Читать книгу Officer Factory - Hans Hellmut Kirst - Страница 7

“Gentlemen," said Major Frey to the assembled officers, “I have to inform you that the General intends to work out a tactical exercise at the conclusion of dinner this evening."

“All alone?" asked Captain Feders immediately, with an amiable grin.

The Major amended his statement with certain sharpness. “The General with the rest of his officers!"

Frey didn't like being interrupted by subordinates, particularly when they put him right. This fellow Captain Feders sometimes behaved as if he were the only person who knew anything about soldiering. Still, one had to show him a certain indulgence. In the first place Captain Feders was unquestionably the finest tactics instructor in the school, and secondly he had a very sharp tongue. Finally there was the extremely painful matter of his wife. All in all it was better to avoid a clash with him, for Feders was a dangerous man.

Or at least Feders had a dangerous way of putting apparently disarming questions. He always wanted to know everything, including whether the person he was asking really knew anything at all.

“Has the object of the exercise been announced yet, sir?" “No," said the latter.

“Do we know how long it's likely to last?"

“No, we don't," said Major Frey crossly. With two completely innocent-sounding questions Feders had demonstrated to the rest of the officers that the Major was little more than an office boy as far as General Modersohn was concerned.

“Right, then," said Feders. “Let’s all go back to school again. One thing's certain at least: the chances of a good night's rest are just about nil. Once the General starts this exercise he won't stop until quite a number of heads have rolled. Well all I can say, gentlemen, is enjoy your dinner!"

The officers assembled in the mess ante-room looked thoroughly gloomy. There were more than forty of them in all, including the two course commanders, the company commanders, the tactics instructors, the section officers and the administrative group of planners and organizers. The General's lightning decisions seemed to hang over them like menacing storm-clouds.

Knight's Crosses were flashing all over the place. Not a chest in sight that didn't boast an Iron Cross at least. Close-combat clasps, anti-tank badges, campaign ribbons, war service and long service medals—such things were a matter of course. The German Cross in Gold was nothing out of the ordinary. And the faces above this brilliant splendor were mostly serious and grimly professional, marked by certain uneasiness, sometimes even anxiety, about the eyes, though seldom indifference. -

“Gentlemen," said Captain Feders, “I suggest we start. After all, the General always begins his meal punctually regardless of whether everyone's there or not."

“Not very funny, Captain Feders," said Major Frey, commanding officer of Number 2 Course, sternly. None of the other officers seemed to think it funny either. Even in the bright electric light their faces looked black.

The most silent group of all was that in the immediate vicinity of the dining-room door, where the victims of the evening's placement were standing. This placement was worked out in the most intricate detail before every meal by the A.D.C., in collaboration with a corporal who had been a schoolmaster in civilian life. The principle was that every officer should take his place at the commanding officer's table in strict rotation. It was an honor which no one was spared. Only occasionally did the General choose his own dining companions, and then always to the considerable disquiet of those concerned. This was exactly what had happened now.

Captain Kater felt a weakness at the knees and queasiness in his stomach, for the place on the General's left had been reserved for him. One glance at the rest of the placement made the special significance of this clear. Judge-Advocate Wirrmann was seated on the General's right, while another place was reserved for Lieutenant Krafft immediately opposite.

“Well, gentlemen," said Captain Feders, going up to the victims with a show of interest, “what’s it feel like to be on the menu this evening?"

“I’m pretty tough," said Lieutenant Krafft. “Quite a mouthful for anyone, I think."

Feders looked Captain Kater up and down with some hostility. “I must say if I were the General I'd prefer a nice streaky slice of wild boar myself."

“However, you're not the General," muttered Kater angrily. “You’re simply a tactics instructor here, and a married man, what's more."

“But what's all the fuss about, gentlemen?" pleaded Judge-Advocate Wirrmann. “Anyone would think this placement was an affair of state."

“It’s a rather special situation here," said Feders. “You must know that one glance from our General may easily be the first step on the road to a state funeral. You're up against serious competition here, Wirrmann. You merely apply the law. The General makes it."

“Not for me, he doesn't," said Wirrmann, permitting himself a slightly condescending smile.

