The Washington times., 1931-11-02

with relish. It tastes mar
velouS. It's a power of time
since last ate a fresh chop.
In Flanders it was-we bagged
a couple of sucking pigs-we
ate them down to the very ribs
one lovely mild summer eve
ning-Katczinsky was alive then
-ach, Kat-Detering-a sight
better they were than these
fellows at home here. 1 prop
my elbows on the table and
forget everything around me. so
clearly do I see them before
me. Such tender little beasts
too; we made potato cakes to
go with them-and Kropp was
there and Paul Baumer-yes,
Paul neither hear nor see
anything now; I lose myself in
memories
A giggle awakes me. About
the table is dead silence. Aunt
Lima has face like a bottle of
vitriol. The girl beside me is
Sitting a laugh. Everybody is
looking at me.
Ill at Ease
Sweat breaks out on me in
streams. There I sit, just as we
did then out in Flanders, absent
minded. both elbows OH the
table, the bone in my two
hands, my fingers c0vered in
grease, gnawins off the last
scraps of the chop.-But the
c:ilers are eating cleanly with
knife and with fork.
Red as a beet root, look
straight ahead and put down
the bone.- How could I so have
forgotten myself? But, to tell
the truth, I hardly know now
how else to gosabout it. We al
ways ate that way at the Front;
at the best Of times, we had
only spoon or fork, certainly
never a plate.
But there is anger too in my
embarrassment-anger against
this Uncle Karl, now beginning
to talk so loudly of war loans:
anger against all these people
here that think so much of
themselves and their smart
talk; anger against this whole
world, living here so cocksure
with their knickknacks and
jiggery-pokery. as though the
monStrous years had never been
when one thing and one thing
only mattered-life or death,
and beyond that nothing.
Grimly, in silence, I stuff in
all I can. 1 mean at least to
be full. Then, as soon as
can, make my way out.
In the lobby is the servant in
the dress suit. I reach down
my things. I'VE should have
had you up the line too, you
lacquered APPEL" I spit. "You
and the whole bunch here!"
Then slam to the door.
Wolf has waited for me out
side the house. He leaps up on
me. Come, Wolf" I say and
suddenly know that it was not
the affair with the chop that
made me feel so bitter: but the
fact that the same vapid. self
satisfied spirit as of old should
still be lording it here and CIV
ing itself airs Come, Wolf"
I repeat. Those are not our
sort. Come, let's go to our
pals. It's better there, even if
they do belch and eat with
their hands. Gomez"
Dog and Man
We trot along. the dog and I;
we run as hard as we can,
faster and faster, painting, bark
ing; we run like mad, with shin
ing eyeS-To the devil with
them all!-But we live, eh,
Wolf? We live!
Ludwig Breyer, Albert TroSske
and I are on our way to school.
Lessons are to begin again.
We were students at the
Teachers College when the war
came, but no special examina-
ton was granted to us. The
men of the grammar school
who went Jared much better.
Most of them were able to take
a special examination, either
before they enlisted or when
they came home on leave. The
remainder, who did neither the
one nor the other, have now to
start their schooling again like
the rest Of us. Karl Broger is
one of these.
We pass by the cathedral.
The green sheets of copper that
once covered the Spire have
been taken away and replaced
by strips of gray felt. They
look mildewed and shabby, so
that the church has almost
the air of a factory. The sheets
OF copper were melted down to
make shells.
In a winding alley to the
west Of the cathedral stands
the two-Storied teachers college.
Almost opposite is the grammar
school: behind it the river and
the embankment with the lime
trees. Before we enlisted, these
buildings made up our world.
After that. it was the trenches.
Now we are here again. But
this is no longer our world;
the trenches ousted it.
Ito Be Continued
IGnnn.riahA