The Washington times., 1931-10-28
CHAPTER IS

AAA9 S>~~~s
is laundering the march from
'"The Merry Widow" The taps
along the counter sparkle. An
eddy of laughter is swirling
about the bar sink where two
girls are rinsing the froth from
the empty glasses. A swarm
of men stand clustered around
them. They are exchanging
Jokes. Water slops over, mir
roring the faces. tattered and
distorted. An artillery man or
ders a round of Schnapp.
Good prewar stuff, this, er,
Lina?" he roars jovially.
We elbow our way in. 80!
There he isl" says Willy.
With sleeves rolled up, shirt
unbuttoned, sweating, with
moist, red neck, behind the
counter stands the host, draw
ing off the beer. that streams
down brown and golden from
under his fat hands into the
glasses. Now he looks up. A
broad grin spreads over his
face. "Hullo! You here! What's
1t to be, light or dark?"
Light. Herr Sergeant Ma
jor," replies Tjaden impudently.
He counts us with his eyes.
HCa~,n~a roNyc TxYi11yy
"Seven," repeats Seelig, with
a glance at Ferdinand, "six-
and Kosole, by Jove!'
HE DEMANDS RUM
Ferdinand pushes up to the
counter. He leans with both
hands against the edge Of it.
''Say. seelig, have you got any
rum?"
Seelig fuses about behind his
row of nickle pump handles.
Rum? Why, yes, of course,
I've got rum"
Kosole a looks up at him.
"You're rather partial to it, #
I remember?"
seelig is filling a. row Of cog
nae glasses. "Yes, I do rather
like it, as a matter Of fact"
Happen to remember the
last time you got tight on it?"
mo, can't say I do"
''But I dol" shouts Kosole
standing at the counter like a
bull glaring over a hedge. ever
hear the name Schroder?"
"Schroder?-Its a. very COM
mon name, Schroeder, says
Seelig casually.
That is too much for Kosole.
He gets ready to spring. But
Willy seizes him and pushes
him down into a chair. Drink
first!-Seven light" he repeats
over the bar.
Kosole is silent. We sit down
at a table. Seelig brings us the
pints himself. Good health"
says he.
GOOD health!" answers Tia
den and we drink. He leans back.
There, now, didn't I tell you?"
Ferdinand's eyes follow Seelig
as he goes back behind the
counter. Man." he mutters
fiercely, "and to think how that
swob stank of rum the night be
buried Schroeder"
He breaks off.
"Now don't come unStuck," /"
says Tjaden gently.
Then as though KoSole's words
had suddenly plucked aside a
curtain that until now had but
lightly swayed and shifted, a
grey, ghostly deSolation begins
to unfold there in the barron.
The windows disappear, shadows
rise up through the floor boards
and memory hovers IN the
smoke-laden air.
No Love Lost
There had never been any love
lost between Kosole and Seelig,
but it was not until August,
1918, that they became deadly
enemies. We were holding a
stretch of battered trench at the
time. just in rear of the front
line, and had to work all the
night, digging a common grave.
We were unable to make it very
deep, because the water in the
ground soon began to Seep IN.
At the end we were working
knee-deep in mud.
Bethke. WeSsling and KoSole
were kept busy snoring up the
sides. The rest of us gathered
the corpses that lay about in
the area ahead of us and put
them aside in a long row till
the grave should be ready. Al
bert Trosske, our section cor
poral, removed any identity
discs or paybookS that they still
had on them.
A few of the dead had al
ready black faces. Some OF
them were soaked and Sodden
with water like Sponges. One
we found lying flat, spread
eagled on the ground. Only
when we took him up did we
see that there was practically
nothing left Of him but the
rags of his uniform, he was so
pulped. His identity disc was
gone, too. We only recognized
him finally by a patch in his
trousers. Lance Corporal Gla-
ser it was. He was light to
carry, for almost half Of him
was missing.
| Such stray arms. legs and SO