Under the influence of the grog, prepared according to the recipe of the sailor, that "regular tough 'un," he began to call himself names bluntly, and he uttered the most diverse dicta to indicate where he really ought to be.
"Well, we'd better go and have a look for that field altar," suggested Schweik. "It's broad daylight. I must just get my uniform and drink another glass of grog."
At last they went. The wife of the second-hand furniture dealer, who was half asleep, gave them the address of the teacher at Vrsovice, the new owner of the sofa. The Chaplain became extremely affable. He pinched the lady's cheek and chucked her under the chin.
They made their way to Vrsovice on foot, as the Chaplain announced that he needed a walk in the fresh air to distract his mind. When they reached the abode of the teacher, a pious old person, an unpleasant surprise was awaiting them. On discovering the field altar in the sofa, the old fellow had jumped to the conclusion that this must be some divine dispensation and he had presented it to the local church for the sacristy there, stipulating that on the other side of the folding altar they should put the following inscription :
PRESENTED FOR THE PRAISE AND HONOUR OF GOD
BY MR. KOLARIK, TEACHER.
IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD I914.
He showed much embarrassment, because when they arrived he was in his underclothes. From their conversation with him it was plain that he regarded the discovery as a miracle and a divine portent. He said that when he bought the sofa, there was a voice within him saying, "Look inside the flap of that sofa"; and he
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had, he said, also dreamed about an angel who had ordered him in so many words : "Open the flap of the sofa." He had done so.
And when he saw the miniature folding altar in three sections, with a recess for the tabernacle, he had knelt in front of the sofa and had continued long in fervid prayer, praising God. He had, he continued, looked upon this as a sign from heaven, showing him that he was to use his find to decorate the church at Vrsovice.
"That's no use to us," said the Chaplain. "Here was a thing that didn't belong to you, and you ought to have handed it over to the police and not to some confounded sacristy."
"This here miracle," added Schweik, "may lead to a fine old mess. You bought a sofa and not an altar, which is government property. This sign from God may turn out to be an expensive business for you. You oughtn't to have taken any notice of the angels. I heard of a man who dug up a chalice in a field, and this chalice had been stolen from a church and buried till the trouble had blown over. Well, he thought it was a sign from God, and instead of melting it down, he went to the parson with this chalice and said he wanted to present it to the church. The parson thought it was his conscience moving him and he sent for the mayor, the mayor put the police on the job and the upshot was that this chap, who was as innocent as a babe unborn, got shoved into quod for robbing a church, because he would keep on talking about a miracle. He tried to defend himself and started pitching some yarn about an angel, and the Virgin Mary was mixed up in it, too. So he got ten years. The best thing you can do is to come with us to the local parson and get him to give us back that government property. A field altar isn't a stray cat or a stocking that you can give away to anyone you please."
The old gentleman trembled from head to foot, and he began to dress himself, his teeth chattering the while.
"I assure you," he said, "I had not the slightest bad or wrong intention or purpose. 'I assumed that as the result of v/hat I deemed a divine dispensation it would be vouchsafed me to further the adornment of our humble church."
"Yes, at the government's expense. That's all very fine," said Schweik with relentless severity. "That sort of divine dispensation be blowed. There was a fellow I knew who once had the
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same idea about a divine inspiration when his hand managed to grab hold of a noose with somebody else's cow attached to it."
The poor old fellow was quite bewildered by these remarks and made no further attempts to defend himself. His sole concern now was to get dressed as quickly as possible and to settle the whole business.
The local parson was still asleep, and being awakened by the noise, he began to use strong language, as in his drowsiness he thought he had to go and administer the last rites to someone.
"I've had enough of this extreme unction business," he muttered, dressing with repugnance. "Some of these people take it into their heads to die when a man's sound asleep. And then he has to haggle with 'em about the fee."
So they met in the passage. One, the representative of the Lord among the Catholic civilians of Vrsovice and the other, the representative of God upon earth, attached to the military organization.
On the whole, however, it was a dispute between a civilian and a military man.
While the parson maintained that the altar did not belong to the sofa, the Chaplain declared that, if such were the case, still less could it be transferred from the sofa to the sacristy of a church which was attended solely by civilians. Schweik supplied an accompaniment in the form of remarks, saying, for example, that it was an easy job to furnish a humble church at the expense of the army funds. He uttered the word "humble" in inverted commas.
Finally they adjourned to the sacristy and the parson handed over the altar in return for the following acknowledgment :
Received, a field altar which by chance got into the church at Vrsovice.
(signed) Otto Katz, Army Chaplain.
The field altar, the cause of all the fuss, had been manufactured by a Jewish firm, Messrs. Moritz Mahler of Vienna, which turned out all kinds of accessories for Holy Mass and religious appliances, such as rosaries and images of saints. The altar consisted of three parts, liberally provided with sham gilding, like the
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glory of the Holy Church as a whole. It was not possible, without a good deal of imagination, to discover what the pictures, painted on these three parts, actually represented. There was only one figure which stood out prominently. It consisted of a naked man with a halo and a body turning green. On either side of him were two winged creatures, intended to represent angels. They looked like legendary monsters, a cross between a wildcat with wings and the apocalyptic beast.
