Officer Factory

This pillar of military justice was a spry little fellow who seemed more interested in the contents of the officers'-mess cellar than anything else. Thus he and Kater got along famously, and Wirrmann found himself with a glass that was full to the brim.

"Well, gentlemen," said Kater, joining the officers,” what a funeral this afternoon! I don't know who one would prefer to find oneself up before—one's Maker or the General."

“I must say you'd make a splendid corpse," said Captain Feders cheerfully. “No question of it—the funeral would make a most happy affair. One's only got to think of all those supplies of yours that would be automatically released."

“Captain Feders," said Kater icily, " I'm surprised to find you in the mess at this time of day. Besides, you're a married man and your wife may be waiting for you."

At this, Feders seemed on the point of losing self-control altogether. All trace of humor vanished from his face. The officers eyed him warily, for everyone knew his Achilles heel though few would have risked wounding him there. Kater had acted carelessly, to say the least.

Feders began to laugh, but there was a raw, dangerous edge to the sound.

“Kater," he said, “if you're surprised to find me in the mess at this time of day, all I can say is that I'm even more surprised to find you here. Normally you should be in that pig-sty of yours by now, trying to keep some sort of order there, to put it mildly. But presumably you've delegated the job to someone else—this fellow Krafft, I suppose. He's got a broad back certainly, so broad in fact, Kater, that he could quite easily carry you off altogether if he felt like it. This fellow Krafft's no fool, I should say, and if I were in your shoes, Kater, I wouldn't be feeling too happy at the moment."

This remark went home all right, and the Captain rose to his feet. “What an irrepressible fellow you are, Feders!" he said condescendingly in an attempt to laugh, but it didn't sound very convincing. Kater left, saying that he wanted to go and inspect some stores that were arriving.

No sooner had Captain Kater arrived in the officers'-mess kitchen and taken a shot of something to boost his morale with, than Judge-Advocate Wirrmann appeared on the scene.

"Anything worrying you, my dear Herr Kater?" he asked sympathetically.

"Nothing important," Kater assured him.

"Then," said Wirrmann, “you should find it all the easier to confide in someone who is well disposed towards you. You can rest assured, my dear fellow, that if it's justice you're after you've come to the right address."

“Now, ladies," said Lieutenant Krafft, beginning his interrogation, " I'd like you to try and forget both that I'm a man and that I'm an officer."

“That won't be easy," said one of the three girls.

“Do your best, all the same," Krafft advised them. “Imagine I'm a sort of neuter, a personification of the law, if you like. You can talk to me freely, without any false modesty."

“We don't have such a thing anyway," said another of the girls.

Lieutenant Krafft now found himself at what might be called the scene of the crime, that's to say in the communications center in the basement of the H.Q. building. Chairs stood in front of a row of switchboards, above which were circuit diagrams with the inevitable poster, “Beware! The enemy is listening!" There was a table in one corner on which stood coffee cups, a jug and an electric kettle. The latter was officially forbidden throughout the barracks, but since it was Captain Kater and not General Modersohn who was responsible for the ban, no one paid any attention to it. In another corner stood a camp bed—the corpus delicate, so to speak—a shabby, battered, rusty iron bedstead, with a mattress and some blankets on it.

Krafft confronted the three girls behind the switchboards. Their figures were well-developed and their faces pretty and innocent-looking. Their honest, friendly eyes regarded him with curiosity. Though the eldest of these girls was barely more than twenty, they were neither particularly embarrassed nor excited, seeming to have no sense of guilt at all.

“What can you have been thinking of, ladies?" asked Lieutenant Krafft warily.

“Absolutely nothing," said one of the girls, which sounded convincing enough.

“Right," said Krafft. “I admit the business demands no particularly strenuous intellectual effort, but some sort of thought-process is unavoidable. For example: why exactly did you have to pick on Corporal Krottenkopf?"

“Oh, anyone would have done," said one of the girls, managing to smile at Krafft, ”and this Krottenkopf just happened to be handy."

Lieutenant Krafft found he had to sit down. The whole affair seemed to him either fearfully complex or else amazingly simple, which sometimes amounted to the same thing.

“At any rate," said Krafft finally, “you did lay hands on him, didn't you?"

The girls looked at each other. They seemed to have come to a pretty careful agreement about what they were to say. Krafft couldn't really take objection to this. He had no particular wish to start a major judicial process. So he simply smiled encouragement at the astonishing creatures.

" It's true," said one of them, a pretty little thing, with a wide baby smile and frank honest eyes, and a sort of roguishness about her reminiscent of her grandmother's era in the First World War, " it's true we took his clothes off, but we then meant simply to throw him out as a sort of demonstration. The trouble was he wouldn't budge."

“You mean," said Krafft in amazement, “this was simply a sort of demonstration!"

