KRIEG (War)

  I went back past Israel again and into the bunker. Funke chewed on a cigar stump and complained about Israel: “That was the best person I have seen. And how he knew he was going to die! That is only so with good people.”

  Hartenstein sat bent over and drew with his finger on the ground where there was nothing to draw. I lay down on my bed and cried bitterly.

  XIV

  Toward evening we buried Israel on the steep slope where he fell, for it was beautiful there. In the rear we wanted to make a cross for him with his name and his death date.

  The sixth company arrived toward morning.

  I sent my people immediately away so that they would be out of the most dangerous area before daylight and remained behind with Funke.

  An energetic Vizefeldwebel relieved me. I told him he should be right careful that he didn’t draw any artillery fire.

  “Ah, what!” he called. “We aren’t afraid!”

  As we set out it was already beginning to grow light. We went along the steep slope and came to a trench, which led through the woods and ended in front of a large meadow. It was completely green. It was remarkable that it was all green and not at all white.

  There had been heavy dew. We came to the ruins of a place. We had become thirsty and entered a crumbling farm yard, whose walls inside were painted pink. Lilacs were blooming by the fountain. The first rays of the sun were blazing over the horizon. The clear water glistened in the bucket. I thought I had never seen anything like it before.

  Then we continued our wandering. Funke told about his children. I listened, but heard only the sound of his talking. I felt strangely light.

  After a time we met the company sitting on the side of the road. How few there were! They were dirty and unshaven, but they were cheerful.

  Dead horses and shot-up wagons lay on the road. A little to the side something was being built.

  Our field kitchen had halted behind a rise. We received food, then lay on the ground on our stomachs, ate, and let the sun shine on us.

  Lamm declared that this was just yesterday’s noon meal and that toward evening we would be fed again. Everyone grunted with joy.

  We marched through a large forest and after some hours arrived tired in the camp.

  Soft grass and wild roses grew among fir trees. We pitched tents and slept into the afternoon. Then the second midday meal was ready. Then the regimental band began playing not far away and we walked over. However, as the sun went down, we lay back down in our tents and slept until the morning. It was clear and bright. We went and got water, then washed and shaved. During the morning Lamm rode off on a horse and came back with a branch of cherry blossoms and handed it to me.

  “What am I supposed to do with it?” I asked.

  “I saw the whole tree from which it came,” he laughed.

  I was embarrassed, even put off by his amusement. Weickert was also cheerful again. I took my blanket and went off to myself by a rise, undressed and lay in the sun. I didn’t want to see anyone.

  XV

  The next day we went forward again. As I entered my battery I was astounded at how terribly bleak everything appeared. What we called a meadow was a sieve of shell holes with isolated tufts of grass. And there was a strong smell of shells.

  The first day passed peacefully.

  However, I now noticed how exhausted we were. Yesterday Weickert had appeared so fresh and today he was again gray and crestfallen. In the evening two men suddenly came down with high fevers and had to be immediately taken to the rear.

  During the night I walked around. My people were not alert. The three days of rest appeared to have distracted them, and they again knew that there was also another life for them than to be sentries in shell holes.

  Around midnight I was plagued by hunger. However, I had nothing more to eat and I wandered around outside, only because I didn’t know what else I should do. The moon rose. To the rear fog hung on the ground. White Mountain, with its baldness, stood out mysteriously through the darkness. Everything was unusually clear. I went to Israel’s grave on which the wood cross now stood. The morning chill took hold and caused me to shiver.

  As the food came I was repelled by it. With disgust I ate a spoonful. And now one still had to watch for another two hours!

  I lit a cigarette. I couldn’t smoke. Maybe I only had an upset stomach. We had been given some Schnapps. I poured some in my field cup and drank. However, it came back up and I walked hurriedly outside with the feeling that I would throw up.

  “The finch did not come today,” said Hartenstein. “Only the blackbird.”

  I finally lay down to sleep. However, I could not sleep properly. I heard everything and twisted it around into other meanings.

  In the afternoon someone yelled down, “The French are attacking on White Mountain!”

  I stumbled up the steps. On the French summit I could see people climbing up and disappearing into the depths—one couldn’t differentiate anymore between trenches and shell holes.—On the German summit shell explosions appeared like bushes. Red flares burst in the air. Our artillery began to bark and there were dull explosions far to the rear. The German barrage was unusually heavy. On the summits figures appeared and disappeared again—whether they were German or French one could not tell.

  On the right came infantry columns in march cadence moving toward the summits. I could see them darkly against the bright sky. A lone man appeared to be giving directions. He was taller and heavier than the others. The columns split up. I could still see only the officer standing. Suddenly on the right summit appeared a man, and one on the left; both, it appeared with rifles at the ready. And they both went toward the German side.

  “Did you see that?” asked Hartenstein.

  “Yes, that was close combat. I always imagined it to be somewhat different. It appeared to be somewhat meager.”

