The Washington times., 1931-10-20
NsTALLMENT 8

During the night our carriage
has its first casualties. The
train passed into a low tunnel
and some Of the chaps on the
roof were crushed and swept
clean off. Though the others
had seen it they had no means
up there of stopping the train.
The man in the lavatory win
dow too fell asleep and dropped
out.
Other carriages also suffered
similar casualties. So now the
roofs are rigged up with wooden
grips and ropes, and bayonetS
rammed into the woodwork. And
sentries are posted to give warn
ing of danger.
We sleep and sleep; standing,
lying, sitting, squatting in every
possible attitude on packs and
on bundles, we sleep. The train
rattles on. Houses, trees, gar
dens, people waving. Process
ions, red flags, guards posted
on the railway, shouting, cries,
special editions, revolution. But
we will sleep first; the rest can
wait till later. Now for the first
time one begins to feel how tired
one has become in all these
years.
The Night Trip
Evening again. There is one
miserable lamp burning. The
train moves slowly and stops OIL
ten because Of engine trouble.
Our packs joggle. Pipes are
glowing: the dog is asleep on my
knees. Adolf Bethke leans across
to me and strokes the dogs
head. well, Ernst" he says
after a while, we're going 10
separate at last"
I nod. It is strange. but l
can hardly picture life now
without Adolf, without his
watchful eye and his ulet
voice, It was he that educated
Albert and me when we rst
came out to the front as raw
recruits; but for him I doubt
If / should still be here.
1--WE must meet sometimes,
Adolf" I say. 1--WE must meet
often" -
Outside the evening draws
on. Woods lie along the SKY
line like black cows, fields
show family in the dim light
that shines from the carriage
windows. It now wants but
two hours for home. Bethke IS
getting his baggage ready. He
lives in a village a few stations
this side Of the town and SO
has to get out sooner.
The train stops. Adolf shakes
hands with US all. He tumbleS
out onto the little siding and
looks about him with a sweep
ing glance that drinks in the
whole landscape IN a second, as
o parched field the rain. Then
he turns to us again. But he
hears nothing any more. Lud-
wig Breyer is standing at the
window, indifferent to his pain.
''Trot along, Adolf" he says,
"your wife will be waiting,
Bethke looks up at us and
shakes his head. mo such
hurry as all that, Ludwig" 1t
is evident with what power
home is drawing him away; but
Adolf is Adolf-he continues to
stand there beside us until tie
train leaves. Then he turns
swiftly about and goes off III
long strides.
A Promise Made
"We'll be coming to see you
Soon!" call after him hastily.
We watch him go out across
the fields. For a long time he
continues to wave. Then smoke
from the engine drifts between.
In the distance gleam a few
red lights.
The train makes a big sweep
ing curve. Adolf has now be-
come very small, a mere point
q tiny little man, quite alone
on the wide, dark plain, above
which, vast and electrically
bright, ringing the horizon in
sulphur yellow, towers the night
sky. I do not know Why-it
has nothing to do with Adolpf
but the sight fascinates me:
A solitary man going out over
the wide stretch of fields
against the mighty sky, in the
evening and alone.
Then the trees close up in
massive darkness and soon
nothing is left but swift mo-
tion, and woods and the sky.
It grows noisy in the COM
partment. Here inside are cor
ners, edges. odorS, warmth,
space and boundaries: here are
brown, weathered faces and
eyes with bright flecks in
them: there is smell of earth.
sweat. blood, uniforms-but out
side the world is rushing OBJ,
Scurely past to the steady
stamping of the train: we are
leaving it behind us, ever
farther and farther. all that
world of trenches and shell
holes, Of darkness and terror:
now a mere whirlwind seen
through the window-it con.
Germs US no more.
Somebody starts singing.
Others join in. Soon everyone
is singing, the whole compart-
ment, the next compartment.
the entire carriage. the whole
train. We sing ever more
Justify, with more and more
power; our brovs are flushed,
the veins swell out; we sing
every soldiers song that we