The Good Soldier Svejk

by Jaroslav Hasek

  "Sorry, sir," stammered Baloun. "Beg to report, sir, that -"

  Lieutenant Lukash looked at him. At that moment he was like a big baby, and Lieutenant Lukash suddenly regretted having had him tied up because of his huge appetite.

  "Carry on, Baloun," he said, as he unstrapped his sword. "Tomorrow I'll get them to issue an extra bread ration to you."

  He then sat down at the table, and under the influence of his mood at the moment, began to write a pathetic letter to his aunt :

  Dear Aunt,

  I have just received orders to be ready with my draft to leave for the front. It may be that this is the last letter you will ever receive from me, for the fighting is very severe and our losses are great. It is therefore difficult to conclude this letter by saying "au revoir." I think I ought rather to send you a last farewell.

  * * *

  "I'll finish it off in the morning," decided Lieutenant Lukash, and went to bed.

  When Baloun saw that the lieutenant was sound asleep, he again began to meddle and ferret about all over the place. He opened the officer's trunk and was nibbling at a stick of chocolate, when the lieutenant stirred in his sleep. He started up in alarm and hastily put the chocolate back. For a while he lay low and then he stealthily peeped at what the lieutenant had been writing. He read it through and was deeply touched, especially by the reference to a last farewell. He lay down on his straw mattress by the doorway; amid thoughts of home and the slaughter of pigs there he dropped off into an uneasy sleep. He dreamt that he was haled before a court-martial for taking a piece of meat from the cook house. And then he saw himself hanging on one of the lime trees in the avenue which led through the camp at B ruck-on-the-Leitha.

  When Schweik woke up with the awakening morning which arrived with the smell of coffee essence boiling in all the company cook houses, he mechanically hung up the receiver, as if he had just finished talking on the telephone, and started off on a short morning stroll through the office. He hummed a tune to himself with such gusto that Quartermaster-sergeant Vanek woke up and inquired what time it was.

  "They sounded the reveille a little while ago."

  "Then I won't get up till I've had some coffee," decided the quartermaster-sergeant, who always had plenty of time for everything. "Besides, they're sure to chivvy us about again on some stunt or other, that'll only be a wash-out in the end, like they did yesterday with those tinned rations."

  Quartermaster-sergeant Vanek yawned and asked whether he had been very talkative when he came home.

  "Well, you was sort of flighty," said Schweik. "You kept on saying something about shapes, and that a shape ain't a shape, and what ain't a shape is a shape and this shape ain't a shape. But you soon got over that and began to snore so loud that it sounded as if somebody was sawing a plank."

  The telephone rang. The quartermaster-sergeant answered

  * * *

  it and the voice of Lieutenant Lukash became audible. He was asking what had happened about the tinned rations. Then the sound of expostulation was heard.

  "They're not, sir, I assure you," Quartermaster-sergeant Vanek shouted into the telephone. "How could they be? It's all a lot of eyewash, sir. The commissariat's responsible for it. There wouldn't be any point in sending the men there, sir. I was going to telephone to you about it. Have I been in the canteen? Well, yes, sir, as a matter of fact, I did drop in there for a bit. No, sir, I'm quite sober. What's Schweik doing? He's here, sir. Shall I call him?"

  "Schweik, you're wanted on the telephone," said the quartermaster-sergeant, and added in low tones :

  "If he asks you what I was like when I got home, tell him I was O. K."

  Schweik at the telephone :

  "Beg to report, sir, this is Schweik."

  "Look here, Schweik, what's all this about those tinned rations? Is it all right?"

  "No, sir, there ain't a trace of 'em."

  "Now then, Schweik, I want you to report yourself to me every morning as long as we're in camp. And you'll keep near me until we start. What were you doing last night?"

  "I was at the telephone all night, sir."

  "Any news?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Now, then, Schweik, don't start talking twaddle. Did anyone report anything of any importance?"

  "Yes, sir, but not till nine o'clock. And I didn't want to disturb you, sir. Far from it."

  "Well, for God's sake, tell me what it was."

  "A message, sir."