  Single individuals ran from the right across the first summit. The recent state of affairs was restored.—Why did one again and again upset the scale? Was it only to wear down the other side?

  I spent this night also walking around. A runner came; I should come to see Lamm.

  He sat with a candle in front of a small wall table and wrote.

  “Sit down here beside me on the bench. I want to talk over with you who should be considered for recommendation for decorations. I have become so unfamiliar with the company that I know very few anymore.”

  “Now that it has become more peaceful, report writing has multiplied so that this past night I only got as far as Langenohl. I will simply have to trust my platoon leaders that they do their duty.”

  He spoke tiredly.

  Toward morning as the food came I felt very sick. I forced myself to eat at least something. To eat dinner at three in the morning when one has a fever! Two more hours on watch appeared to me to be impossible.

  I sat down with Hartenstein on the steps. We sat mute next to each other. He didn’t throw out any crumbs; there was no bird and no song.

  He only breathed. Other than that there was no movement on him. We were silent and the silence lengthened and became a terrible emptiness. What should one say? I had nothing more.

  Hartenstein stood up: “Now it is over,” he said, and went below. That wasn’t it. He had said something and that was good of him. I looked at my watch. We still had an hour to watch. However, I got up and lay down to sleep. And I was the leader and should have been an example.

  I slept uneasily. Shells began falling outside, very close. I heard it and just let it happen. Suddenly the bunker shook. Sand sifted through the roof. Funke was speaking with someone, who reported that the sentry on the left was wounded.

  After a while Hartenstein came: “Fire is now falling by Lamm. A French artillery observer is overhead.”

  Ka– Whoom! Another round landed.

  Ka– Wham!

  I rolled forward.

  Something brushed against me.

  I went toward the exit.

  Behind me there was s
ome sort of human sound.

  Hartenstein looked at me in horror. He was already outside.

  Someone ran down toward the ravine.

  Funke ran after him and then turned back.

  “He has gone crazy,” said Hartenstein and then walked away to the left.

  I went back into the bunker. Why, I don’t know; I went very slowly, took my gas mask, rifle and helmet. The roof was caved in at the rear. A head looked at me from the rubble. He was dead. A field kettle lay turned over on a blanket, with food poured over it.

  I went up the steps.

  Wham! To the left.

  Hartenstein and Funke were no longer there.

  Boom!

  I got mud in my face and began running along the steep slope.

  Israel’s grave had become a shell hole, on whose edges pieces of the wooden cross lay half buried.

  My haste became ever greater. I had neglected something and couldn’t remember what it was.

  I ran down the steps at Lamm’s. I only saw his boots on a cot and a blanket over them.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  I sat down on the wooden bench.

  “Herr Leutnant!” I said. “We have been buried.”

  “Have you been wounded?”

  That was something I hadn’t thought about.

  “No.”

  He rose up. I didn’t dare to look at him. He stood before me.

  “How many casualties do you have?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?” he said sharply.

  I knew myself that I had not done my duty!

  “We can’t allow that to remain so,” he said softly. “I will go over with you.”

  We went outside together. He stood still. “Look at me,” he said.

  I had the desire to avert my eyes in order to avoid his gaze.

  “Come with me,” he said very softly. “We will arrange the necessary things together.—Do you not have any idea who is gone?”

  “Yes, Bilmofsky ran away, but he had already reached the ravine and appeared to be safe.”

  Lamm questioned me. The firing had stopped. Gradually everything became clearer.

  “So, now give your orders!” said Lamm cheerfully. “I’ll stay with you.”

  I was confused, but gave the orders and determined the losses. Two were buried below, one was wounded, Bilmofsky ran away senseless, and five were not able to function. They sat apathetically in the bunkers.

  “I am going back now,” said Lamm. “I will see to it that we are relieved.”

  I was in a strange condition. It was as if I kept losing my thoughts and had to learn them anew. I was plagued by the feeling of indolence and neglected duty. I felt miserable and in constant yearning. If I looked at the forest I yearned for it. And when I thought of my comrades I yearned for them.

  In the evening a runner came. “Herr Leutnant says that toward morning the whole company will be relieved and will move to a camp in the rear.”

  XVI

  On the day after the relief Lamm came to me toward evening. “Will you walk a ways with me?”

  We went along in a small fir forest.

  “Du,” I said. “I have a terribly bad conscience.”

  “For what reason?”

  “As our bunker was caved in I didn’t hold myself together. I felt very dishonest because earlier I had lain down, although I wasn’t supposed to.”

  He looked silently at the ground.

  “Were you able to hold yourself together?”

  “I should have done it.”

  “But I’m asking you, could you have done it?”

  “I don’t know—but I believe so.”

  “Have you ever thought about what it means to be in shock?”

  “Well, to be unnerved.”

  “You won’t get any further with it. With every fright some impression is banished from the conscious mind. One stares at the impression. But it is immaterial. Whoever could have the spiritual strength, by an unexpected incident, to freely look around, could not be shocked. You are in distress because of some mental image. However, it is of no concern. The only reason whereby you could feel shame is because you don’t want to observe things around you. And now look at the blossoming cherry tree—that is the reason namely that I have brought you here—take a look at it. Do you notice anything about it?” He laughed.

