Steiner frowned. ‘You don’t have to tell me what our orders are,’ he said hoarsely. ‘Are we on top of the hill or aren’t we?’
‘We aren’t,’ Faber replied firmly, and Steiner thought he detected a trace of disdain in the woodsman’s blue eyes. He opened his mouth for a retort. But then he set his lips, turned his back on Faber and started forward, making huge strides, toward the sounds of fighting. Faber and Hollerbach followed him at once; Krüger remained standing, looking after them with annoyance. But when he saw the other men clambering out of their holes, he turned to Kern. ‘Let’s go. ’
‘I’ll be along,’ Kern growled, not stirring.
Krüger took a step closer and glared down at him. ‘Aiming to be a slacker, eh? ’
‘None of your business,’ Kern replied rebelliously. But he picked himself up, pounded the dust from his trousers and cursed furiously. ‘Trouble with you bastards is, you can’t wait till you’re dead,’ he wound up grimly.
‘I’ll be glad to have it over with,’ Krüger said.
They joined a group of men who were moving forward slowly, crouching low. Kern’s rage evaporated. His face had grown grey with fear, but he kept close beside Krüger, who moved along with bowed head as though nothing mattered. They advanced several hundred yards. With growing alarm Kern noted that with every step the horizon around them moved back several kilometres. He did not dare to turn his head because he knew that they were now visible from the edge of the woods, where the Russians had their artillery emplaced. For a while he clung to the desperate hope that the Russian artillery observers would, from the distance, be unable to distinguish the German infantry from their own men. But he felt like a man walking naked in front of a crowd. Although there were several dozen others all around him, it was as if he were entirely alone, a solitary target for the Russians. Suddenly he stopped dead. In the distance a series of dull explosions sounded; instinctively he bent his back. Then there was a howl over their heads, dark mushrooms of smoke burst up out of the earth, and they lay pressed against the ground with their eyes closed in terror. Steiner dived into a crater beside Hollerbach. It seemed likely that they were in for a long and systematic shelling. Suddenly he recalled that Fetscher had once insisted that shells never struck twice in the same place. Nonsense. But then he began listening alertly. As suddenly as it had begun, the shelling stopped. It took Steiner a while to credit it. Still sceptical, not trusting the quiet, he clambered out of the hole. But when nothing happened, he tore into action. Even before the thick veil of dust and smoke could disperse, he shouted to the men at the top of his voice. Seconds later they were running after him, taking grotesque leaps over obstacles.
The encounter with the Russians was a surprise to both sides. Unexpectedly, the ground suddenly sloped off to the north, and as Steiner and his men reached the top of the hill, they stood still for a few seconds, staring at the scene before them. The steep slope below them was, like all the rest of the terrain, pocked with innumerable shell-holes. Almost all of these were occupied by Russians. They lay side by side, firing steadily at some invisible enemy further down the slope below them. The sight of those backs turned unsuspectingly toward the top of the hill was so utterly fantastic against the vaporous background that the men were momentarily stunned. They stood in a long chain on the edge of the incline, utterly motionless. Then, out of the corners of his eyes Steiner observed Faber setting up the heavy MG with almost reverential care. He crouched down behind it. The others came to life also. When Steiner raised his fist into the air, a deafening roar of concentrated rifle and machine-gun fire rolled like an avalanche, down the slope. Steiner had time to notice the Russians turn around in their holes and throw agonized glances up the slope, while below them a white flare rose triumphantly. While he blindly emptied his magazine he felt an intoxicating, nameless gratification that made him forget to take cover. When the painful blow twisted his body around in a quarter turn, he did not become aware of its meaning until the sub-machine-gun dropped from his hands and a cry of alarm reached his ears. He staggered back, sank to his knees with face contorted by pain, and grasped his right shoulder. Krüger was at his side in a moment. Anxiously, he bent over Steiner and shouted something which was lost in the din of the firing. Hollerbach and Kern came rushing over. They carried him back several dozen yards and laid him on the ground with infinite care. ‘Is it bad?’ Krüger asked worriedly. Steiner shook his head. He felt the need to reassure them. ‘Flesh wound or something,’ he said tightly, looking at his shoulder, where his tunic was gradually darkening. The pain was bearable, but he had a queerly numbed feeling in the whole top part of his body.