“Exactly!" said the unbelievably innocent-looking girl. “Because it's time something was done about the situation in these barracks. There are nearly a thousand cadets and fifty girls here, and no one's allowed to take any notice of us at all. Wherever you go there's supervision and closed doors and we're surrounded by sentries. All we're asking for is a certain amount of social life. We just don't want to vegetate! But human beings mean nothing to this General, he doesn't take the slightest notice of us. And all this had to be said! That was why we picked on Krottenkopf—not because we wanted to start anything with him but because we wanted to draw attention to the situation. Now do you understand?"

Lieutenant Krafft was beginning to see the funny side of all this, though he was determined to tread warily.

“Listen a moment," he said, “I want to tell you a story. When I was a boy and still lived in the country, some of our geese one day waddled across some relatively clean washing put out to dry by our neighbor, who immediately lodged a complaint. Now there were a number of possibilities. First, the geese themselves were wicked. Secondly, they had been deliberately driven over the washing. Or thirdly, they had simply strayed there. The last explanation was the simplest and the best and it wasn't difficult to make it sound plausible. After all, wicked geese or geese that had been maliciously inspired could lead to all sorts of trouble. Trouble of the sort that geese don't usually survive. Now is the moral clear? Or do I have to make myself still clearer?"

The girls eyed Krafft carefully, and then exchanged glances among themselves. Finally the innocent-looking one, who was probably the sharpest of the three, said: " You mean we should simply say it was some sort of mistake?"

" Well, not a mistake exactly," advised Krafft, " but you might perhaps have been playing a trivial if daring practical joke, an innocent sort of tease to get your own back on your tyrant Krottenkopf. Only unfortunately the tease rather got out of hand in a way you couldn't have foreseen. In this way you shift the blame from yourselves without actually putting it on to anyone else. If it was a sort of joke, well, perhaps a few long faces will be pulled about it, but no one's going to lose his head. If, however, it were a serious matter, if there were any question of assault, or something as perverted as rape—then good night, sweet ladies! That could end in jail. Which in certain circumstances can be even more unpleasant than life in barracks."

“How nice you are," said one of the girls gratefully, while the others nodded vigorously. They realized at once that they were lucky to have been allowed to jump back from the fire into the frying pan. “One could really get along with someone like you."

“Maybe," said Lieutenant Krafft. “But don't get it into your heads to pursue the matter further next time you find yourselves bored with night duty and in search of a little diversion."

When Lieutenant Krafft got back to his desk in the headquarters company he found someone waiting for him. This was a slight little figure of a man with the quick agile movements of a squirrel, a pointed nose and the darting eyes of some bird of prey.

“Allow me to introduce myself," the little man said. “My name's Wirrmann—Judge-Advocate. I am interested in the Krottenkopf case."

“Who told you about that?" asked Krafft cautiously.

“Your superior officer Captain Kater," explained the little man quietly but firmly. “Besides, it's all over the mess by now, and being discussed in a rather unsavory manner, which is hardly surprising. All the more reason for getting it dealt with and out of the way as quickly as possible. Your superior officer at any rate sought my advice and I was prepared to give him my fullest support. The case interests me, from both the legal and the human point of view. Perhaps you will let me know how your inquiries have been getting on."

Krafft had had just a little more human interest than he could take in such a short space of time, and now felt the urge to be human himself. Furthermore he found this man Wirrmann unsympathetic, and even though there was this squirrel-like quality about him, the man's sanctimonious courtroom voice jarred on his nerves. Krafft therefore turned on him straight out and said: “I don't regard you as having any authority to act in this case, Herr Judge-Advocate."

“My dear fellow," said the latter, and his eyes narrowed, “whether or not I have any authority to act in this case is hardly for you to determine. Apart from which I am acting with the consent of your superior officer."

“Captain Kater hasn't told me of this—neither verbally nor in writing. And until he does so I must act according to my own judgment. Which means that I'm working on this case alone until I receive further instructions—perhaps from Major-General Modersohn himself."

“Then you shall certainly have them, my dear fellow," replied Wirrmann promptly. And his voice now sounded like a rusty scythe being whisked experimentally through the air. “That is, if you insist."

Krafft looked at the wiry little man with a certain amount of apprehension. Not even the threat of Major-General Modersohn, the terror of Wildlingen, seemed to make much impression on him. These court-martial fellows were gluttons for punishment.

“Well what about it?" urged Wirrmann. “Are you going to let me in on your inquiries voluntarily, or do I have to bring the General into it?"

“Bring anyone you like into it!" said Krafft, losing his temper. “The Commander-in-Chief of the Wehrmacht, for all I care."

“Let’s start with the General," said the Judge-Advocate quietly, whipping round suddenly like a weathercock in a powerful gust of wind, and vanishing from the scene.

“I suppose I can pack my bags now," said Lieutenant Krafft to Elfrida Rademacher. “My brief stay at the training school seems to be over."