  "Eh, what's that?"

  "I've got it written down, sir. 'Receive a message. Who's there? Got it? Read it.' Something like that, sir."

  "Good God, Schweik, you're a devil of a nuisance. Tell me what the message was, or I'll give you a damned good hiding when I get at you. Now then, what is it?"

  * * *

  "Another Besprechung with the colonel, sir, this morning at nine o'clock. I was going to wake you up in the night, but then I changed my mind."

  "I should think so, too. You'd better not have the cheek tc drag me out of bed when the morning'll do. Another Besprechung! To hell with it ! Call Vanek to the telephone."

  Quartermaster-sergeant Vanek at the telephone :

  "Quartermaster-sergeant Vanek, sir."

  "Vanek, find me another batman at once. That hound Baloun has eaten up all my chocolate. Are you to tie him up? No ; we'll send him to the medical corps. A hefty chap like that ought to be all right for carrying wounded out of the front-line trenches. I'll send him to you now. Get that settled in the regimental office and then go back to your company at once. Do you think we're starting soon?"

  "There's no hurry, sir. When the ninth draft was supposed to start, they kept us messing about for four days. It was just the same with the eighth. With the tenth it was a bit better. In the morning we had our kit all ready, at twelve o'clock we got orders to start, and we were off in the evening. The only thing was that afterward they chased us all over Hungary and didn't know which hole on which front we were to be stuffed into."

  Since Lieutenant Lukash had been commanding the eleventh draft, he had spent much time in endeavouring to reconcile conflicting opinions. He therefore said :

  "Yes, possibly, quite so, quite. So you don't think we're starting to-day? We've got a Besprechung with the colonel at nine o'clock. By the way, get me a list—Let's see, now, a list of what? Oh, yes, a list of the N. C. O.'s with their length of service. Then the company rations. A list of men according to nationality? Yes, that as well. But before you do anything else, send me a new batman. What's Ensign Pleschner doing to-day? Inspecting the men's kit? Accounts? I'll come and sign them after the rations have been served out. Don't let anybody go into the town. What about the camp canteen? For an hour after rations. Call Schweik."

  "Schweik, you'll stay at the telephone until further notice."

  "Beg to report, sir, I haven't drunk any coffee yet."

  * * *

  "Then go and fetch your coffee and stay there in the office till I call you. Do you know what an orderly is?"

  "A chap who runs about, sir."

  "Well, you've got to stop where you are till I call you. Tell Vanek he's got to find me another batman. Schweik—hallo! where are you?"

  "Here, sir. They've just brought my coffee."

  "Schweik—hallo!"

  "I can hear, sir. My coffee's quite cold."

  "You've got a good idea of what a batman is. Just you look him over and then let me know what sort of a chap he is. Hang up the receiver."

  As Quartermaster-sergeant Vanek sat sipping his black coffee, into which he had poured rum from a bottle labelled "Ink" (for the sake of caution), he looked at Schweik and said :

  "This lieutenant of ours didn't half yell into the telephone. I understood every word. You must know him pretty well by now, I should think."

  "You bet I do," replied Schweik. "Why, we're as thick as thieves. Oh, yes, we been through a lot together. They've tried over and over again to separate us, but we've always managed to get together again. He relies
on me for every blessed thing. Sometimes I can't help wondering why. You heard him just now telling me to remind you again to find him a new batman, and I've got to look him over and make a report on him. Lieutenant Lukash is particular about what sort of batman he gets."

  In summoning another conference of the officers, Colonel Schroder was prompted by his great desire to hear himself orate. Besides this, some decision had to be reached on the subject of Marek, the volunteer officer who had refused to clean the latrines and who had therefore been sent by Colonel Schroder to a divisional court-martial.

  The previous night, Marek, who had returned from the divisional court-martial, had made his appearance in the guard room, where he had been kept under close arrest. Together with him, an extremely muddled report from the divisional court-martial had reached the colonel's office. The report pointed out

  * * *

  that this case could not be construed as mutiny, because the cleaning of latrines formed no part of a volunteer officer's duties, but that the accused had been guilty of "infringement of subordination," which offence could be made good by distinguished conduct in the field. For these reasons the accused was sent back to his regiment and the proceedings in respect of infringement of discipline were to be suspended until the end of the war, but should be renewed on the next occasion of any charge that might be brought against the accused.

