had beenwithdrawn from his eyes. The thirst for blood from his soul. He washimself again; but a strangely altered self, for he felt weak and ill,and as languid and worn-out as if he had just recovered from a faintingfit.

  It was at this moment that Hermann his comrade had been struck down by achassepot ball, winging its murderous mission from some unknown point;and when Fritz had sat down by the side of the body, covering over theface of the dead man, he did not seem to feel any desire to live or evento rise up again, he was so utterly powerless and lacking in energy.The majority of his fellow-soldiers appeared, too, to be in the samemood, stretching their weary limbs on the ground in listless apathy, asif caring for nothing; they did not either seem to be affected by hungeror thirst, although it was more than twelve hours since they had brokentheir fast; the fury of the fight had satiated them, taking away allstamina and appetite.

  Presently, however, an ambulance detachment, passing by on theirmerciful errand to seek for the wounded, besought aid; and Fritz, withothers, at once sprang up and volunteered assistance to bear away thoseto whom the surgeon's care could do any good to the field hospitals,where their hurts could be attended to in a general way. The number ofwounded men was so great that it was simply impossible for the doctorsto hunt after individual cases and treat them properly.

  The battlefield was now covered by a dense cloud, illuminated at eitherend of the valley in which it lay by two enormous fires of burninghouses. But, above, the stars shone down peacefully from the blue vaultof heaven on the terrible picture of carnage below; and, as the smoke ofthe gunpowder cleared away, the different points of the struggle couldbe clearly picked out by reason of the heaps of corpses and dead horses,piled beneath overturned cannon and broken limbers, shattered needle-guns and chassepots, all of which were scattered around pell-mell inendless profusion.

  "Water, water, for the love of God!" was the heartrending cry thatproceeded everywhere from yet living men hidden among hecatombs of theslain, as they heard the footsteps of the ambulance corps and theirhelpers. Really, the task was an endless one, to try to relieve themisery around; for, hardly had one wounded wretch been saved from beingburied alive in the mountain of dead under which he writhed, than anappeal for aid was heard in another direction--and yet again another,until the bearers and relief corps themselves became exhausted. Eachrequired forty pairs of hands instead of one!

  It was terrible work to go over the scene of slaughter in cold blood,with no fever of excitement to blot out the hideous details, nowdisplaying themselves in all their naked reality! Conspicuously, infront of La Villette, were to be seen the white trimmings of theuniforms of the Prussian Imperial Guards; the red trousers of the Frenchline; the shining helmets of the cuirassiers, whose breastplates wereall torn and dented with shot, as if they had been ploughed over; whilethe wind, now rising as the night progressed towards morning, rustledthe myriad leaves of white paper that had escaped from out of the Frenchstaff carriages, blowing them across the valley, like a flock of sea-gulls fluttering on the bosom of the breeze.

  As the day broke, the bright beams of the rising sun lit up the field ofbattle, only to disclose its horrors the more unmistakably. The rays oflight, flashing on the exposed sword blades and bayonet points,reflected little radiant gleams of brightness; but, the hands of thosewho wielded them so valiantly not many hours agone were now cold andcramped in the agony of death, alas! Sad bruised eyes glared out fromdisfigured faces under torn-open breasts, appearing to look up to wherethe stars only so recently twinkled down, vainly asking Providence whyit had put the lightning into the hands of man for so fell a purpose!Rows of infantry lay dead in perfect order, as if on parade, where themitrailleuse had mowed them down; whole squadrons of hussars and lancerswere heaped up in mass; and, in some of the French rifle-pits, therewere more than a thousand corpses piled, the one on top of another withtrim regularity, as if carefully arranged so. Blue, red, and yellowuniforms, with the occasional green of the Tyrolean Jager, were mixedtogether in picturesque confusion along the Verdun road; in fact, thedead and dying were everywhere in such prodigious numbers that thehearts of those seeking out the wounded were appalled.

  Worse than in the fields were the scenes displayed in the villages andlittle towns along the white high-road to Metz, the tall poplars thatlined it being torn down by the round shot, thus blocking the way. Thebroken vehicles and baggage wagons that were mingled together in aninextricable mass also added to the obstruction; Malmaison, Vionville,and Rezonville were filled with war victims; and all the surgeons,French as well as German, that could be summoned to help, were as busyas they could possibly be. Carriages and stretchers covered the openplaces in front of every house, the Red Cross of Geneva being rudelydepicted on the doors, with the neutral flag of the society floatingabove; while pools of blood marked the dressing places of the wounded,the pale white faces of whom lo
oked down in mute misery from the cartsin which they were being borne away to the rear to make room for othersto be attended to. To complete the picture, those who had died underoperation were laid by the roadside until they could be collected bye-and-bye for burial, the living having to be seen to first!

