KRIEG (War)

by Ludwig Renn

  I met Lamm in front of his bunker speaking with an elderly Vizefeldwebel, who appeared to be pouting, and about twenty men.

  “The replacements have just now arrived,” said Lamm in a bad mood. “Now I can’t send anyone forward into the holes. I haven’t been able to find room for these here in the bunkers. How many by you still have room?”

  Now the Vizefeldwebel will take over my platoon, I thought. And he isn’t capable. One can see that plainly.

  “They will just have to find room with me.” I didn’t have the strength to ask how the new platoon organization would be.

  Lamm roused himself. “Then you will have all of them in your platoon. Vizefeldwebel Sandkorn will only be assigned to you for supply and billeting. I have in mind to use him later in another position when he has become familiar with everything, maybe as a trench Feldwebel.”

  I looked at Lamm and felt small.

  “May I organize them right here?” I laughed. “It won’t work well at my position.”

  “Do it as you see fit,” smiled Lamm. Certainly he had noticed what had been going on in my mind.

  “Is there anyone here who is trained on either the light or the heavy machine gun?”

  Three stepped forward.

  “Is there anybody else, who has been in a special position?”

  A small, very wide man stepped forward and said in a very slow, whining voice, “Corporal Funke, I was the orderly for the company commander for two years.”

  Moreover he beamed at me out of a wide, dirty face, and a drop hung on his nose. He wiped it off with the back of his hand. I didn’t want to laugh, but I had to, and everyone else laughed too. He smiled even more. He appeared to find our laughing as only friendliness. I considered: He is at least forty years old and also must be proficient because he was able to stay with the company commander so long.

  “You will be one of my runners.”

  XI

  In the afternoon I sat with Israel and Hartenstein in the exit facing White Mountain. The only shooting was somewhere in the distance. Was it maybe the last battles of this offensive?

  We tossed some crumbs to our birds. It was dry and dusty. The young birch leaves appeared grey. A large cloud came sailing over White Mountain and let large drops fall in the dust.

  Hartenstein observed all that silently with a couple of dark wrinkles over his nose.

  Israel drew his forehead up in wrinkles. “The new people like you, Renn.”

  “They don’t even know me yet.”

  “Oh yes, because you made Papa Funke one of your runners.”

  Someone came up the steps.

  “Guten Tag, Renn.” Lamm sat down with us. He was pale, but cheerful.

  “You have to show me sometime just what the situation on White Mountain is. I had namely reported, the French were sitting up there. This report went to division and they wrote that my report was not correct: they were in possession of the entire mountain.”

  “That is not true! Do you see the trench between the two summits?—It is only a flat trench.—That is the most forward French trench.”

  “Yes, that is what I also observed.”

  “How can they then say that they are in possession of the whole mountain? That is simply a lie. Our artillery always shoots at the left summit.”

  Lamm stared thoughtfully across the room. “Have you ever thought about how such a report occurs? In the higher headquarters in the rear they don’t know what is going on at the front.”

  “Don’t they send anyone forward?”

  “Have you ever seen anyone with us?—And what good would it do them? Think about it. Suppose someone came here. For him everything would only be woods and land. And if we didn’t want to show him something we would just say: It’s dangerous there. Or one can’t go there during the day.”

  “But the troops have to report properly what the situation is at the front!”

  “They aren’t doing that.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Think about it. If the troops there had reported they only have the one summit, the order would have immediately come from the rear to take the other one also. That would be crazy because it is impossible for anyone to stay there. And that is because the French can fire directly into the trenches.”

  “I don’t want to understand that!”

  “That won’t help you. It’s true anyway.”

  “Was it already that way in 1914?”

  “Certainly not. Then there was no enmity between the front and the rear.”

  “But who is responsible for the enmity?”

  “Both. They in the rear didn’t understand the troops anymore when trench warfare came and the troops thought they knew better what was going on and didn’t want to obey anymore because they are the ones making the sacrifices.”

  He left.

  I was depressed this day and the next. I didn’t want to see what he had said. I was afraid to come to terms with the fact that these were signs of disintegration.

  XII

  There was little firing. But I had losses again down in the ravine. The light machine gun received a splinter in the water jacket so that the water ran out. It had to be sent to the rear for repairs. Weickert was emaciated and looked like someone with consumption. Brand still trembled constantly and his eyes had become very bright, but he said nothing. I had come to like the boy very much.

  One night Lamm came and asked sharply: “Where is Brand?”

  “He is below in the ravine.”

  “Take me there.”

  The moon was shining brightly. I went in the lead. What could he want with Brand? What should I say to Lamm if he had something against him? Lamm appeared to be infuriated.

  “Here!” I whispered.

  One saw only a steel helmet in the tangle of limbs.

  “Are you Brand?”

  “No, Herr Leutnant.—Emil, come on out. Herr Leutnant wants to speak with you.”

  There was a rummaging below. A bare head popped out of the limbs and he hastily fastened his chin strap.