“Did someone see us?" asked Elfrida anxiously.

“If that were all," said Lieutenant Krafft, " at least it would be something worth being slung out for."

“In any case I could always say I tried to rape you. That seems the latest dodge."

“Too true," said Krafft. “A dodge, what's more, that's going to give the General a nasty shock."

“Nothing’s capable of giving him a nasty shock," declared Elfrida emphatically. “He wouldn't turn a hair whatever happened. On one of his rounds recently he went into a room where a couple was making love. And what did he do? He walked straight through the room without batting an eyelid."

“He didn't say a word?"

“Not a word. It wasn't necessary. He recognized them both at a glance."

“And had them slung out?"

“Made them get married."

“Even worse," said Krafft apprehensively.

“They’re said to be very happy," said Elfrida, looking out of the window with a smile.

By this stage in his career, Lieutenant Krafft himself was incapable of being shaken. Yet his quarrel with the Judge-Advocate could have only one result if it went against him, namely expulsion in the direction of the eastern front, though just at the moment, any direction would be a welcome relief from the circus in which he found himself. The General could roar at him to his heart's content. The Lieutenant had already been roared at quite a bit without suffering anything worse than a slight strain on the eardrums.

After just half an hour, most of which he spent smoking in the lavatory, Krafft received the anticipated summons to the General. Surprisingly enough, Modersohn didn't insist on the Lieutenant reporting to him in the usual way in full dress uniform. The Major-General merely wished to speak to Krafft on the telephone, and it was to be a telephone conversation of bewildering brevity.

“I understand," said Modersohn without further ado,” that you have refused to allow Judge-Advocate Wirrmann to take part in an investigation you're engaged on."

“Yes, General."

“Why?"

“Because I didn't think the Judge-Advocate had the authority to act in this particular case, General."

“Good," said Modersohn. And that was all, for the present at least.

3. GAMES FOR H SECTION

The youthful voices of the cadets rang through the gymnasium, where a powerful smell of male sweat hung in the air. Captain Ratshelm, the officer commanding Number 6 Company, was personally supervising the three sections under his command, as he always did when they were down for sports or games. Dressed in shorts and a sleeveless shirt he cavorted happily about among his cadets, lending them encouragement and, in so far as he could, setting them an example. For he had a slight tendency to corpulence, and the rosy pinkness of his skin stood out in contrast to the brown sinewy torsos of the cadets.

H Section was the one he was particularly interested in. For it had been bereaved by the sudden death of Lieutenant Barkow and was thus temporarily without a section officer. Until the General appointed a successor to the dead man the company commander voluntarily took on the job himself.

Ratshelm was always happy when he could get into slightly closer contact with his young cadets, being particularly fond of a game of handball, in which he would hop around, grabbing the ball for himself and barging one of his young comrades out of the way in order to get a better shot at the goal. With their damp glistening torsos rubbing against him and the sharp animal tang of their sweat in his nostrils, he felt his heart full of strength and joy and a deep sense of comradeship. And this was particularly true whenever his eyes lit upon Cadet Hochbauer.

“A lovely pass!" he shouted across at him. “More like that one!"

“This fellow Hochbauer's in training all right," said Cadet Mösler knowingly. “For a creep up the C.O.'s arse."

Cadet Mösler had a reputation as a wit. The advantage of this was that almost everything he said was taken as a joke, which saved him a good deal of trouble one way and another.

“Hochbauer’ll have to look out, though," said his neighbor Cadet Rednitz thoughtfully. “There’s plenty of competition."

“Yes, you have to make certain sacrifices to become an officer," declared Mösler, not forgetting to grin inanely.

They were standing rather out of the limelight, right at the back of the field. Mösler was a wiry little fellow with darting eyes which spent most of their time on the look-out for anything in skirts, while Rednitz was a medium-sized, slim figure who however moved like a bear and was almost always smiling about something, though hardly ever laughing. He had already learned not to do that.

“Scandalous we don't have women training to be officers," said Mösler. “I’d be only too willing to play games with them!"

“Bad enough with some of us carrying on like women," said Rednitz. “Or do you want to sleep your way into a commission?"

“It depends on whom with," said Mösler, grinning. “I wouldn't mind a comely young major of thirty or so. It wouldn't be the worst sacrifice one could make for one's Fatherland."

“Half time!" cried Captain Ratshelm. “Change sides!"

The two teams changed sides, and Mösler and Rednitz promptly found their way to the rear again. They had no objection to leaving the main part of the field to the keener sportsmen.