Up ahead the men of the battalion had vanished as though a sudden gust of wind had blown them down the slope. He recalled that it was his duty to lead the attack. But before he could say anything, loud shouts, then cheers came from down below. ‘Got them,’ Krüger exclaimed. He raced ahead to the spot where Faber was still lying behind his MG, and peered down the slope. ‘They’ve met the Third,’ he shouted back. ‘You ought to see the Ivans with their hands up.’ After a while he returned. ‘We’ll have you at a dressing station in a shot,’ he said to Steiner. ‘But first let’s see what you’ve got. ’
Carefully, they removed the tunic and cut open the blood-soaked shirt. ‘Shoulder wound,’ Krüger delivered his verdict. ‘The bullet must still be in there. Let’s hope it didn’t touch the bone.’
They put an emergency bandage on the rapidly bleeding wound. Steiner’s face was grey, but he was able to stand on his feet fairly well. While Krüger and Kern supported him on both sides, Holler-back picked up his light assault pack, slung the Russian tommy-gun over his shoulder and followed them. Since they did not want to go back by the exposed route over the hill, they cautiously descended the slope where the men had their hands full gathering in the prisoners. Within a few minutes they reached the 3rd Battalion’s command post. Only then did they notice that Faber had trailed along with them.
Krüger turned to one of the men hastening past and found out that the dressing station was in a hollow a few hundred yards further to the west. As they walked on, Steiner reflected with satisfaction that the counter-attack had been a complete success. They could set up the switch position now and wait quietly for the assault regiment to arrive. He felt somewhat better; aside from the dull throbbing in his shoulder, he was all right. The terrain before them began to drop. Shortly afterwards they came upon the dressing station bunker, hidden in the midst of dense shrubbery. Several men with minor wounds, wearing white bandages on their heads or arms, were standing or sitting around.
Steiner’s shoulder was freshly bandaged. The doctor advised him to wait here until darkness, since it was inadvisable to take the risk of going on to the clearing station while Russian tanks were prowling around. ‘I’ll just give you an injection,’ he said, ‘and you can go back tonight with our supply truck. They’ve established the clearing station in Kanskoye for the past hour.’ Steiner hesitated. Then he shook his head. ‘I’d rather get started right away,’ he said. ‘I can manage the walk to Kanskoye.’
‘You’ll have to go over the hill,’ the doctor warned.
‘I know. But I’ll try it over to this side, and further to the rear.’
‘As you like. You need only follow the brook till it turns north, and then go straight over the hill. You can’t miss the way.’ He nodded and returned to the bunker.
Steiner turned to his men, who were standing gloomily around, looking down at the floor.
‘I’ll be back soon,’ he assured them. ‘Don’t put on such expressions. You’re really glad to be rid of me! ’
‘Who’s glad?’ Krüger demanded loudly, plucking furiously at his nose.
Steiner grinned. ‘You more than anybody.’
Krüger gasped angrily and shouted: ‘Me!’
‘Yes.’
‘Take it easy,’ Hollerbach advised. But Krüger was working himself up into a rage. ‘You know what you can do for me?’ he
bellowed still louder.
Steiner nodded. ‘You’d love it, wouldn’t you?’ he said amiably.
Hissing between his teeth, Krüger turned and stalked away past the medical bunker. He disappeared in the bushes.
‘You shouldn’t have said that,’ Hollerbach reproached him.
‘Rot,’ Steiner replied, himself a bit irritated. ‘He’s as thin-skinned as a girl, but in five minutes he forgets all about it.’ He turned to Faber, who was standing, silent and grave, beside them. ‘If I get back to Freiburg,’ he said to him, ‘I can look up your family. Shall I? ’
‘They’d be glad,’ Faber replied. ‘Tell them not to worry about me. And if you see Barbara, say hello to her for me. ’
‘Who is she? Your girl? ’
A faint, mischievous grin passed over Faber’s face as he answered: ‘A birch, a sapling birch.’