  Then there was another matter. Marek, on his arrival at the guard room, was accompanied by a certain Teveles, a bogus sergeant. This gentleman had recently come under the notice of the regiment, to which he had been sent from the military hospital at Zagreb. He wore the large silver medal, the badges of a volunteer officer and three stars. He told some stirring tales about the doughty deeds of the 6th draft in Serbia, of which he claimed to be the sole survivor. As the result of inquiries, it was discovered that at the beginning of the war there had been a Teveles in the 6th draft, but that he was not entitled to claim the rank of a volunteer officer. The brigade to which the 6th draft had been attached after retiring from Belgrade on December 2, 1914, reported that there was no Teveles on the list of names recommended for, or decorated with, silver medals. Whether Private Teveles, however, had been promoted to sergeant during the Belgrade campaign could not be ascertained at all, because the whole of the 6th draft, officers included, had got lost at St. Sava's Church in Belgrade. Before the court-martial Teveles had defended himself by the argument that he had been promised the large silver medal, and that he had therefore bought one from a Bosnian, while in hospital. As regards the volunteer officer's badges, he had sewn them on while drunk, and he had continued to wear them because he was always drunk, owing to the weakening of his constitution by dysentery.

  When the Besprechung started, before dealing with these two matters, Colonel Schroder emphasized the necessity for frequent deliberations before their impending departure. He had been informed by the brigade commander that they were awaiting divisional orders. The rank-and-file must be in fighting trim and

  * * *

  company commanders must carefully see to it that nobody was missing. He once more repeated everything that he had uttered the previous day. He again gave a survey of recent military events and insisted that nothing must be allowed to impair the army's fighting spirit and eagerness for war.

  On the table before him was fastened a map of the battle areas, with little flags on pins, but the little flags had been disarranged and the battle fronts reshuffled. Pins with the little flags attached to them were lying about under the table.

  The whole of the war areas had been scandalously disarranged in the night by a tomcat, the pet of the military clerks in the regimental office. This animal, after having relieved himself all over the Austro-Hungarian areas, had made attempts to bury the resulting mess and had dragged the little flags from their places and smeared the mess over the positions ; whereupon he had wetted on the battle fronts and bridgeheads, and soiled all the army corps.

  Now Colonel Schroder was very shortsighted. With bated breath the officers of the draft watched Colonel Schroder's finger getting nearer and nearer to the small heaps.

  "From here, gentlemen, to Sokol on the Bug—" began Colonel Schroder with a prophetic air, and thrust his forefinger by rote toward the Carpathians, the result being that he plunged it into one of the cat's attempts to impart a plastic character to the map of the war areas.

  "It looks, sir, as if a cat's been—" remarked Captain Sagner, very courteously on behalf of all present.

  Colonel Schroder rushed into the adjacent office, whence could thereupon be heard a terrible uproar and the grisly threats of the colonel that he'd have all their noses rubbed in it.

  There was a brief cross-examination. It turned out that the cat had been brought into the office a fortnight previously by Zwiebelfisch, the youngest clerk. When this fact had been established, Zwiebelfisch gathered together all his goods and chattels and a senior clerk led him off to the guard room, where he was to remain until further orders from the colonel.

  This practically concluded the conference. When the colonel, very red in the face, returned to the assembled officers, he forgot

  * * *

  that he still had to deliberate about the destiny of volunteer officer Marek and the bogus sergeant, Teveles.

  He therefore said curtly :

  "I should be glad if you would kindly remain in readiness, gentlemen, and await my further orders and instructions."