  “In the name of his majesty, the Kaiser, the commanding general has awarded you the Iron Cross. You have justly earned it.”

  Lamm reached his hand down. Brand gripped it timidly and released it again.

  “Also take the Iron Cross,” laughed Lamm. Brand reached for it.

  The others in the hole boisterously wished him good luck.

  “Quiet! Quiet!” laughed Lamm. “You are going to wake up the French over there.”

  Lamm took me aside. “Now for the next bit.”—As I began my speech, suddenly I had the feeling I had done something very dumb.

  “The men will never forget how you brought the Iron Cross out here to the hole!”—

  In the morning it was foggy. I walked along the slope.

  In my battery I could see Sendig sitting on his steps and writing a letter.

  “Du!” I said and sat down on the top step. “Tonight you have to—”

  Whamm!

  It rang in my ears. Wood splinters flew all over. The shell had detonated close over my head. Sendig tumbled below. I slid down after him. He looked up at me.

  “Tonight you have to—”

  “Listen,” Sendig interrupted me. “Do you know that you are considered to be unwoundable? Now I believe it, too. Did it really not do anything to you?”

  “No,” I looked myself over. “Yes, it split the stock of my rifle.”

  Sendig shook his head: “That is unheard of! That is unheard of!”

  “Now let me continue talking! So, tonight you are to relieve Weickert and his machine gun. You have it better now than he has, because the weather is now somewhat warmer and the trenches have been prepared.”

  “You don’t need to excuse yourself. I do it gladly.”

  In my bunker I lay down on my bed. Because of the shell explosion the bunker was rushing around me like in a sea shell. I yawned and thereby it rushed even more. I lay and wanted to sleep. The lice plagued me. It bot
hered me more than usual. Now my strength was also coming to an end. We had been three weeks here at the front, walking around in the night and in the morning being stirred up for hours.

  I lay wide awake. At midday I got up in order to eat something. However, I was not hungry.

  “What is wrong with your rifle?” asked Israel.

  “Oh, nothing! We will have to find another one. There are some lying around outside.”

  “But how did this happen?”

  “Oh, leave me in peace!”

  I lay down again on my bed.

  Funke had lit himself a cigar—he busied himself chewing the mouthpiece—and began talking. “My company commander used to say back then: one should not place himself in danger unnecessarily. But when it came to it, he was always there and then it could shoot the way it liked. That was a fine man. And how he could handle our people! Well, I am just a cabinet maker, and that was a proper man—of course he wasn’t from the aristocracy—but he was a proper man.”

  I listened to all that and it was boring for me in the extreme, and still I had to like him for his good-heartedness. Finally I fell half asleep.

  “From above came the call. “The French are preparing to attack on White Mountain!”

  I sprang up and had a severe pain in my chest.

  “Get everything ready but stay below! Israel, make a report to the Herr Leutnant!”

  I strapped on my gas mask and stumbled up the steps, which led to White Mountain. It hurt when I breathed.

  I didn’t see anything on White Mountain except haze through which the sun was dazzling.

  Sch— wham! Sch—wham! It went over us into the ground. There were single rifle shots from the other side. Machine guns swung into action and rattled. It appeared to me that they were shooting at us. On the German summit of the mountain explosions rose up continuously.

  There was such a popping from the machine guns that one could hear nothing else but them.

  With the shock when the alarm came I must have done something to my chest.

  Someone came running. Israel handed me the company command book.

  “Come inside!” I screamed. “What are you doing walking around with the company command book?”

  “Oh, that little bit of shooting!” he laughed.

  Wham! Wham! Two explosions sounded in the ravine.

  Two people came running. Lamm along with a runner came into our stairs.

  “What’s up here?” he screamed into my ear.

  “Nothing here with us!” I bellowed back.

  The machine gun fire gradually diminished. Heavy shells roared over us toward the white trench behind us and the heights on the other side. Our artillery barked and spit.

  Then that diminished and it became very quiet.

  Toward evening Sendig came. “Can the other groups pick up the food for us today so that we can immediately relieve the people in the ravine?”

  I decided that Hartenstein should send more men to the rear and I let both Funke and Israel go back also.

  As soon as it was dark I went out and into the ravine. Weickert came excitedly toward me.

  “I have lost another three men, including two dead! I can no longer occupy all of the holes!”

  “Sendig is relieving you. The first people are coming now.”

  Someone came climbing down from the far side of the ravine. Who was it? I went toward him. It was a lieutenant.

  I reported. He greeted me politely.

  “I am the leader of the company that joins you on the right. We moved into the position yesterday. Your company reported that we had been lying too far to the rear. Therefore we will dig in here forward next to you. I hope for a good relationship and would be grateful if you would show me how we should best go about digging in since you know the conditions here better.”

  We climbed up the side of the other slope. His people were spread out up there like they were on an exercise field, with their rifles pointed. By the will of God! I thought. They have never been in combat before!

  I showed him how we set up the trenches, not in a straight line, but uneven if possible.

  “I’m not allowed to do that,” he said. “My battalion commander gave me strict directions how I should do things.”