  Released at length, after toiling through the night and early morning athis voluntary labour, Fritz was able at last to return to the bivouac ofthe Hanoverians; but, while on his way to camp, he passed one of themost affecting pictures he had yet seen. Hearing the howl of a dog, heturned aside towards a little clump of trees from which the sound seemedto come, and here he came up to a splendid large black retriever, which,with one paw on a dead officer's breast and with his noble head raisedto the sky, was baying in that melancholy fashion in which dogs telltheir woe on being overcome by grief. Near this little group was anunfortunate horse sitting on its haunches, its hind-quarters having beentorn off by the discharge of a shell, or the passage of some conicalprojectile. The animal was moaning heavily with pain, and looked soappealingly at Fritz out of its large deep eyes, that he raised arevolver which he had picked up on the field and put the poor brute outof its agony. It was a different matter with the dog, however; althoughhe could not persuade the faithful retriever to leave his master's side;and, as it was getting late, and Fritz thought he might be missed andreported as a straggler from his corps, he hurried on to the campingground of his regiment, promising himself to return later on in the day,if spared from duty, when he would bury the dead body of the officer andtake possession of the dog--that is, should no one else haveappropriated him in the meantime, as might possibly be the case.

  He was so worn-out with fatigue, on arrival at the bivouac of theregiment in the Bois du Vaux, that, on finding that his absence was nottaken any notice of, he laid himself down by the side of a fire whichthe men had kindled for cooking their camp kettles; and, although it wasa warm summer day, he immediately fell asleep, not waking until late inthe afternoon. Then, partaking of some Erbwurst, or "peasoup sausage,"which one of his comrades had kindly kept for him, albeit the rationswere rather scanty, he felt a new man, and fit for anything; for, theworn-out feeling of exhaustion and nervous horror which had possessedhis mind throughout the many hours that elapsed since the close of thefighting on the evening before, being only the effects of over-excitement, had now completely disappeared on his getting rest andrefreshment. Indeed, he no longer felt sickened with war. On thecontrary, he was quite ready to start into a fresh battle, and that,too, with as eager an impetus as he had plunged into his firstengagement.

  This was not all, either.

  On the regiment being paraded shortly afterwards in front of itsbivouac, the field officer of the day called out "Fritz Dort" a secondtime, after the names of the men had been run over on the muster roll--many failing to answer, and having the brief military comment "Dead," or"Missing," placed after their numbers.

  "Here!" answered Fritz, stepping forwards and saluting the officer inthe ordinary routine fashion, wondering what was to come next.

  "Fritz Dort and men of the 16th Hanoverians," proceeded the major,reading from an official document in his hand, "I am directed by thegeneral commanding the Tenth Army Corps, in the order of the day, tosignalise the distinguished gallantry which the said Fritz Dortdisplayed yesterday in the face of the enemy at the engagement in frontof Gravelotte, when, on the falling of the officer leading the companyto which he was attached, the said Fritz Dort bravely stepped to thefront, and taking his commander's vacant post, led on his men to capturethe French battery, which they were detailed to take by storm. For suchconspicuously good service in action, the general commanding herebypromotes the said Fritz Dort to be a sub-lieutenant in the sameregiment, trusting that, as an officer, he will perform his duty as hehas done as a private soldier and meet with the obedience and honour ofthose with whom he has previously served as a brother comrade, none theless on account of his promotion from the ranks which as one ofthemselves he has adorned!"

  A loud "Hurrah!" broke from all the men when the major had finishedreading this document; and that officer then shook hands kindly withFritz, welcoming him cordially to the higher station he had attained.The other subalterns also advanced, doing the same; while, on retiringfrom the parade, the men of the rank and file, without receiving anyorder to that effect, gave the young hero a general salute, in token oftheir respect and recognition of his new dignity as an officer overthem.

  Fritz's heart was bursting with joy at his unexpected promotion. Hethought how proud his mother would be to hear of it; but, before writinghome by the afternoon field post, as he intended doing, he determined tocarry out the promise he had made to himself, and which he held asequally binding as if it had been made in the presence of witnesses--thepromise to bury the body of the dead officer which he had come across inthe wood, guarded by his faithful dog.

  "Heinrich!" he called out to the man who, as his whilom comrade, hadpreserved his rations for him. He forgot for the moment the alteredcondition of their respective ranks.

  "Ja, Herr Lieutenant," said Heinrich, much to his surprise, stepping outtowards him and saluting, with forefinger to pickelhaube, as straight asa ramrod.

  "Bother!" exclaimed Fritz, a bit puzzled at first by the inconveniencein some ways of his exaltation in rank. There was some difficulty atfirst in accommodating himself to his new position.

  "Never mind my being an officer for awhile, friend Heinrich," heexplained to his whilom comrade--"the dignity can keep without harmingit until we are again on duty together, when I promise to remember it toall your advantage; for you've been good fellows to me, one and all! Iwant you now to help me, friend Heinrich, in a sad commission; so, Irely upon your assistance from our old brotherly feelings whentogether--not because I ask you as your superior. Get a pickaxe andspade from one of the pioneers and come with me. I'm going to bury apoor fellow who has fallen over there, whose fate has attracted mysympathy." Fritz pointed, as he spoke, to the wood where the dead manlay.

