The Cross of Iron (51 page)

‘I’ll have to spill it out again,’ Schnurrbart murmured. He sat pondering. ‘Now I don’t know any more,’ he said irritably. ‘Yet I knew just what I meant. I could have wrote it down for you, I had it all so clear in my mind.’

‘I can tell you what you meant,’ Steiner offered. ‘You mean that the present is real and the future is illusory, and if we take it the other way around we pass life by.’

‘That’s it,’ Schnurrbart said. ‘That’s exactly what I meant.’ Now that he heard his own thought repeated he was amazed at it; for a few seconds he felt as though he had discovered a wonderful trait in himself which he had never before suspected. Seeing Steiner’s eyes resting upon his face with a curious expression, his sense of having pronounced a profound philosophical maxim grew stronger, and he felt very proud of himself. ‘That’s the way it is,’ he repeated emphatically.

It suddenly occurred to him that he had omitted something. ‘I haven’t told you the queerest business yet,’ he said excitedly. ‘Happened a couple of days ago at Regiment. Krüger and I had to go see Captain Kiesel.’

Steiner raised his eyebrows. ‘Kiesel? What did he want?’

‘Damned if I know. He asked us whether we saw Stransky with us the night I was wounded. Did you see him?’

Steiner shook his head in bewilderment. ‘How could I have? He stayed at the command post.’

‘So I thought,’ Schnurrbart growled. ‘We said we hadn’t seen him, and then Kiesel said he would have to wait till you got back.’

‘Funny,’ Steiner murmured. Frowning, he considered the matter. But he could make nothing of it, and shrugged impatiently. ‘I wish they’d leave me alone. They start hounding a man the minute he comes back.’

Schnurrbart tapped his pipe out on the ground and stood up. ‘Want to come along?’ he asked. ‘I’ll wake Krüger.’

‘I’d want to be in on that,’ Steiner said. He picked up his pack. They entered the house and walked down a long hallway. At the last door Schnurrbart stopped, slowly pressed down the latch, and opened the door slightly. ‘He’s in dreamland,’ he whispered.

Steiner looked in. Krüger was sprawled out on a bed, snoring loudly. As Schnurrbart started into the room, Steiner restrained him. Schnurrbart watched in puzzlement as he took a small bottle out of his pack and held it aloft, winking. ‘What’s that?’ Schnurrbart whispered, ‘Liqueur?’

Steiner shook his head. He opened the door quietly, cautiously approached the sleeping man, and sprinkled his hair and uniform with the contents of the bottle. The remainder he poured into the boots standing beside the bed. With a happy smile, he tiptoed back to the door. ‘We can wake him now,’ he said.

Schnurrbart sniffed. There was a sweetish odour which grew stronger from second to second. Steiner identified it, ‘Scent,’ he said.

‘It stinks something awful,’ Schnurrbart whispered. ‘Where did you get the stuff?’

‘Liberated it,’ Steiner replied. He handed him the empty bottle. ‘Fill that with water, will you?’ Schnurrbart went out, while Steiner stood watching the sleeping man. Krüger moved restlessly, then turned over on his other side. Schnurrbart reappeared carrying a dozen china dishes. ‘What’s the idea?’ Steiner asked. Schnurrbart chuckled. ‘Wake him up. There’s plenty of the stuff in the kitchen.’

Steiner took the refilled bottle from him, and they entered the room. ‘Ready!’ Schnurrbart whispered. Steiner nodded. He watched Schnurrbart raise the pile of plates high. As they crashed down on the floor he uttered so piercing a scream that even Steiner jumped.

The sleeping man started up as though an aerial mine had exploded beside his head. Before he could grasp what had happened, Steiner stepped up to him quickly, held the bottle under his nose and said: ‘I couldn’t get any Cologne water, as you asked, but this stuff is better still.’

Krüger stared at him, his face turning alternately red and white. Then he wrinkled his nose and stammered: ‘Ugh!’ He caught a glimpse of the pile of broken crockery on the floor and suddenly understood. As he sprang to his feet, he bumped into Steiner. The bottle fell to the floor and poured out over the floorboards. Krüger let forth an inarticulate cry of rage.

‘Have you come back for that?’ he roared. ‘Why the devil did you come back at all, why didn’t you stay away?’

Steiner smiled into his burning face. ‘I was homesick,’ he said. ‘Homesick for you.’

Krüger seemed on the point of swinging wildly at him. Then he snatched up his tunic, stepped into his boots and stormed from the room. They followed him. As he sulkily sat down on a garden bench, Schnurrbart and Steiner sat down to his right and left. 

‘He hasn’t improved at all,’ Steiner said.

‘He never will improve,’ Schnurrbart said. ‘A hopeless case.’ 

Krüger groaned and clenched his fist. Steiner laid his hand placatingly on his arm. ‘Come on, make it up, old fathead.’

