The Washington times., 1931-11-03
CHAPTER 20

Scnool we meet our old chum,
Georg Rahe. He was lieuten-
ant and had charge of a COM
pany, but on leave he only got
drunk and loafed about, and
took no thought for his finals.
So now he is going back into
upper second again, where al
ready he has been twice left
behind.
''Is it true, Georg," I ask
him, that you've become such
. crack Latin scholar up the
line?"
He laughs and stalks off on
his long legs to the grammar
school.
Watch out you don't get a
bad conduct mark" 1 shout
after him.
He was an airman for the
last, six months and brought
down four Englishmen. But I
don't believe he can still
demonstrate Pythagoras' the
orenl.
We 60 on to the Teachers
College. The whole lane Is
teeming with uniforms. Faces
suddenly loom UP that one has
almost forgotten; names one
has not heard Of for years.
Hans Waldorf hobbies along.
We carried him out with a
shattered knee in November,
1T. His leg has been ampu-
tated at the hip; now he wears
q heavy, jointed, wooden leg
and thumps along on it noisily.
Kurt Leopold appears and in
PRODUCES himself laughingly:
Godfrey of the Iron Hand.
Gentlemen!" He has an arti-
ficial right arm. Then some one
comes out at the gate and says
in a gurgling voice: You don't
recognize me perhaps, eh?"
A Facial Study
I study the face, if such it
can still be called. Across the
forehead is a broad, red scar
that runs down into the left
eye. There the flesh has grown
over, so that the eye lies
buried, deep and small. But
it is there still. The right eye
is fixed; that is glass. The nose
is clean gone a black patch
covers the place. The scar con-
tinues below it and splits the
mouth in two. The mouth
itself is bulbous; the parts have
grown together askew-hence
the unintelligible speech. The
teeth are artificial. A bracket
is visible across them. In
doubt still, I continue to look
at him. paul Rademacher,"
says the gurgling voice.
I recognize him now. Why,
YES, of course, the gray suit
with the stripes.-"Wen, Paul!
And what have you been doing
to yourself?"
"Can't you see?" he says,
trying to straighten his lips.
"Two cuts with a trenching
tool.-And these went with the
rest" He shows a hand from
which three fingers are miss
ing. His one eye is blinking
distressfully. The other looks
straight ahead, fixed and un-
concerned. Wish 1 knew If 1
could still be a school teacher.
NV speech is pretty bad, isn't
It? Can you understand me?"
Sure" 1 answer. And it
will improve too, as time goes
on. Besides. they'll be able to
operate on it again later, Of
course"
He Shrugs his shoulders and
says nothing. He does not
seem very hopeful. If it were
possible at all, they would have
done so already. no doubt.
Willy barges his way through
to us to give us the latest news.
Borkmann, we hear, died of his
lung wound. after all. He
developed galloping consump-
ton. Henze, too-he shot him
self when he found out his
spine injury could only end in
an invalid's chair for life. No
wonder-he used to be our best
footballer. Meyer was killed in
September: Lichtenfeld in June.
Lichtenfeld was out there only
two days.
The Very Same
We stop suddenly. A diminu-
tive little figure is standing
before us.
"No? Not Westerholt?" says
Willy incredulously.
"The very same. you old
mushroom" he answers.
Willy is staggered. But
you're dead!"
"Not yet" retorts Westerholt
amicably.
But I saw it in the news
paper!"
"That was Just a misprint,"
says Westerholt, with a wide
grin.
"A man can't rely on any
thing these days!" says Willy,
shaking his head. II thought
the worms had eaten you long
ago!"
after you, Willy" answers
Westerholt complacetly. You'll
be the first, Red-haired people
never live long"
We go in. The quadrangle,
where we used to eat our bread
and butter at 10 O'Clock. the
claSsrooms with the desks and
the forms, the corridor with the