It was hot and still now, as if there were no war at all, no Hill 121. 4. A narrow stream wound westward, through green bushes, and the landscape stretched on for mile upon mile. Steiner felt the sadness of parting as if it were a harmless but troublesome disease. You never get used to it, he thought. It’s always the same and always new. He stretched his good arm. ‘Maybe I’ll meet Schnurrbart somewhere. If he comes back before me, tell him to look after all you babies.’ He hesitated. Then, impatience and emotion in his voice, he began rapidly shaking hands all around. Hollerbach offered to accompany him to Kanskoye.
‘Drop us a line once in a while,’ Kern said. His watery eyes were sad. With surprise Steiner saw that the corners of his mouth were twitching. He turned rapidly away.
Krüger was waiting for him and Hollerbach a short distance away, glowering fiercely at Steiner.
‘You can bring something for me. When you come back, I mean. ’
‘A gravestone?’ Steiner asked.
Krüger curled his upper lip, exposing his fine set of teeth. ‘I’ll get one of those for you some day,’ he retorted. ‘No, I mean something else. You can bring me a bottle of Cologne water.’
‘What for?’ Steiner asked suspiciously.
‘Just in case we have to live in the same bunker again,’ Krüger replied, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.
Steiner nodded. ‘You mean because my nose is so sensitive?’ ‘Who’s talking about your nose?’ Krüger growled.
Steiner shrugged. ‘Well, you know,’ he said innocently, ‘they say people can’t smell themselves.’
There was no answer to that one. ‘You have no idea what a relief it’ll be not to have to see you for a while,’ Krüger said malevolently.
Hollerbach chuckled in advance and looked at Steiner, who delivered his calm reply: ‘No, you’re wrong, I do have an idea. I so often feel the same way myself.’
Before Krüger could speak again, Steiner started off. ‘Take it easy,’ he called loudly.
Krüger stood looking after them. They had gone quite a way before he funnelled his hands over his mouth and shouted: ‘Come back soon.’ Steiner raised his sound arm and waved.
For a long while Steiner and Hollerbach walked in silence side by side. Hollerbach glanced at him now and then. He’s tough, he was thinking, to be able to walk this distance with his wound. After a while he caught himself wishing that he himself would not have to go back.
‘I’d like to be going with you,’ he said.
‘Where to?’ Steiner asked.
‘Home, of course.’
They slowed their pace. Steiner looked off toward the hills. ‘Home?’ he repeated softly. ‘Where is that?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Do you know where your home is?’ he asked.
‘I’m not an idiot.’
‘That’s a moot question.’ Steiner grinned. Then he became serious again. ‘You’re at home where you’re happy, isn’t that so?’ ‘Of course.’
‘And were you happy at home, really happy?’
Hollerbach hesitated. Steiner nodded. ‘So you weren’t. Being at home is nothing more than crude habit and the pitiable knowledge that we don’t have to worry where we’re going to spend the night. It’s being with a few people you like, and when you lose those few, you can’t stand the place any more because everything around you reminds you of them. And being at home means giving up voluntarily all the things you don’t have at home. It’s the damned commonplaceness of existence and an infernal mirror that shows you the wrinkles coming in your face. Believe me, of all the illusions in our lives the biggest is the idea that somewhere is home for us. There isn’t any place really where you can keep your balance without dancing like a tightrope walker. Do you see what I mean? ’
‘No,’ Hollerbach said.
Steiner frowned. ‘No wonder. There’s a lousy clever system in it. From childhood on they put blinkers on us so we won’t see to either side of us. Every time, just before you’re about to see, they toss you a bone like you were a dog. You can sink your teeth into that and forget about it all for a while. The older you get and the more demanding you become, the bigger the bone. But when the time comes that you’re sick of it all—school, job and so on— then they throw you the biggest bone of all. That’s the one that really does the trick; it’s guaranteed to wear your teeth down because it keeps you busy even in bed, so that you don’t have a minute to spare to think about other things. Ah...’ He waved his sound arm disgustedly.
‘What is it you really want?’ Hollerbach asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Steiner answered tonelessly. ‘You always think you no longer have any illusions. But believe me, the biggest illusion of all is believing you’re without illusions. ’
They had covered somewhat more than a mile by now, and his shoulder was beginning to ache viciously again. They ought to be level with Kanskoye soon, and it was getting to be time to cross over the hill. He looked up along the road, marked by the tracks of innumerable vehicles. It ran almost due west and disappeared in the distance beyond a gentle undulation in the landscape. Probably it led to Kanskoye, swinging in a big arc around the hill. On their left, about twenty yards away, the brook turned sharply off toward the north and appeared to lose itself in an endless plain. This must be the spot the doctor had mentioned. Steiner came to a stop and looked up the hill.
