|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 52
"I'm no soldier," he replied.
"Why weren't you called? You're of the right age."
"A little weakness of the heart. I cannot endure the great strain, but I
can drive the cattle."
"Oh, well, if that is so, you serve us better by sticking to your trade.
Lieutenant Schmidt, give him food and drink, and then I'll prepare for
him a pass through the lines that will take him part of the way to Metz.
He'll have to get other passes as he goes along."
John saluted and thanked Colonel Stratz, and then he and Lieutenant
Schmidt approached one of the great German kitchen automobiles. It was
easy to play the r�le of a simple and honest peasant, and while he drank
good beer and ate good cheese and sausage, he and Lieutenant Schmidt
became quite friendly.
Schmidt asked him many questions. He wanted to know if he had been near
the French lines, and John laughingly replied that he had been
altogether too near. Three rifle bullets fired from some hidden point
had whizzed very close to him, and he had run for his life.
"I shall take care never to get lost again," he said, "and I intend to
keep well behind our army. The battle line is not the place for Jean
Castel. Why spoil a first-class herder to make a second-class soldier?"
He winked cunningly at Schmidt, who laughed.
"You're no great hero," said the German, "but if a man wants to take
care of his skin can he be blamed for doing so? Still, you're not so
safe here."
"How's that?" asked John in assumed alarm.
"Now and then the French send shells over that mountain in front of us
and when one is fired it's bound to hit somewhere. We haven't had any at
this point yet, but our time is sure to come sooner or later."
"Then I think I'll be going," said John, willing to maintain his new
reputation as a timid man.
Schmidt laughed again.
"Oh, no, not yet," he said. "Your passport isn't ready, and without it
you can't move. Have another glass of this beer. It was made in Munich,
and puts heart into a man."
John drank. It was really fine beer, and the food was excellent, warm
and well cooked. He had not realized before how hungry and thirsty he
was. It was a hunger and thirst that the cold meat and bread in his
knapsack and snow water would not have assuaged. Many Germans also were
refreshing themselves. He had noticed that in both armies the troops
were always well fed. Distances were short, and an abundance of railways
brought vast quantities of supplies from fertile regions.
While he was still eating he heard a shriek and a roar and a huge shell
burst two or three hundred yards away. Much earth was torn up, four men
were wounded slightly and an empty ambulance was overturned, but the
regular life of the German army went on undisturbed.
"I told you that we had French messengers now and then," said Lieutenant
Schmidt, holding a glass of beer in his right hand and a sausage in his
left, "but that message was delivered nearer to us than any other in
three days. I don't think they'll fire again for a half-hour, and the
chances are a hundred to one that it will fall much further away. So why
be disturbed?"
Lieutenant Schmidt was beginning to feel happy. He had a sentimental
German soul, and all the beer he wanted brought all his benevolence to
the surface.
"I like you, Castel," he said. "Your blood is French, of course, or it
was once, but you of Lorraine have had all the benefits of German
culture and training. A German you were born, a German you have
remained, and a German you will be all your life. The time is coming
when we will extend the blessings of our German culture to all of
France, and then to England, and then maybe to the whole world."
Lieutenant Schmidt had drunk a great deal of beer, and even beer when
taken in large quantities may be heady. His tongue was loose and long.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|