Men of Snow (5 page)

‘Hurry up,’ were the words that had the tall one relax and quickly put on her clothes.

He wanted the whole experience immediately repeated. These images were the treasure, the secret, the store for his needs.

Emptily he saw them leave. They were carrying their sandals as they walked some way around the edge of the lake before cutting across another meadow and disappearing out of sight.

He had never seen these girls before. They were strangers to the valley which made them more of a provocation and had him breathing hard as he started along the path into a narrow line of pine trees.

He could remember the light shifting over the bed of old pine needles. He could smell the fresh sap of the trees and the short ferns beneath them motionless in the final heat of the afternoon.

He stepped off the path into where some of the trees were closer together and their needles were dark and spongy underfoot, the sun glazing over the bright ferns.

He took off his clothes and started walking about, rubbing the soft plant fronds over his hot skin, feeling his cock harden as the girls were in his memory, the results of his watching, with their glistening bodies, there for him, to see, to want, to take as he lay down to the throb of his excitement as the images and the smell of the pine and the light on his face as his hands had only to touch before he rolled over, pushing and jerking himself into the soft needles, bright and hot and given to the earth, given for the first time deep and pushed and tight.

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It was the next evening when he came into his dormitory to find Steiner the only one there.

‘Where are the other two?’ he said more loudly than he had wanted.

‘Frumm will be playing cards somewhere and Schultz will be washing his underwear again.’

Franz sat on the edge of his bed and started to unbutton the collar of his uniform.

‘Are you alright?’ he was asked.

‘Why shouldn’t I be?’

‘You sound edgy.’

‘Well I’m not.’

Steiner went over to the window.

Franz tried to control the tension he felt.

Rain rattled against the window’s glass and there was the sound of boots along the corridor outside.

‘We don’t have to mention it if you think that would be best. I’m not sure you see. I can’t tell what you want or what you’re thinking about it. I suppose that’s the only reason I’m talking about it all. I’ve thought if you ever did come back here whether I should say something about what happened or just leave it. This is not for me you understand. I’m just not sure whether it would be helpful or not. I’ve not said anything to anybody else, of course I haven’t. This is strictly between the two of us. The last thing I want is to make it worse for you.’

All of this had been said with Steiner’s back still to Franz.

‘Let’s just say I sympathise. It’s just the worst luck and could have happened to anybody. You can never predict these things. You don’t know how you’re going to be until, well, until it’s too late. I just wonder if you’ve thought about the next time. I’m sure you have, and how you’ll be, whether you’ll manage.’

‘I will,’ Franz said stiffly.

‘Of course you will.’

‘And you’re right. I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘So long as you don’t think I’m holding something over you. That’s not what I want at all. You see this has been on my mind because I wasn’t sure whether they would accept you back or whether you’d have to start with the next recruits. I knew you’d been doing really well before....before the accident. I knew you had high marks in everything and it’s obvious that you’re officer material. That’s not me trying to sound smart or anything, I just know you have what is necessary to become a good officer.’

‘I’d rather leave it.’

At that Steiner turned round, ‘There’s going to be a war.’

‘I know.’

‘It seems our generals had no faith in our Fuhrer to begin with, but now that’s all changed. That’s why the next weeks are so important, for all of us.’

‘You have no idea what I’m thinking. You have no idea at all.’

Steiner smiled, ‘I’m not sure that’s significant. I suppose nobody knows that about anybody. It’s the impression. That’s what counts.’

‘Not to me.’

‘But we’re not talking about that Franz.’

‘What are we talking about?’

‘Trust Franz, I’m talking about trust.’

‘It doesn’t exist.’

‘But what about the oath to our Fuhrer?’

‘What about it?’

‘Is not that a pledge of trust?’

‘It’s what I have to do to become an officer, a soldier.’

‘And that’s all?’

‘Yes.’

‘A means to an end.’

‘That’s all we are. For the greater good.’

‘And I suppose you’ve read so much you know what that entails?’

Franz brushed past him to go to the door.

‘What happened won’t go any further. That’s all I wanted to say.’

‘And I heard you.’

‘Well that’s alright then,’ Steiner said in a strained attempt at a lighter tone as Franz went out into the corridor.

He stopped for a moment trying to focus his anger into thought. The trick was to concentrate on the first thing that came into his mind. But instead of that he looked down the corridor at the gathering of recruits.

‘What’s happening?’ he asked nobody in particular when he reached the group.

‘Some bum fucker,’ was an answer.

Suddenly a second year was standing in his way wanting to know his name.

‘Well Brucker or Fucker or whatever, have a look what happens to recruits who can’t tell the difference from front and back.’

He was shoved through the group into the dormitory.

In a moment there was the smell of shit and his recognition of Strauss, Winkler and Hoffenbach.