‘What’s the matter?’ Hollerbach asked, wiping the sweat from his brow.
‘We have to cross over here,’ Steiner said. ‘But let’s have a cigarette first.’
They dropped to the ground where they were, and Steiner swung off his tunic, which he had hanging loosely over his back. He was glad to see that the bandage was not yet soaked through with blood. As they lit their cigarettes, Hollerbach looked down at the ground with a troubled expression.
‘I’m not sure I follow you,’ he said. ‘You’re always talking about somebody tossing us bones. Who the devil is this “they” of yours? ’
‘If I knew that, I’d know everything,’ Steiner replied. ‘But it isn’t something you can prove; you just believe it or don’t. Maybe some day I’ll get to the bottom of it. ’
He looked at the other man. Hollerbach’s face was flushed and dirty. He had removed his steel helmet and his blond hair straggled over his forehead. How little I know about him, Steiner thought suddenly. We never have time for each other; we lie in the same mud for three years and hardly know more than each other’s names. It’s a shame.
‘It’s a shame,’ Hollerbach said.
Steiner grinned at the apparent harmony of their thoughts and asked: ‘What? ’
‘It’s all a shame,’ Hollerbach explained. ‘Everything. In the old days I always wanted to get away from Mudau, my home town, and now I’m away from it and I wish I were back. Then when I think of working my arse off for the lousy railway, I’m not so sure. Why the hell does it have to be like that? ’
‘It’s always a mistake to do more thinking than we’re supposed to,’ Steiner said thoughtfully. He felt his shoulder and went on: ‘They say man is the perfect creature when he’s nothing more than a pretty po
or compromise between an animal and something better than himself. A contradiction, dreaming of nectar and ambrosia and eating pig’s flesh, talking about love—and whoring around every chance he gets, talking about goodness—and being beastly to the other fellow. Not much good. ’
He suddenly felt no inclination to go on with the discussion, and frowned into the distance. Hollerbach started to answer. But at that moment a succession of violent crashes sounded behind them. The rolling echo rumbled above their heads, weird and heart-stopping. ‘Tanks,’ Hollerbach exclaimed.
Steiner nodded. They sat motionless, listening. Those first explosions seemed only the beginning of a regular battle. The cannonade grew in intensity, and interspersed between the louder explosions came the crackle of rifle fire. ‘That must be the assault regiment,’ Steiner said. He recalled Stransky’s mentioning antitank guns.
They could hear motors now also. Hollerbach glanced over at the underbush that grew beside the brook. It would afford good cover. But they sat still, staring up the hill. From where they sat they could see only a little of it because the initially steep slope flattened out somewhat higher up.
By the time they saw the Russian tank tearing down the slope, it was less than two hundred feet away. Steiner uttered a warning cry, turned instantly and made for the underbrush as fast as his legs could carry him. Hollerbach followed at once. But he had taken only a few steps when he remembered Steiner’s pack still lying where they had been sitting. He turned, snatched it up and then ran with desperate leaps after Steiner. He saw that Steiner had come within a few yards of the brook and wanted to shout to him to stick to the left, where the brush was somewhat thicker. At that moment a shattering roar sounded behind him; the earth burst open and he plunged to the ground like a felled tree. He could feel nothing at all, but was still conscious. His eyes remained open and he saw Steiner stop abruptly, turn and stare toward him. And he shouted to him to go on running and throw himself into the brook. But although he shouted as loudly as he could, he was unable to hear his own voice, and astonishment at this fact occupied his mind so completely for the next few seconds that he forgot everything else. His attentiveness returned only when Steiner's figure disappeared behind a cloud of smoke that suddenly appeared between them as though fallen from the sky. Then he saw that Steiner was lying on the ground and behaving strangely. He seemed to be crawling like a crab, and it struck Hollerbach as astonishing that he was not moving forward so much as a yard. It looked so funny that he giggled. Then it occurred to him that there was a stillness all about. He turned his head, and his eyes froze.
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