  “Well, it’s blooming.” Other than that I couldn’t see anything on it. He laughed even more. I became very embarrassed that I couldn’t see anything else.

  “There is nothing else on it,” he laughed.

  I could not understand what he was after.

  “Say now, where was your shock just now with all your mental images?”

  “Gone.” Suddenly it became clear to me. “But, Du! There is something about the cherry tree. It is really beautiful,” I laughed.

  “Bravo! Bravo!” he called and suddenly became serious. “But do you know something? You have been terribly strained. Here in the rear you don’t have any duties and when we go back to the front the major wants to place us in a very peaceful position. He spoke very pleasantly with me and said to me that no one could hold up under that indefinitely.”

  “I have always wondered that the people in the holes have been able to hold up for so long,” I said.

  “And I have also wondered that no one has made one sound about it. You know, a formidable good nature is involved—or a frightening dullness.”

  XVII

  We marched back to the front and relieved a unit in a peaceful position in the forest. Platoons Trepte and Langenohl were placed forward. My platoon lay together with Lamm four hundred meters behind them in a dugout with nine entrances. Endless steps led below. Down below there was a pitch black, long passage, which led off the living area. There was a smell of wet chalk, softened wood, and mold. For a table we used mine timbers and also for beds because it was too damp on the bare ground. The dugout had not been lived in for months.

  As I came down below I shivered. We lit a Hindenburg burner. It burned dimly. As ever, Funke smoked a cigar. However, the taste didn’t suit him. The others also smoked, but I couldn’t do it again yet. In a short time the air was terrible as if they had been smoking fungus. We lay down to sleep. Every now and then a water drop fell from the roof of one of the passages. How terribly empty it was here! Lamm was located in the second bunker over with his people, other than that everything to the right and left was empty. It didn’t matter if anyone else was in the dugout or not. But—I didn’t know why—it was frightening to me.

  After we had slept for a time, not very long, everyone wanted to go out.

  “We’re not allowed to,” I said. “All nine entrances to the dugout have already been caved in—three are still caved in. For that reason no one will show himself.”

  “But can we at least sit on the steps?”

  The steps led toward the north. No ray of sunlight came inside. We could only see before us a blinding white chalk wall with sunlight shining on it.

  In the dugout I had little or nothing to do, but could not relax to read. Also the light was too bad to read. I lay most of the time in a half-sleep. On the second day it became clear to me that I had a fever, especially toward morning, always when the food came from the field kitchen. I believed that the quiet here was for the best and said nothing to anyone. However, during the next night, as the food came, I felt so dizzy and was so sick that I determined to tell Lamm. Lamm was at that moment in the forward position with the major. I lay down and covered up. Even so I shook with chills. After a while it became better so I did not make the report. It appeared to me as unbelievably deplorable in a forward position and as platoon leader to report oneself as sick.

  About noon I had a powerful appetite and ate well. I believed that I was getting better again. However, toward the next morning my condition was terrible. Funke wanted to force me to eat something. In all reality I couldn’t. Added to that I had a great fear and chills shook me.
However, I still wanted to wait another day.

  The next morning I went to Lamm. He went with me to the medical station and spoke privately with the doctor.

  The head doctor had my shirt removed and tapped and listened for a long time to my chest.

  “This man must go to the rear. However, you can keep him with the company. That can be worked out.—Make use of the beautiful weather and the good air in the forest depot—that is the best sanatorium—and when I come to the rear present yourself to me again!—Who is this coming to me?”

  One of our medics was leading Brand. He looked terrible with deep rings under the eyes, which looked fearfully at the doctor.

  “I already know this condition,” said the doctor and examined him quickly. “The lungs are in order. The Vizefeldwebel can take you with him to the rear. You lay in the sun a lot, also. That is not as dangerous as it appears.—Right now we have a lot of cases like this.” He turned to Lamm, “especially in your company.”

  “Can they go to the rear alone?” asked Lamm.

  “Yes, with confidence.”

  Lamm accompanied us outside and gave me a hearty handshake: “Recuperate for a time in the rear. The rest we will look at then. I will send your packs on the freight wagon tonight.”

  The sun had just risen. Moving felt good to me.

  I wanted to take Brand by the arm, but he said: “I can make it on my own.”

  We went silently like that through the trenches, over the green meadow, and came onto the road.

  We soon became tired and sat in the ditch by the road. Now I would gladly have had something to eat and drink. However, my pack was still at the front.

  We continued on. At a creek stood a ruined mill circled by blooming lilacs. Plants moved like snakes in the water below. Then we came to a forest and walked along a railroad on whose slopes red strawberries grew among green leaves. We sat down, tired but happy. We walked again and then sat again and so arrived at the forest depot around midday like children on an outing.