Opposite this group was an effigy depicting the Holy Trinity. On the whole, the painter had let the dove off lightly. He had drawn a bird which might have been a dove or might equally well have been a female wyandotte. God the Father, on the other hand, looked like a bandit from the Wild West, as seen in a thrilling crook film. The Son, to counterbalance this, was a jolly young man with a well-developed corporation, draped in something which resembled bathing drawers. Altogether, he produced the impression of being a devotee of sport. In his hand was a cross, which he held with as much elegance as if it had been a tennis racket.
Seen from afar, however, all these details were merged together and had the appearance of a train entering a railway station. What the third image represented was beyond all conjecture. Beneath it was the inscription: "Heilige Maria, Mutter Gottes, erbarme dich unser."1
Schweik deposited the field altar safely in the cab and then joined the cabman on the box, while the Chaplain made himself comfortable inside the cab, with his feet on the Holy Trinity.
Schweik chatted with the cabman about the war.
The cabman was a rebel. He made various remarks about the Austrian victory, such as : "They gave you a hot time in Serbia," and the like. When they reached the octroi, the official inquired what they were carrying. Schweik replied :
"The Holy Trinity and the Virgin Mary with an army chaplain."
Meanwhile, on the exercise ground the drafts were waiting impatiently. And they waited for a long time. For Schweik and
1"Holy Mary, Mother of God, have pity upon us."
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the Chaplain first had to fetch the challenge cup from Lieutenant Wittinger and then they went to the monastery at Brevnov for the monstrance, the pyx and other accessories of the ma
ss, including the bottle of consecrated wine. That only shows you that it is not at all easy to celebrate mass.
"We're sort of getting this job done by fits and starts, like," said Schweik to the cabman.
He was right. For when they reached the exercise ground and were alongside the platform with the wooden framework at the side and a table on which the field altar was to be placed, it turned out that the Chaplain had forgotten about the ministrant. This duty had hitherto been performed by an infantryman who had managed to get himself transferred to the signal service and had gone to the front.
"Never mind, sir," said Schweik, "that's a job that I can manage, too."
"Do you know how to do it?"
"I've never done it before," replied Schweik, "but there's no harm in trying. There's a war on, and people are doing things they never dreamed about before. All that silly stuff about et cum spiritu tuo after your Dominus vobiscum—I'll see to that, all right. And afterward it's a pretty soft job to walk round you, like a cat on hot bricks. And then to wash your hands and pour out the wine from the goblets. . . ."
"All right," said the Chaplain, "but don't pour out any water for me. I think I'd better put some wine into the second goblet this very minute. Anyhow, I'll tell you all the time whether you've got to step to the right or the left. If I whistle very softly, once, that means to the right ; twice, to the left. And you needn't worry much about the missal, either. But the whole thing's no end of a lark. You don't feel nervous, do you?"
"I'm not scared of anything, sir. I could do this ministrant job on my head, as you might say."
The Chaplain was right when he said that it was "no end of a lark."
The whole matter passed off without the least hitch.
The Chaplain's speech was very concise.
"Soldiers ! We have met here in order that, before proceeding
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to the field of battle, you may turn your hearts toward God, that He may give us victory and keep us safe and sound. I am not going to detain you for long, and I wish you all the best."
"Stand at ease !" shouted the old colonel on the left flank.
A field mass is called thus, because it is amenable to the same laws as military tactics in the field. During the long manœuvres of the armies in the Thirty Years' War field masses were apt to be extremely lengthy.
As the result of modern tactics, when the movements of armies are rapid and smart, field masses also have to be rapid and smart.
This particular one lasted exactly ten minutes and those who were close to the centre of operations wondered very much why the Chaplain whistled while he was officiating.
Schweik showed a smart mastery of the signals. He walked to the right-hand side of the altar, the next moment he was on the left, and all he kept saying was : "Et cum spiritu tuo."
It looked like a Red Indian war dance round a sacrificial stone. But it produced a satisfactory effect by relieving the boredom of the dusty, dismal exercise ground with its avenues of plum-trees at the back, and the latrines, the odour of which replaced the mystical perfume of incense in Gothic churches.
They all enjoyed themselves immensely.
The officers standing round the Colonel were telling each other stories', and this was as it should be. Here and there among the rank-and-file could be heard the words, "Give us a puff."
And blue clouds of tobacco smoke arose like the smoke of a burnt offering from the assembled companies. All the N. C. O.'s started smoking when they saw that the Colonel himself had lit up.
At last came the order: "Let us pray." There was a whirl of dust and a gray rectangle of uniforms bowed the knee before Lieutenant Wittinger's challenge cup, which he won as a representative of the Favourite Sports Club in the Vienna-Môdling cross-country Marathon.