  "With right good pleasure, Herr Lieutenant," said the other in acheerful tone of voice, with great alacrity of manner, saluting again asbefore. As a soldier, he knew his place too well to take a liberty withan officer, even if a newly-made one, and with his own permission! TheGerman, or rather Prussian, system was and is very strict on suchpoints.

  "Oh, bother!" ejaculated Fritz again, between his teeth. "The idea ofhelping to bury a man `with right good pleasure'!"

  He could not help smiling at the ludicrous association with so grave asubject, as he unconsciously mimicked the soldier's simple speech.

  "Poor dear old fellow, though," thought he a moment afterwards, "hedoesn't know what a funny phrase he used."

  In a minute or two the man returned with the required articles; when heand Fritz set off towards the wood, the latter leading the way, andHeinrich following close behind in single file.

  On reaching the spot which he had marked, Fritz found that no one hadapparently been there in his absence, for the dog was still on guardover his master's corpse, although he was now lying across the body, andhad ceased his melancholy howl. When he approached the animal waggedhis bushy tail, as if in recognition of having seen Fritz before.

  "Poor fellow!" said Fritz; "come here, old man! We're here to put yourmaster in his last home, and you must not prevent us. We will treat himvery tenderly."

  The dog looked up in his face, as if he understood what his new friendsaid; and, crawling off from the officer's body, he came to Fritz andlicked his hand, holding up the while one paw, which was bleeding as iffrom a cut.

  "He is wounded," said Heinrich, stooping down.

  "Yes," answered Fritz, examining the poor paw, much apparently to thedog's satisfaction. "It's from a piece of shell, probably the same thatsettled the horse there; but it's not a bad wound, and will soon getwell, doggie!" So saying, lifting up the injured member gently, hebegan to bind it round with a piece of lint which he had in his pocket,the retriever
keeping perfectly quiet, as if knowing that no injury wasintended him.

  Fritz then proceeded to open the dead officer's jacket, in order tosearch for any papers or articles of value, which he might keep andforward to his relatives. Previously, the dog would not allow him totouch the body at all, but now he did not offer any objection, so Fritzturned out all the pockets. He could discover no paper, however, norany trace of identity. The only token he could find was a little silverring wrapped in a small piece of paper, inscribed, "From my beloved,18th July, 1870." This was carefully enclosed in a little bag of silk,and suspended by a ribbon round the poor young fellow's neck, resting onthe cold and lifeless spot where his heart once used to beat.

  "A love gage," said Heinrich sympathisingly.

  "Ah, yes," replied Fritz; "and the poor girl will, I suppose, continueto look out for him, hoping to see him again, while he lies here in anameless tomb! Never mind, I will keep the token and the dog; perhaps Imay discover her and his friends some day through them. Now, let usmake the grave quickly, comrade, and commit him to his rest!"

  In silence the two then dug a low trench in the soil beneath the treewhere the officer had found his death, and then reverently laid him init. He had died calmly from the effects of a bullet which must havepenetrated his brain, as only a small blue orifice was to be seen in thecentre of his forehead; and a smile was on his handsome young face, asif no painful thought had vexed his last moment.

  During the sad obsequies, the dog kept close to the side of Fritz,watching attentively everything that was done, without stirring oruttering a sound, save when they shovelled the earth on his poormaster's breast. He then gave vent to a short, angry bark; but, onFritz speaking to him soothingly, he again became quiet, remaining so tothe end, when he laid down on the newly-made grave, with a deep, lowwhine that was almost a sigh, that seemed to come from the bottom of hisfaithful canine heart!

  From a piece of broken wood close by, Fritz then carved a rude cross,which he fixed in the ground at the head of the poor young fellow's lastresting-place, inscribing on it the words: "To a French officer. Peaceto his remains. The grave knows no enmities! 18th August, 1870."

  The date on this unknown victim's grave was exactly one month later thanthat on which he must have parted from his sweetheart. What a strangefatality, pondered Fritz and his companion, that one who had probablybeen so much loved and cared for, should be indebted for the lastfriendly offices which man or woman could render him--to strangers!"May he rest in peace!" said Fritz, uncovering his head as he turnedaway, and then putting on his helmet again.

  "So, too, I wish," echoed Heinrich. "We can do no more for him, pooryouth!"

  "No," said Fritz; "we'd better go now. Come on, old fellow!" he added,with a whistle to the retriever, who, wise dog that he was, seeing hecould do no further good to the one to whom he had been faithful in lifeand watched in death as long as he was able, now answered the call ofthe new friend whom Providence had sent him. Without any demur hereturned with Fritz and Heinrich to the Hanoverian camp, following closebehind the heels of the former, as if recognising him as his master inthe place of him whom he had lost.

  Fritz christened this treasure trove of the battlefield "Gelert"; andlike that trusty hound of old, the animal became known to all the men ina very short while. He was formally adopted, indeed, as the pet of theregiment, besides coming in for Fritz's own special care, being knowneven to the general in command of the division as "the dog of the sub-lieutenant of Gravelotte."