Evening star., 1930-06-21
Continued From Yesterdays star.)

There was a violent explosion Just
beside him. A grenade had burst in
the trench and he, almost miraculously,
was not hit. Karl Rainer, standing
beside him, had sheltered him, and Karl
subsidized slowly without groan. The
| English were forgotten, for Karl was
Ernst Scheffer's friend, and, whatever
the Herr Leutnant said aobut leaving
/ ones colleagues in an attack, Karl had
to be looked after. There were other
men lying wounded, and Burchardt,
squealing like pig, was wriggling about
in agony on the floor of the trench.
The smoke, blowing over the lines. made
! everything appear uncertain and indis-
| tinct, muddled and confused, as in a
! nightmare.
Ernst Scheffer bent down over Karl
! to see how badly he was hit. A piece
| of the grenade had broken the bone in
his right wrist. so that the hand seemed
to hang by muscles. skin and veins
| alone. And there was a deep tear in
his tunic across his chest. There was
no time for him to dress the wounds
now, but he would try to make Karl
more comfortable in the dugout. and
then come back to him as soon as the
attack was over He was Just bending
down to get his friend under the arms
when he felt blow on the nape Of his
| neck and some one jumped on his back
| from above. He fell over on poor Karl,
who groaned Before he could get up
two men clutched hold of him and
swung him up on to the parapet One
of them caught him round the middle,
hoisted him over his shoulder, and be-
gan jogging over No Mans Land with
him. Ernst Scheffer was still confused
and dazed-the whole thing had hap
| pened so quickly-but he knew wherN
| he was going because he saw, a few
! inchs from his face. a strand of wire
with Gretels red ribbon on 1t. He
struggled violently, but in a few seconds
his captor gave heave, and he fell
over high parapet into trench, where
he lay trying to collect his thoughts.
The man who had carried him was an
officer. who leant against the parapet
painting so deeply that he seemed to be
sobbing. The soldiers all round him
wore British uniforms. Ernst Scheffer
was a prisoner of war.
He scrambled to his feet and stood
with his back against the wall of the
trench. Would they kill him? There
were so many stories, there must be so
many cases, of prisoners who never
reached a prison camp. Suppose they
did kill him, Gretel would never know
what had happened to him. He would
be reported missing, and she would
wonder for months, possibly for years,
whether she ought to wear mourning for
him. She was such a conventional little
BODY that 1t would worry her intolerably,
and Ernst Scheffer felt sorry for her,
and for his small son who would never
know how his father had died. All
these Englishmen we're discussing him
and his fate. While he stood with his
back to the wall he could not be
stabbed from behind, but the evening
sun glinted ominously on their fixed
bayonets. Still dazed and frightened by
the muddle and noise of the raid, and
by the sight of Karl Rainer's hanging,
himself.
Now then. Jerry, stop that row, for
'ev1ngs sake" man urged him. 'Ere's
the colonel coming"
Ernst Scheffer did not understand,
| but an elderly officer with iron gray
hair and q white mustache stood before
him. and automatically he jumped to
attention. The officer gave a curt order
and disappeared. Somebody signed to
the prisoner to follow him, and, with
TWO guards, he set out down q long
communicating trench to q large dug
out, which was obviously battalion head
quarters. The men stared at him WITH
q curiosity which had more OF COM
m1seration than of hostility about It..
but, obSessed as he was by the idea that
prisoners were often fated to be killed,
he shufhed along, head down and arms
hanging loosely at his sides.
AS they entered the dugout where the
colonel was sitting. the sergeant-ma jor
Snatched the Germans cap of his head
IN the approved orderly room manner.
More frightened than ever, Ernst Schef-
Ter began to Whimper again, and went
| down on his knees.
"Mercy-mister-m he begged.
The colonel looked acutely embar-
rassed: and the sergeant nt-major took the
prisoner by his collar and drew him to
his feet.
Come on, sonny" he ordered In q
deep tone which was meant to be re-
assuring, I'VE amt going to 'urt YOU. {"
Years ago the colonel had spent two
holidays in Germany-one on the in
evitable trip up the Rhine, and one
listening to music in Dresden. He
sought painfully in his memory for
| long-forgotten words.
Was ist sein regiment?" he de-
manded.
Addressed by an officer in something
he could recognize as his own language,
Ernst Scheffer pulled himself together.
HIS whimpertng ceased, and he stood to
| attention.
"Wurtembergisches."
Was tSt der hummer Won Bein
regiment2"
"Zwanzig"
"Wann koHnnen sic hier7"
"Gestern abend."
"Wo kommen sic hier?"
"Mein Geburtsort?" asked Ernst
| Scheffer.
Whats that7 'Geburtsort'?" The
colonel was momentarily at a loss.
1t was the Germans turn to remem-
Der the English he had learnt so pain
| fully at school. He remembered, with
sudden vividness walking back through