His voice sounded so gentle that Schnurrbart raised his head in astonishment. He had never heard such a tone from Steiner before. It did not fail to take effect upon Krüger also. He went on growling for a while, but his rage seemed to withdraw more and more into itself like a snail into its shell.

‘That’s better,’ Steiner said. They sat in silence, looking out over the water. Three men in torn uniforms sitting close together on a bench, blinking peacefully up at the sun. Three good friends.

‘Let’s drink to your homecoming,’ Schnurrbart said enterprisingly. He stood up. ‘I’ll get the others.’

They returned to the house. Steiner looked around. The three big rooms were comfortably furnished. Apparently the civilian populace had not been permitted to take their furniture with them, and everything still stood as it had been. As Steiner entered the living room with Krüger, he heard hasty footsteps in the hallway. The door flew open and Kern appeared, with Maag and Faber behind him. For a few seconds they stared at him without a word. He saw their familiar faces, their twitching lips, the pleasure in their eyes, and he was suddenly overcome by an emotion he had not felt for a long, long time. ‘So there you are,’ he said hoarsely.

‘Don’t start bawling,’ said Schnurrbart, coming in behind them with several bottles in his hands. He pushed the others into the room. Kern was the first to go up to Steiner and give him a long handshake. Maag followed. As Steiner turned toward Faber, he saw the woodsman’s eyes resting on him with a curious look, and he suddenly recalled his promise to visit Faber’s family. ‘Sorry to disappoint you,’ he said quietly. ‘I didn’t go home.’

Faber nodded. ‘I received a letter from Barbara yesterday,’ he said. ‘She wrote that you hadn’t come yet. They were looking forward to meeting you.’ 

‘Looking forward?’ Steiner smiled bitterly. ‘To meeting me?’

‘I wrote them about you,’ Faber said.

Steiner smiled with gratitude and embarrassment.

‘Didn’t you have any leave?’ Maag asked.

Steiner shook his head, but gave no explanations.

Schnurrbart had meanwhile arranged the bottles on the table. ‘Sit down,’ he called noisily. ‘What do you say to that?’ Proudly he pointed out the half dozen bottles of champagne, watching Steiner’s face for a reaction. When Steiner remained blank, he shrugged. ‘Doesn’t anything impress you?’ he said in disappointment.

‘Why should it?’ Steiner said, grinning. ‘Every schoolboy knows Novorosisk is full of champagne.’

They sat down. Since Schnurrbart had brought no glasses, they drank straight from the bottles. Kern made a face. ‘The stuff is too warm,’ he commented. ‘I’d sooner have beer. You know...’ He broke off and sniffed ostentatiously.

‘What’s the matter?’ Maag asked.

‘Something stinks of scent.’ Kern declared, glancing suspiciously back and forth between Steiner and Krüger.

‘I thought I smelled it,’ Maag said.

Seeing that all eyes were turned upon him, Krüger smiled maliciously. ‘That’s Steiner,’ he said.

Kern sniffed again. ‘No, that isn’t Steiner. It’s you.’

‘You’re mad,’ Krüger growled. ‘Get yourself a new smeller. The old one isn’t any good.’

Schnurrbart intervened. ‘Don’t bicker,’ he said. ‘We all stink.’ He raised his bottle. ‘Here’s to the champagne-guzzling German army.’ ‘Here’s to the mass grave,’ Maag toasted. They emptied the bottles. Kern wiped his mouth. ‘Open the window,’ he growled. ‘Open it yourself,’ Maag retorted. But then he stood up and pulled the casement windows wide open. Returning to the table, he paused behind Steiner and stooped over him. ‘It isn’t him,’ he said loudly.

‘Of course not,’ Kern said emphatically. ‘It’s just as I’ve always said. There are men who just can’t stand promotion. Soon as they get a little rank their true colours come right out. Goddamn fairies.’ He threw a significant look at Krüger. Krüger’s face slowly reddened. He reached for an empty bottle. ‘Another word,’ he threatened, ‘and I’ll rap this thing over your bean.’

Kern made a placating gesture. ‘Take it easy. I’ve got more practice with bottles than you have. Still and all, you stink like a whore.’

‘I don’t stink,’ Krüger bellowed. ‘It’s Steiner who stinks.’

The men began to giggle, and a fleeting smile passed across even Faber’s grave face. They all looked at Steiner, who shook his head reprimandingly.

‘I beg your pardon, Corporal Krüger,’ he said gravely.

His calmness infuriated Krüger. And when Steiner added that, friendship aside, this was no way to talk about a superior, he sprang to his feet and shouted: ‘You can stick your goddamned rank. This isn’t a question of rank, but of stench, I tell you, of naked stench.’

As he paused to catch his breath he noticed Schnurrbart scribbling something on a sheet of paper he had produced from somewhere. ‘What are you writing?’ he asked suspiciously.

