Panorama (26 page)

The Wanderers nonetheless do share a common symbol and that is their flag, a three-cornered cloth, blue with a yellow sun sewn onto it. Attached to a pole, the flag accompanies them on each hike, one of the youngest boys carrying it for the most part, the flag also brought into camp and attached to a good-sized spruce tree whose branches and bark have been stripped away, a rope then attached to it so that the flag can be raised. Each morning before breakfast they all gather round the flagpole, as Alfred steps up and secures the flag and slowly raises it high, while all the others remain quiet, standing there motionless for a moment and looking up until Alfred steps back, bringing the ceremony to a close. At night before they go to bed, the flag is taken down in similar fashion, a couple of torches lit for this, the Wanderers making them out of spruce branches smeared with resin, though when it’s too rainy, paper is also wrapped around them and
dipped into oil just before they are lit in order that they keep burning. Older boys hold these torches whenever the flag is lowered and taken off, at which Alfred yells “Good night!” and everyone answers back the same, after which he takes the flag with him to his tent.

Josef and FHF don’t like this ceremony, Josef being decidedly against the use of the flag, the two friends finding the raising and lowering of the flag way too demagogic, such that it’s counter to the spirit of the Wanderers, Josef declaring, “If the Wanderers really want to be entirely natural, then they have to abstain from using any outward symbols.” He believes that every symbol is extrinsic and leads to disingenuousness, and anyone who is disingenuous is probably also a philistine, though Josef’s proposal to do away with the flag at the annual meeting of the pack is voted down by all the others, after which Alfred explains during a short speech that everything in the world is symbolic, and if you employ a symbol in a disingenuous manner, then it means nothing, for you have to distinguish between a symbol and an allegory, the latter being really false, such as the insignia of political parties or a piece of kitsch that pretends to pass itself off as something that a work of art can express through completely other and more genuine means, an allegory providing only an outline, while a symbol is true to life itself. And so, much to Josef’s regret, the flag remains, while a similar appeal from him and FHF about doing away with raising and lowering the flag in camp was also voted down after fierce debate, during which Willi, Hans, and Fabi declared that the Wanderers needed such a symbolic beginning and ending to each day, Bambus wishing that the ceremony were embellished even more and were accompanied each morning by the recitation of a pledge that all could then ponder, while in the evening there could be a special song. Most were against that, Hans and Willi saying that what they already did was just fine, though FHF laughed at this and said that the pack might as well put up a totem pole like the Indians and beat a drum while yelling “Wahoo! Wahoo! Wahoo!,” though Alfred asked that they not continue arguing and not make fun of what was done with the flag, it being a symbol of their bond with one another, and thus each can be free to think about it however he wished, but they needed to come to an agreement, and so except for FHF and Josef everyone was for things remaining as they were.

Everyone arrived on time at the train except for two little ones, who were late for some reason, one saying that he had a fight with his mother, who wanted him to take along a scarf, to which he replied that no Wanderer would bring that along, she replying, fine, then you will be the first Wanderer to bring along a scarf, at which he answered that he wouldn’t, though the mother kept threatening, fine, then you won’t be going to camp at all, and so the boy had fought with his mother on and on until finally he was allowed to march off without a scarf. As for the other boy who was also late, no one really got upset with him, for he had just recently joined the pack and wasn’t good at telling time yet, so Bambus said to him, “You can go to Willi to get a lesson on how to tell time.” Now everyone is happy to be together and is in a good mood when Alfred says that Willi and Hans should get the train tickets, at which everyone hands over his ID, since after the age of six there are discounts for boys under eighteen who have proper government identification, an additional person over eighteen also allowed to travel for the same price. Alfred also says that Landstein works out very well for them, for the journey there is so circuitous that they won’t encounter any parents who wish to make a surprise visit, as had happened twice before years ago when their camp was located near Bärenloch. Yet Alfred handles such encounters deftly, taking hold of the visitors and quickly showing them around the camp, then taking them for a walk as he accompanies them to a place where they can stay for the night or, better yet, leads them with many thanks straight back to the station, where they head off without fanfare, leaving the Wanderers to return to their quiet, free of guests, and with no insult to anyone. If anyone in the troop has real trouble with his parents, Alfred counsels him as to how to conduct himself, and then it usually works out, but when it doesn’t at all Alfred gets himself invited to meet with the parents, which almost always helps, for the parents quickly respect him, though he is never obsequious.