  And so the result was that the volunteer officer and Teveles remained in the guard room, and when later they were joined by Zwiebelfisch they were able to play poker. After that they badgered the sentry in charge of them to catch the lice on their straw mattress. Later on, a Lance-corporal Peroutka of the 13th draft was added to their company. When on the previous day there had been a rumour in the camp that they were off to the front, he had got lost and was subsequently discovered by the patrol next morning at The White Rose in Bruck. His excuse was that before leaving he was anxious to visit the famous greenhouse of Count Harrach in Bruck, and on his return he had lost his way and, deadbeat, had only managed to discover The White Rose at the break of day. (Actually, he had spent the night with the barmaid of that hostelry.)

  The situation became more and more perplexing. Were they leaving, or were they not? Schweik, sitting at the telephone in the office of the 11th draft, overheard the most varied opinions, some pessimistic and some optimistic. The 12th draft telephoned that somebody in their office had heard that they were going to wait till they had been trained in shooting at moving targets and that they would not leave until they had completed the usual course in musketry. This optimistic view was not shared by the 13th draft, which telephoned to say that Corporal Havlik had just come back from the town, where he had heard from a railwayman that the carriages were waiting in the station.

  Quartermaster-sergeant Vanek snatched the receiver from Schweik's hand and shouted excitedly that the railway blokes knew damn-all, and that he'd just been in the regimental office.

  Schweik sat on at the telephone with a genuine attachment to his job, and in reply to all questions his answer was that he knew nothing definite. Then, when Lieutenant Lukash inquired :

  "Any news at your end?"

  * * *

  Schweik replied in stereotyped terms :

  "Nothing definite come through yet, sir."

  "You jackass, hang up the receiver."

  Then came a series of telephonic messages which Schweik received after lengthy misunderstandings. In particular, there was one which could not be dictated to him during the night when he had failed to hang up the receiver and was asleep. This referred to those who had been, or who had not been, inoculated.

  Then there was a belated message about tinned rations, companies and regimental sections.

  "Copy of brigade telephonic message No. 75692. Brigade order No. 122. When indenting for cookhouse stores the requisite commodities are to be enumerated in the following order : I. Meat, 2. Tinned goods, 3. Fresh veget
ables, 4. Preserved vegetables, 5. Rice, 6. Macaroni, 7. Oatmeal and bran, 8. Potatoes; in place of the foregoing, 3. Preserved vegetables, 4. Fresh vegetables."

  When Schweik read this out to the quartermaster-sergeant, the latter declared solemnly that he threw messages like that into the latrine.

  "It's only a stunt that some bloody fool on the staff has thought of, and then they send it out to every blessed division and brigade and regiment."

  After that Schweik received another message which was dictated so rapidly that when he had taken it down it looked like something in cipher:

  "Subsequently closer permitted however has been nevertheless or thus has been notwithstanding the same to be reported."

  "That's all a lot of useless bunk," said Quartermaster-sergeant Vanek, when Schweik, vastly astonished at what he had written, read it aloud three times in succession. "It's all damn nonsense. Christ knows what they think they're up to. Of course, it may be in cipher, but that's not our job. Chuck it away."

  "You're about right, Sergeant," said Schweik. "If I was to report to the lieutenant that he's got to 'subsequently closer permitted however has been nevertheless or thus has been notwithstanding the same to be reported,' I don't mind betting he wouldn't like it.

  * * *

  "Some people are terribly touchy," continued Schweik, plunging into reminiscence again. "I remember once I was riding in a tram, and at one of the stopping places a chap named Novotny got in. As soon as I spotted him, I went over and joined him and started telling him we both came from the same town. But he started shouting he didn't know me and told me to go away and not to bother him. So then I started explaining to him how when I was a little boy I used to visit their house with my mother, whose name was Antonia and my father's name was Prokop, and he was an overseer on a farm. But even then he still made out he didn't know me. So I started telling him some details, just to convince him, and told him how there were two chaps named Novotny in our town, Tonda and Josef. And Josef, so they told me, had shot his wife because she kept grumbling at him for going on the booze. And then he lifted his arm, and I dodged him, so that he smashed a large pane of glass in the tram, right close to the driver. So they ejected us from the tram and took us to the police station, and there it turned out that the reason he was so touchy was because his name wasn't Novotny at all, but Dou-brava, and he'd come over from America to visit some relations."