Though Mösler and Rednitz were both only twenty-one, they had already acquired a certain amount of military experience, having developed a sixth sense which told them when their superior officer's eye was upon them. They instinctively positioned themselves where the danger of being spotted was light. Captain Ratshelm was now out in front of them, pleasantly distracted from his supervisory duties by the game and his sporting companions, and Mösler and Rednitz found his back a comforting sight. Now and again they would make a perfunctory move in one direction or another, even occasionally actually pursuing the ball. But this was only because the cold January air left them little option. They had no wish to work up an unnecessary sweat, but they had no wish to freeze either.

“Hochbauer’ll get his commission all right," said Mösler.

“Could become a general," agreed Rednitz, “if the war lasts long enough and he finds enough superior officers to fall for him."

“Coming over, sir!" cried Cadet Hochbauer, in clear, ringing tones. “Into the center!"

“Right!" cried Captain Ratshelm. Skipping forward with what he imagined was remarkable elegance he caught the ball and sent it hurtling into his opponents' half of the field, where for some reason or other one of the cadets dodged aside and the ball went into goal.

Yet another point scored. The Captain's team was well ahead, as was only to be expected. Once again Ratshelm felt that his own remarkable versatility had been overwhelmingly demonstrated.

“They can't beat us now!" cried Hochbauer happily.

“Our opponents are putting up a great fight, though! All honor to them!"

This man of honor, Captain Ratshelm, a professional soldier and an officer out of deep conviction, was utterly dedicated to the training company under his command. He had three sections under him in all, G, H and I, each of which had on its strength forty cadets, one section officer and one tactics instructor. It was Ratshelm's gift to be able to unite in his own person all those qualities required to produce the officers of the future. There was no field in which he was not an expert; he was planner, instructor, educator, all rolled into one, and above all a true comrade-in-arms. Although himself only a few years older than his cadets, he felt like a father to them, and the love which he so devotedly bore them was a father's too; or so at least he convinced himself.

“Well done, Hochbauer!" he cried, puffing slightly as he scored yet another goal. “A lovely pass!"

“You were beautifully placed again, sir!" replied Hochbauer, his eyes shining with admiration.

It would never have occurred to Captain Ratshelm to feel flattered, it was enough for him that he was appreciated. True he had a fatherly love to bestow, but in return he looked for nothing but respect, and he never had the slightest fear that the depth of his affection might in any way constitute a threat to discipline.

Just then the ball hit him full on the side of the head. He swayed slightly, and for a moment it looked as if his legs were going to buckle under him. However, though his head was throbbing fiercely he managed a sporting smile in the best officer tradition.

“Sorry sir," called out Cadet Weber from the other side of the field. “I didn't mean it to be so hard."

“Foul!” cried Cadet Hochbauer, springing to the Captain's defense at once.

Cadet Weber (Christian name: Egon) was a broad, burly fellow, as solid as a well-made piece of furniture. Panting heavily he now pushed his way forward, laboring somewhat with a sense of insult, for he too had his ambitions as a sportsman.

“How would you know what was foul," he said to Hochbauer, “since you don't know what's fair?"

For a moment it seemed as if Hochbauer was going to spring at him. But then he looked across at the Captain, who, though still nursing his head, was not prevented from doing what he conceived to be his duty as a sportsman.

“Weber," said Captain Ratshelm severely, ”no arguing while the game's in progress. You're sent off!"

“Greetings, fellow sportsmen," said Cadet Weber, trotting over to Rednitz and Mösler. “Have you heard? I've been sent off. Not a bad trick for getting a spell of rest, eh? I'm going to patent it."

“I’m afraid," said Cadet Mösler, “that if your friend Hochbauer has to choose between you and the Captain there's little doubt where his choice will lie."

“Who cares?" said Weber indulgently. “The main thing is I managed to catch Ratshelm a crack on the head—all in the spirit of the game of course—and I've earned myself a breather as a result."

“All the same," Rednitz reminded him, “Hochbauer did say it was a foul."

“He’s right too," said Weber, quite unabashed. “I have no hesitation in playing foul in that sort of game, but I'm not going to admit it to those bastards."

This was typical of Cadet Weber (Christian name: Egon), whose imperturbability and disarming frankness allied to a bulldog-like temperament made him the least vulnerable of men. With such a remarkably thick skin he could count himself a useful soldier.

“What about a go with the medicine ball?" he suggested.

Mösler and Rednitz agreed—medicine ball was easily the best way of avoiding trouble; it kept one warm without requiring any effort, rather like the friendly sort of games that children play.

The three cadets retired from the game of handball altogether, without anyone noticing them. Ratshelm was still in the thick of things, playing with great abandon and setting an example which he felt sure everyone else would follow. He didn't exactly suffer from a sense of inferiority.

“Heard the latest?" Cadet Weber asked.

“What’s that?" asked Rednitz with a smile. “Apart from the fact that your friend Hochbauer thinks you don't play fair."

“Oh hell," rejoined Weber good-naturedly,” I know you can't stand Hochbauer, but I can't think why!"

“You know quite well why," put in Rednitz.