As soon as Hans and Willi are back, each one takes his knapsack and heads for the platform, where they ask the conductor to point the way to the three reserved compartments, the knapsacks stowed away, the little ones unable to swing their packs up into the storage netting, Willi and Alfred having their hands full, as lots are drawn for the window seats, since they are the best for sleeping, while if you hang up your food bag you can also use that
as a headrest, though the food bag can also slip from the hook, causing you to waken with a jolt. Soon after everyone is aboard they feel hungry, and so they eat their evening snack, and FHF says that it’s the last meal without a taste of the woods, namely dried spruce needles and little leaves and twigs that manage to secretly turn up in anything you eat, one always having to check to make sure and fish out any from the soup and anything that’s laid out, though Alfred maintains, “Boys, that’s good for you! That you can digest! It’s only a taste of the forest!” Still, he also spits when a taste of the forest happens to land in his mouth, while the meal in the train contains no such ingredients and is a real potpourri, since each boy has brought something different from what he normally eats at home, such that some rather unusual combinations are served, because no one, except perhaps the newest members, who have not yet learned to raise enough fuss at home, brings anything that’s pre-prepared, for that’s stupid compared with hacking off a slice of bread from the loaf, everything better if it can be bitten off and not just consumed in little bits.

Josef and FHF are inseparable. Unfortunately Alfred doesn’t sit with them, but with Hans and Willi instead, while Bambus and Fabi sit in the third compartment. Josef prepares the evening snack in his compartment, because FHF doesn’t care much about it, preferring instead to hold forth with stories about last year, after which he says what he knows about Landstein. Because he’s interested in geography and history, he knows a hell of a lot, having already researched how many inhabitants there are in Adamsfreiheit and the surrounding villages, arguing that the Bohemian forest in Schiller’s
The Robbers
lies neither in the Erzgebirge nor in the Bohemian forests, but rather in the woods surrounding Landstein, though FHF wants to ask Ranger Brosch about it, and hopefully he’ll also be able to tell him where he can find the best traces of the
legio decima
, while because FHF is so knowledgeable Alfred has recommended, “Write a history of Landstein, but it needs to be ready by the Festival of the Great Commander!” To this FHF replies that he can’t promise anything, but he does already know how Sichelbach got its name. “This is how it happened. One of the knights from Landstein once boldly and briskly rode on his mare along the length of a creek in his golden armor. He then spied something shining in the creek. Undaunted, he climbed down from his noble steed. Curious, he reached
into the water and, to his complete surprise what did he pull out? Yes, a sickle! At this the mighty knight made a solemn vow that here at this momentous spot he would found a village. That village was to be called Sichelbach. And, as promised, so it came to be.” After this moving legend, FHF asked if they wanted to hear more stories about the ancient past of Landstein and its surroundings, but everyone thanked him and said not just right now but, rather, as soon as FHF could attach exact dates to them, at which FHF immediately promised to do just that, for he is never afraid of providing dates and he could already embellish any one of his stories with the proper dates, but now his humble calling involved making sure that everyone ate fast and got to sleep in order to get the proper rest before his next lecture.

The train is already almost an hour late before it finally departs, so that already some of the boys have grown impatient, one of them calling out, “We should be helping the engineer!” Willi hears this from the neighboring compartment and replies that such help will be needed on the narrow-gauge train to Adamsfreiheit, when it will be hard for a pedestrian to walk as slowly as the train as it climbs the mountain, and, should the train be completely full, the conductor will ask them to get out and help push it, the danger being that you have to make sure to quickly jump back on as soon as it starts heading down the mountain, for then the train begins to race madly along. Hans states that he has heard from the station manager about the kinds of mishaps that have happened on the railroad, and which required only the most courageous of engineers, a cow once having walked onto the tracks that refused to budge, the express train having to slam on its brakes, the whistle blowing for all its might, though the beast didn’t stir from its spot, the engineer finally having to climb down with some valiant men, who talked soothingly to the cow for a long time, until the cow standing there with its long rope finally grasped that the express train desired free passage to Adamsfreiheit, at which the cow quite courteously moved away from the tracks, and the train steamed off to its final destination without further mishap.