  I was content with that, because it appeared they had energetic leaders in this regiment. I was probably allowed too much freedom.

  Lamm came toward us and greeted the lieutenant: “This is the first time that our neighbor division has established contact with us!”

  “How is that possible?” asked the lieutenant.

  “It is so.”

  “You shall not have reason to complain about us.”

  We went back.

  “I have something to share with you,” said Lamm seriously.

  Have I forgotten to do something again? I thought. He stood still. It was dark.

  “Because of your distinction before the enemy you have been promoted to Vizefeldwebel.—I have brought you my sword knot and a couple of buttons—of course they are only corporal’s buttons.”

  I wanted to thank him—but was that not a little too much? I had the position here, the most important in the whole division!

  “Are you not happy then?”

  “Of course, of course, but—you are going to make me conceited.”

  He laughed and wanted to say something. But he laughed even more and just placed the sword knot in my hand and went ahead of me.

  At my bunker we met Hartenstein. “Congratulate Renn here on his promotion to Vizefeldwebel! Has he not earned it?”

  “Jawohl, Herr Leutnant, he’s earned it,” he said, straightforward.

  That pained me. But there was also a joy included, in that he wasn’t jealous; then I esteemed Hartenstein as more capable than me.

  XIII

  Funke came carrying food containers. “There were casualties, four men from the section. Israel will be right here. He can tell it better than me.”

  Israel came in a state of agitation and set down the water pack and a bag. His coat tail and pockets were all bloody.

  “That they possess so little comradeship!—As we were standing at the kitchen a group of shells fell on the people of the fourth company. They dropped in the middle of them. Then another group of shells came and one landed in the kitchen kettle of the fourth company and sprayed the wounded all over with hot food. They screamed. Then the whole gang took off instead of helping! I called after them that someone should help me, but no one came!”

  “Yes,” said Funke. “Israel was the only one who tried to take care of the wounded.”

  “One of them had both legs shot off and it covered him over and over with soup. I had to load him onto a wagon alone and I didn’t know how to grasp him. It hurt him all over!”

  They talked in confusion. Funke said over and over, “Yes, Israel is the only one who knows what comradeship is.”

  After we had eaten the others spoke more quietly. Only Israel was gripped by an inexplicable excitement and unrest.

  “If anything happens to me—no one will help me!” he said.

  “I will help you,” said Funke.

  “You can’t help me! That was my last evening! No one can help now!”

  “You will still live a long time,” said Funke. “God doesn’t forget the good people.”

  “Oh! I know it: that was my last evening!—And I don’t want to die yet!”

  If they just don’t notice now that I have been promoted to Vizefeldwebel! I didn’t know why the thought was so terrible for me. I pulled Hartenstein by the sleeve toward the steps.

  It was light outside. The blackbird sang in the birch tree and the finch not far away. Hartenstein tossed out bread crumbs.

  “Don’t tell them that I have been promoted to Vizefeldwebel!”

  “Why ever not, then?”

  “Please, don’t tell them! I have such a feeling.”

  After a while he said, “That must have been horrible picking up the food! Israel isn’t so easi
ly frightened—and he is completely beside himself.”

  I looked across at White Mountain, which appeared so peaceful. It was very beautiful.

  “Somewhere something must be blooming,” said Hartenstein. “There is such a fragrance.”

  Before us lay naked chalk stones, and the birch was all torn up. It had put forth sprouts one more time, then it withered.—However, a fragrance was there from some blossoms somewhere.

  We lay down to sleep. Israel was already asleep. Only Funke sat there, sunk in his own thoughts, and smoked a cigar.

  ——————————

  “Orders from battalion! Everyone is to occupy the position! The French are preparing for an attack!” came the cry from above.

  We grabbed gas masks, rifles, and helmets and stumbled outside. In no time the artillery positions were heavily occupied. The machine guns were ready.

  The sun shone. It was quiet. Only in the distance there was a soft humming. Nowhere was there a movement to be seen. I sent Funke to Lamm to report that we had occupied the position, but it was very quiet, also there was no sign of an attack. I also directed that the men should kneel down so that they wouldn’t be visible from White Mountain and draw artillery fire.

  It remained quiet. Funke came running as fast as his short legs would carry him. “Israel is dead!”

  “Where?—Was there shooting?”

  “He is lying in the woods at the steep slope.”

  “And what did Herr Leutnant say?”

  “We should go back into the bunkers.”

  I let my people stand down and walked along the steep slope. From a distance I saw him lying, stretched out on his back, under a fir tree. I kneeled down beside him. He had the company order book in his hand that he had wanted to return to Lamm. I had not told him to do it. He had a little blood on his forehead and some brains were sprayed on his jacket.

  I took the order book and carried it to Lamm.

  “This alarm was unbelievable!” he complained. “I wrote the battalion a spiced up report and told them we knew better here up front whether an attack was imminent than they did in the rear!—Toward morning we will be relieved by the sixth company. The kitchen will meet us halfway to the camp.”