At a signal from the mess senior sergeant the orderlies appeared with the soup, and carried it past the officers into the dining-room.

This was a sure sign that the various scouts posted along the route had spotted the General's approach. The few people who had managed to engage in conversation fell silent. The officers fell in, the junior ones automatically stepping to the rear while the more senior prepared to confront the General.

“Gentlemen, the General!" cried Major Frey. It was a superfluous announcement. The gentlemen were already standing rigidly to attention as if turned to concrete by their sense of discipline.

Major-General Modersohn approached with measured strides, accompanied by his A.D.C., to whom no one seemed to pay the slightest attention. The officers had eyes only for their General, who came to a halt exactly one pace inside the threshold and surveyed the assembled company. It was as if he were thinking of counting them and registering them individually. Only then did he bring his hand up to the peak of his cap and say: “Good evening, gentlemen."

"Good evening, sir!" the officers replied in chorus.

The General nodded, not so much acknowledging the greeting as ratifying it. For the voices had been nicely in harmony, and adequate in volume. “At ease, please," he said, and the officers complied immediately. Or at least they relaxed sufficiently to push the left foot slightly forward and to one side. But no one dared to speak.

Major-General Modersohn now took off his cap, and unbuttoned and removed his greatcoat, handing first one and then the other to an orderly standing stiffly at his side. The General utterly refused to allow himself to be helped in any mundane activity of this sort.

The officers followed their General's every movement with the keenest interest, and watched him take a sheet of paper from his cuff, unfold it and read it. It seemed almost as if he were taking in one of those telegrams which start wars. Finally the General looked up and said: “The subject for to-night's tactical exercise will be a major outbreak of fire in the barracks."

And with that, consternation really set in. This was a subject full of all sorts of hidden surprises—the more experienced officers realized that at once. If it had been a question of organizing a raiding party, maneuvering companies into position, or if necessary even bringing up whole divisions, they could have managed it. But a major outbreak of fire in barracks had no place in the training curriculum at all, nor had they ever had the slightest practical experience in this field.

“Well, I hope you've all made your wills, gentlemen?" said Feders delightedly, under his breath. "Because I'm afraid this major outbreak of fire in the barracks is going to cook quite a number of people's geese for them."

The mess sergeant appeared, a sort of head waiter with military training. Behind him two orderlies opened the swing doors leading into the dining-room, whereupon the sergeant stepped up to the General much as if he were approaching royalty. He came to a halt, thrust out his chest, laid his fingers down the seams of his trousers, and said: “I beg to inform the General that the soup is on the table!"

Modersohn nodded briefly with that touch of affability he always reserved for his lower-ranking subordinates. The forty-six officers made way for him at once and he strode through them into the dining-room. Those who had been commanded to sit at his table followed closely at his heels, while the others poured in behind them. And still no one dared to say a word.

This dining-room was not without a certain Germanic splendor, having a slightly worn lime-green carpet, and walls paneled in an imitation oak veneer appropriately decorated with a pattern of oak leaves. In the middle of the room hung a sort of brass chandelier with ceramic candles; while round the walls were portraits of so-called war leaders and statesmen of recent German history—all in imposing proportions befitting the subjects. At the upper end of the room, at least three times the size, hung a portrait of the Führer in oils.

“As usual, gentlemen, quite informal," announced Major Frey quietly. For the General always left trivial matters of organization to his immediate subordinates.

The officers dispersed, informally as usual, to their various tables, with the company commanders and a sprinkling of tactics instructors positioned close to the General. After them came the section officers, followed by the rest: three accountants, or rather quartermasters, two doctors, an engineer officer from the transport section, and a civilian specially attached.

Major Frey said: “I beg to report to the General that the officers are all present for dinner."

Major-General Modersohn nodded almost imperceptibly and sat down. His forty-six officers did the same. The General grasped his spoon. The forty-six officers did likewise. The General drove his spoon into the soup. The rest of the company followed his example.

They ate in silence at first, a silence punctuated only by occasional sucking noises. For the General neither said a word himself nor gave anyone else permission to speak. Every now and again he would throw a searching glance at his officers, noting that none of them seemed particularly to relish their food—a fact which could not be attributed solely to the thin insipidness of the potato soup. The officers were desperately trying to prepare themselves for the tactical exercise to follow—the major outbreak of fire in barracks. And the effort 'rather took their appetites away.