‘Always learning something new,’ Schnurrbart replied dourly. ‘Naked stench. Pretty good.’

Krüger thrust out his chin. ‘So what?’ he said challengingly. ‘Do you think a stench has clothes on it?’

‘No.’ Schnurrbart grinned. ‘But your clothes have a stench on them.’

A lieutenant entered the room, erect in his bearing, firm in his movements. His lively grey-blue eyes scrutinized the men. They had jumped up and come to attention. ‘As you were!’ the officer said tersely. He strode toward them. ‘Drinking parties so early in the afternoon?’ he stated rather than asked. His glance fell upon Steiner, who was standing at ease across the table. ‘Who is that?’ Steiner placed the tips of his shoes together and replied: ‘Master Sergeant Steiner, back from hospital.’

The lieutenant’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘Steiner?’ he repeated. Then he nodded and held out his hand across the table. ‘I am your company commander, Lieutenant März. Have you heard about me?’

‘A few things,’ Steiner said.

März raised his eyebrows. Then he smiled. ‘So have I about you. Some good and some not so good. You will resume command of the platoon at once. Order and discipline. I don’t stand for slackness. If there are any misunderstandings, tell me to my face, but don’t talk about them behind my back. Clear?’

Steiner nodded, taken by surprise. The boy has the temperament of a young colt, he thought.

März turned to the other men. ‘Inspection in one hour. By the commander in person. I don’t want anybody slipping up.’

He was standing close to Krüger now, and suddenly raised his head. ‘Who’s been dousing himself with scent?’

Krüger threw a sideways glance at Steiner and grinned. ‘I mean you, corporal,’ März said sharply. ‘Are you a queer?’

Krüger did not know what to think. But since the lieutenant was looking straight at him, he raised his shoulders helplessly and stammered: ‘It’s not me.’

The company commander’s eyes suddenly flared. ‘Really,’ he said, and with a rapid movement passed his hand over Krüger’s hair. Then he held his hand under his nose. ‘Smell that!’ he ordered.

Aghast, Krüger sniffed. He looked so thunderstruck that Steiner began feeling intensely guilty.

The lieutenant’s voice rang out sharply. ‘If you want to smear scent all over you like a woman, that’s your affair, but if you lie to me it’s my affair. Remember that!’

Before Krüger could recover from his dismay, the company commander was gone. Krüger stared at Steiner’s neutral face.

‘You really do smell awful,’ Steiner said. ‘How could you be so foolish as to deny it to the lieutenant’s face.’

Krüger had come so close to him now that their bodies were touching. He gripped Steiner by the lapels. ‘You know what I’m going to do to you!’ he growled out.

‘Nothing reckless, I hope,’ Steiner replied calmly. ‘It might cost you your stripes.’

Krüger let go of him. ‘I don’t know what’s going to happen in this war,’ he choked. ‘But I can tell you what’s going to happen to you.’

Steiner raised his eyebrows, courteously attentive. ‘What is that, my good fellow?’

‘I’m not your good fellow!’ Krüger roared, beside himself.

‘As you like. What’s going to happen to me?’

‘I’ll keep it to myself,’ Krüger declared menacingly.

‘I’ll die of the uncertainty,’ Steiner said.

‘Go to the devil!’ Krüger shouted at him.

Schnurrbart stepped up to them, raised his head and inhaled the scent with sham delight. ‘What a lovely fragrance,’ he whispered, closing his eyes.

‘Like a rose,’ Kern said.

‘Like a prickly rose,’ Maag added.

Krüger tore out of the room.

The battalion command post was in a small group of houses about eight hundred yards from the waterfront. The company commanders were gathered in Stransky’s office for a short briefing. Lieutenant März sat in a comfortable basket chair listening with boredom to Stransky’s explanations. First Lieutenant Moninger, commander of the First Company, stared absently out of the window at the cloudless August sky. Beside him Lieutenant Hahn, commander of the Third Company, tried to conceal a yawn behind his palm, while First Lieutenant Slallmann studied his fingernails with deep interest. If only he’d wind it up, März thought, watching Stransky with veiled eyes. Stransky, standing behind the table, was throwing a great deal of emotion into his voice. But he now seemed to become aware of the officers’ lassitude, and spoke more loudly. ‘We are in the unfortunate situation of having been forced over from the offensive to the defensive. The momentary calm must not be allowed to lull our alertness, I consider it more important than ever to keep the men well in hand. Tight discipline is the prime factor in keeping a battalion in battle-trim and tiptop shape.’ He emphasized his words by pounding vigorously on the table. ‘I require my company commanders to root out every type of undisciplined behaviour. See to it that the roster is drawn up accordingly. Now is the best time for the men to put their equipment in order. I shall personally look into this matter.’ He glanced at his gold wrist-watch. ‘Inspection begins in fifteen minutes. I shall make spot-checks on the condition of weapons.’ He turned to Triebig. ‘Have we anything else?’