Schultz was on the floor tied to the end of a bed. It was Strauss who was spooning the shit across Schultz’s face as Hoffenbach pulled his head back.

‘This is Winkler’s shit, just for you, you a disgrace to the school, to the army, to our country, you bum fucker. Have some more you cock poker, open you cock sucking mouth and have a taste of cook’s stew special,’ Strauss continued as Hoffenbach struggled to hold Schultz’s mouth open.

It was Winkler who brought out the knife.

‘Because if you don’t open your sperm smeared lips of yours our friend here is not only going to shit, he’s going to cut you,’ Strauss threatened.

Tears mixed in with the shit across Schultz’s cheeks.

‘I....I...haven’t......I haven’t......done anything.’

‘Who says you haven’t?’

‘Nobody....nobody.’

‘Well there you are then. Open your fucking mouth, open it!’

As Schultz tried to scream Hoffenbach grabbed his nose and pulled at his bottom lip to let Strauss poke in the spoon of shit.

The stench was strong as Franz stood there with the rest.

‘First one laddie, now open again. Open!’

‘Please....please....’Schultz muttered as a mouthful dribbled down his chest.

At that Winkler ripped open his shirt and cut him at the base of his neck, a short, deep cut.

‘We’re going to make your life here such a fucking misery you’ll be begging to be discharged.’

This time Schultz’s shirt was torn at the shoulder and he was cut again.

As he tried to speak Strauss poked in more shit, the spoon grating against Schultz’s teeth as he pulled it out.

‘That’s better, much better. So you’ll know, you’ll know won’t you?’

‘Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.’

More shit was pasted over his cheeks, forehead and chin, just leaving his eyes blinking in terror as another spoonful was pushed in.

‘Now swallow it.’

Schultz stared up at Strauss before he exaggeratedly swallowed a mouthful.

The rest of them watched in silence.

Finally Strauss, Winkler and Hoffenbach were finished, everybody stepping aside to let them pass.

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That night Franz listened to Schultz crying himself to sleep. He had been cleaned up and put to bed. It was Steiner who had made the story up about Schultz’s being too ill to attend evening assembly.

As he lay there Franz started to remember how when a child he often would sit up on the first steep hill behind his village and watch what was happening in the narrow cobbled streets. It was his small domain. He knew everybody who lived there. He felt the mountains stacked up behind him like some everlasting presence.

It was Frumm the next week who told them about Schultz’s disappearance.

‘The rumour is that poor Schultz got a beating from Strauss and Hoffenbach last night and nobody has seen him since.’

Franz made no response. It was Steiner who spoke.

‘They had no evidence.’

‘Second years don’t need evidence.’

‘If that’s the case why aren’t we implicated?’

Frumm pulled a doubtful expression, ‘Maybe we are.’

‘They think they can do anything.’

‘They can do anything.’

That evening Steiner came across Franz in the library.

‘So what do you think?’ was his first question as he sat opposite.

Franz pretended to read as he said, ‘About what?’

‘Schultz of course.’

‘I don’t think anything.’

‘And I don’t believe you.’

‘Suit yourself,’ Franz muttered.

Steiner waited. There were a few other recruits in the library at tables that had electric lights at each end.

‘We should have a proper conversation sometime,’ he tried.

With an exaggerated sigh Franz put his book down.

‘And talk about what?’

‘Everything, nothing. It’s not planned.’

‘It would be.’

‘The next time we get a pass.’

‘And do what?’

‘There isn’t much choice.’

‘So we go into town and go to the usual beer halls and  ...............’

‘Have a conversation,’ Steiner put in.

‘Schultz was an obvious victim. He was never going to manage. He knew that.’

‘And that’s it?’

‘He would never have made it.’

Steiner forced a smile and sat back in his chair staring at him.

‘Failures are easily exposed in a place like this. It doesn’t take the hierarchy to find them out. Strauss and his mob will do it for them. They can smell weakness a mile away. I suppose that’s being a good officer. You have to know your men. You have to weed out those who might put the others in danger. That’s part of the job, part of the necessary perception.’

‘But what if they make a mistake?’

‘Don’t be stupid. What happened to Schultz was not a mistake.’

‘You sound very sure.’

Franz glanced back at him, ‘You have to be.’

‘So what about the next time we get a pass?’

‘We get a pass. That’s all.’

‘You know what I mean,’ Steiner said.

‘And now you sound very sure.’

‘That’s the problem because I’m not.’

‘So leave it.’

‘I don’t think that’s what you want.’

‘And how the hell would you know what I want?’

At that Steiner pushed his chair back, the light shining on his face.

‘Maybe it’s a necessary perception,’ he said before tapping his heels together and giving a cursory Heil Hitler salute.

Franz returned to his book trying to concentrate.