The train was off as soon as Hans finished his thrilling story, the conductor then appearing to ask for their tickets, as Hans begins to look around but cannot find them, saying that Willi must have them, though Willi answers
back, “No way that I have them! You’re the one who paid for them and stashed them away!” Then Hans looks some more, Willi beginning to search as well, both of them finding nothing, and then Hans begins to think that it’s not entirely impossible that he gave the tickets to Alfred when they came through the gate, therefore the tickets must be with the money, at which Alfred begins to rummage around, even though he also protests that this couldn’t be true, as he confidently pulls out the wallet, there being no trace of the tickets inside it, the conductor growing impatient, which causes Alfred to explain to him in detail that they couldn’t possibly be trying to get away with something, for the group would not have been let through the gate without any sign of having tickets. The conductor then says that he’d love to believe that but he still needs to see the tickets, and Alfred responds that he understands but certainly the three reserved compartments are evidence enough that they also had tickets, to which the conductor answers that he doesn’t doubt anyone, he really doesn’t, but he still needs to be able to say that he has punched their tickets, otherwise he will have difficulties if an inspector shows up, at which Willi, Alfred, and Hans rummage frantically through all their bags, pulling everything out, the others beginning to rummage as well, even the smallest, as Hans calls out in exasperation, “I don’t have the tickets! Everyone keep looking!” Everyone searches now, all of them nervous but remaining calm, only Hans sweating, upset and angry as he is with FHF, as he declares, “What a fine beginning to the history of the Landstein summer camp this will make. And so the epic will start. A classic Homeric opening, the heroes search for a flea.” FHF replies by saying that he doesn’t need to search, he knows that he for sure doesn’t have the tickets. Meanwhile the conductor’s face begins to darken, as he says impatiently that he doesn’t have all day to waste his time with the young gentlemen, the train is overfull, but by the time they get to Beneschau he has to make sure to get through the entire train, the rules are the rules and they have to be followed, and he can’t be blamed for doing his job, it being the young gentlemen who are causing all the trouble. Alfred tries to appease the conductor, saying that the Wanderers certainly don’t want him to neglect his duty to the railroad, they will find the tickets, Alfred asking the conductor if he could go through the rest of the train and then come back to them, by which time the tickets will surely have been found, at which the conductor
asks where the young gentlemen are traveling to, and when Alfred tells him their destination he calculates with relief that it will be almost five hours before they change trains, which means there’s plenty of time, at which Alfred hands him three cigarettes, which he always keeps with him for such moments, as the conductor thanks him with a smile and heads off in an amiable manner.

Now the real search begins, Alfred, Hans, and Willi trying to think what could have happened to the tickets, combing their memories for any possible clue, but it does no good, each asking the other’s pardon, though the tickets don’t turn up, and Hans complains how awful it all is, such a drain on their funds, meaning that the camping trip will have to be cut short by two or three days or they will have to eat less, though Alfred tries to calm him down, saying that Hans shouldn’t worry his head about all that right now or about anything else for that matter, but instead just take out everything from his pack, everyone needing to look around as well under the seats, Bambus finally walking over from his compartment to stand in the passageway outside Hans’s compartment, watching for a while before he asks, “Hans, where did you put your map case?” This is a case for the maps that belong to the pack, and Hans slaps his forehead as he says, “That could be it!” He reaches for the map case and, indeed, there are the tickets, everyone quickly relieved, a cascade of laughter and ribbing pouring over Hans, Willi giving him a second friendly slap on his forehead, as Alfred says, “In the end it didn’t matter, but the Landstein Camp has survived its first great adventure even before opening up.” FHF then adds somberly, “The historian, meanwhile, notes the loss of three cigarettes to the conductor.”