The Washington times., 1931-10-17
CHAPTER 8

= CHAP EH
LiStleSsly we trudge onward.
We had pictured our entry into
our own country after the long
years out there rather differ
emily from this. We imagined
that people would be waiting
for US, expecting us; now we see
- that already everyone is taken
up with his own affairs. Life
has moved on, is still moving
on; it is leaving us behind al
most as If we were superfluous
already. This village, of course,
is not Germany; all the same,
the disappointment hurts and a
shadow passes over us and a
queer foreboding.
Carts rattle past. drivers
shout, men look up as they pass,
then fall again to their own
thoughts and cares. The hour
is pealing from the church
tower; the damp wind shifts us
as it goes by. Only an old wo-
man with long bonnet strings
Is running indefatigably along
the column and in a tremulouS
voice is asking for a certain
Erhard Schmidt.
We are billeted in a large
clubhouse. Though we have
marched q long way no one
wants to rest. We go off to the
inn.
. Life in Plenty
Here is life in plenty and a
turbid wine of this years vint-
age. It tastes wonderful and it
works powerfully in the legs, so
we are the more content to sit.
Clouds of tobacco smoke drift
through the low room; the wine
smells of the earth and of sum.
mer; we fetch out our tins OF
preserved meat, carve off great
slices and lay them on thick
slabs of buttered bread. Stick
our knives upright beside us IN
the big wooden table and eat.
The oil lamp beams down upon
us all like a mother.
Night makes the world beau
tiful. Not in front line trenches,
of course, but in peace. This
afternoon we marched in here
detected; now we begin to re-
viye. The little band playing
in the corner soon gets rein
forcements from our fellows.
we can supply not merely
pianists and virtuosos with the
mouth organ-there is even a
Barvarian with a either. Willy
Homeyer will not be out OF it.
He has rugged himself up a
sort of devils fiddle and with
the aid Of a couple Of enor.
NOUS pot lids is treating us
to the combined glory and
clash Of cymbals, kettledrums
and rattles.
But the unusual thing, that
goes to our heads even more
than the wine, is the girls.
They are quite other than they
seemed this afternoon, they
smile and are complaisant. Or
are these different ones, per-
haps? 1t is so long now since
we have seen any girls.
AT first we are both eager
and shy at the same time;
we are not quite sure of our
selves: we seem to have for
gotten how to get along with
them. At last Ferdinand Ko-
sole waltzes off with one, a
husky wench. Now all the
others are following his lead.
The heavy, sweet wine sings
pleasantly in the head, the
girls are whirling by and the
music plays. We are sitting
in a group in one corner gath
cred about Adolf Bethke. We'll,
boys" says he, tomorrow or
next day we'll be home again.
Yes-rny wife-10 months it is
now"
The Blonde Siren
I lean across the table and
speak to Valentin Laher, who
Is looking the girls over coolly,
with a superior air. There is
q blonde sitting beside him, but
he is paying her little atten-
ton. AS lean forward some
thing in my tunic pocket
presses against the edge of the
table. feel to find out what
1t is. Wessling's watch.
Jupp has hooked the fatteSt
dame. He is dancing like a
question mark. His paw lies
flat upon her spacious back.
She is smiling up into his face,
and he is growing merrier
every minute. Finally he
waltzes out through the door
into the yard and vanishes.
A few minutes later go out.
A cool wind, very good after
the smoke inside there. Dark
roofs and gables. boughs over
hanging, stiffness. and peace.
Albert comes and stands be-
side me. The moon is shin
ing.
Man, but it's good, eh,
Ernst?" says Albert.
I nod. We gaze a while into
the moon.
ITO think the show is over,
Albert, eh?"
We take a turn around the
house and discover Willy Ho-
meyer. He has lit a great fire
Of weeds in a field and thrown
on a few handfuls of stolen po-
tatoes. Now there he sits alone
before 1t, peacefully dreaming,
waiting till the potatoes are