The cup was filled to the brim and the general opinion with regard to the result of the Chaplain's manipulations was summed up in the remark which passed along the ranks : "He's swigged the lot,"
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This performance was repeated. Then once more: "Let us pray," whereupon the band trotted out. "Lord preserve us," they formed fours and were marched off.
"Collect all the doings," said the Chaplain to Schweik, pointing to the field altar, "so as we can take 'em back to their proper place."
So back they went with their cabman, and honestly restored everything except the bottle of sacramental wine.
And when they were back home again, after having told the unfortunate cabman to apply to the military command about his fare for the long drive, Schweik said to the Chaplain :
"Beg to report, sir, but must the ministrant be of the same denomination as the one who's doing the communion service with him?"
"Certainly," replied the Chaplain, "or else the mass wouldn't be valid."
"Well, then, there's been a big mistake, sir," announced Schweik. "I'm of no denomination. It's just my luck."
The Chaplain looked at Schweik, was silent for a while, and then he patted him on the shoulder and said :
"You can drink up what's left of the sacramental wine in the bottle, and imagine you've joined the Church again."
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12.
Religious Debate.
It used to happen that for days at a time Schweik saw nothing of the custodian of warriors' souls. The Chaplain divided his time between his duties and his frolics, and on the very rare occasions when he came home, he was bedraggled and unwashed, like a tomcat miaowing on his trips across the house tops.
When he did get back, if he was capable of speech, he would talk to Schweik, before dropping off to sleep ; his favourite topics being high aims, enthusiasm, the pleasures of the mind. Sometimes he tried to recite poetry and to quote passages from Heine.
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Schweik cooperated with the Chaplain in one more field mass, this time for the Engineers. By mistake another chaplain, a former catechist and an extremely pious man, had been invited to attend. He eyed his colleague with amazement when the latter offered him a gulp of cognac from the field flask, which Schweik always took with him to religious functions of this kind.
"It's a good brand," said Otto Katz. "Have a drink and then go home. I'll see to this business myself, because I need a breath of fresh air. I've got a bit of a headache to-day."
The pious chaplain departed, shaking his head dubiously, and Katz, as usual, fulfilled his task with consummate skill.
This time it was a mixture of wine and soda water which was transformed into the blood of the Lord, and the sermon was longer, every third word being "and so forth" or "assuredly."
"To-day, soldiers, you are going to the front, and so forth. Now you are turning your thoughts to God and so forth, assuredly. You do not know what will befall you, and so forth and assuredly."
And from the altar "and so forth" and "assuredly" continued to be heard in tones of thunder, alternating with God and all the saints.
In his excitement and the verve of his oratory, the Chaplain referred to Prince Eugene of Savoy as a saint who would protect them when they were building bridges across rivers.
Nevertheless, the field mass concluded without any untoward incident. It was agreeable and entertaining. The Engineers enjoyed themselves very much.
On the way back an attempt was made to stop them from taking the folding altar with them into a tram car.
"I'll give you a wallop over the head with this holy contraption," remarked Schweik to the conductor.
When at last they reached home, they discovered that somewhere on their way they had lost the tabernacle.
"That doesn't matter," said Schweik. "The Early Christians polished off their mass without a tabernacle. If we was to advertise our loss, the honest person who found it would expect us to stump up. If it was money we'd lost, I don't suppose there'd be any honest person to find it, though there are people like that
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still knocking about. In the regiment I used to be in there was a soldier, a damn fool like that, who found 600 cr
owns in the street one day, and the newspapers called him an honest fellow, which properly blackened his character. Everybody kept out of his way and his girl gave him the chuck. When he went home on leave, his pals kicked him out of the bar parlour where they were having a jollification. He began to look very seedy, and in the end he threw himself under a railway train. Then there was a tailor down our street, and one day he found a gold ring. He was warned not to take it to the police, but he didn't take any notice. At the police station they were very nice to him, and said that somebody had already reported the loss of a gold ring with a brilliant, but when they had a look at the stone, they said : 'Why, my good fellow, that's glass ; that's not a brilliant. How much did you get for the brilliant? We've met honest fellows like you before.' Afterward it turned out that there was another man who'd lost a gold ring with a sham brilliant, a family heirloom, but the tailor spent three days in quod for getting excited and abusing the police. He got a reward of ten per cent., according to the regulations, and that came to one crown twenty hellers, because the sham jewellery was only worth twelve crowns, and he chucked this reward into some chap's face and this chap had him up for slander and the tailor had to pay an extra fine of ten crowns.
"It strikes me that nobody's going to bring back our tabernacle, even though it's got the regimental badge on the back of it, because nobody wants to be mixed up with military doings. They'd rather throw it into the river, so as not to have any bother."
In the evening they had a visitor. This was the pious army chaplain who also wished to officiate at the mass for the pioneer detachment the next morning. Once he had been a catechist. He had a slight limp, the result of an encounter with the father of a pupil whose ears he had boxed for evincing doubts about the Holy Trinity. Now he had come to lead his colleague on to the right path and to take him seriously to task. He began the proceedings by the remark :
The Good Soldier Svejk Page 13