Only when the second course, a dish of beef with haricots verts, arrived did the General turn to Judge-Advocate Wirrmann and, speaking with a slight drawl, say: “So you wish to undertake a second case in my command even before completing the first?"

Wirrmann felt relieved at thus being asked to speak at last. He perked up at once and said: “My investigations into the causes of Lieutenant Barkow's death remain of course my chief concern, General. As for this matter of rape

“This alleged matter of rape," Lieutenant Krafft corrected him, in discreet but unmistakable tones.

The General eyed the Lieutenant shrewdly for a moment, before going on with his dinner. Clearly he wasn't going to allow anything to escape him.

The Judge-Advocate continued hurriedly: "'All right then, this alleged rape. But as far as that's concerned, I have simply wished to make my expert knowledge available—an offer which Captain Kater seemed delighted to accept but which Lieutenant Krafft seems to view with disfavor."

“Not without reason either," said Lieutenant Krafft, quite unperturbed. “For the facts are still obscure, and nothing has yet been proved."

“Excuse me, please," put in Wirrmann. “Since you're not a lawyer, you're hardly in a position to judge that.

“Maybe," said Krafft stubbornly,” but I've been put in charge of this case, and I am therefore dealing with it as I think right."

“As you think fit," corrected the General, without looking up from his plate, and concentrating wholly, it seemed, on the potato before him

This unexpected remark struck his table companions temporarily dumb. Captain Kater choked on a mouthful of beef. Wirrmann subjected the General's remark to the closest possible scrutiny, trying to decide what to make of it. Krafft was merely astonished at the sharpness of Modersohn's hearing—the General, it seemed, was alive to every nuance.

Finally Wirrmann said: " A case of this sort, General, requires expert opinion even more than the usual routine sort of affair. I therefore consider it my duty to lend Captain Kater my assistance. You see, it's quite different from some everyday offence such as refusing to obey an order, or theft from a comrade, or desertion—the most trivial details can be of decisive legal importance in a case of this kind. According to the relevant paragraph of the Ministry Code there are three fundamental requirements for rape: the complete act itself, the use of force, and the absence of consent. Take one point for example, the importance of which most laymen would overlook: the underclothes. The question here is who removed them? How much resistance was offered? Were there in fact any underclothes at all?—and if not, from what point in the proceedings?"

“Herr Wirrmann," said the General without raising his voice, but with extreme asperity, “we’re eating our dinner."

The Judge-Advocate's mouth shut tight. His lips, which were thin enough, in any case, now became no more than a slit in his face. He blushed to the roots, feeling like a schoolboy humiliated in front of the whole class, an experience which hadn't come his way since he'd been in the sixth form. The other officers were discreetly enjoying the situation.

The General calmly went on with his dinner. Lieutenant Krafft put his knife and fork together, and for the first time examined Modersohn more closely. He saw a long, angular skull, as rough as a piece of pumice stone, though the features were clear and distinct. The few lines in his face ran very deep down from his nostrils past his mouth to his chin. His eyes were a steely grey, and he had a high forehead with close-cropped white hair. Krafft was tempted to think of some noble but unpredictable Prussian stallion.

“Gentlemen, we shall now retire," said the General, getting up from his seat.

“The tactical training exercise," announced the A.D.C. fussily, “will take place in this room in fifteen minutes' time."

“Well, Judge-Advocate," asked Captain Feders amiably, "did you enjoy your dinner?"

“A little too strongly spiced for my taste," said Wirrmann, laughing as if he had a sense of humor. But his laugh sounded anything but genuine, for he was a man who took himself desperately seriously.

Most of the officers had withdrawn to the lobby to get out of the General's field of fire, and they now took advantage of the break to smoke a quick cigarette. At the same time they tried to ferret out information about the projected exercise, chiefly quizzing Captain Feders.

“Gentlemen," said Feders defensively, " I'm utterly in the dark about this myself. How should I know what's meant to happen if a major fire breaks out in the barracks? Until I've had further details of the scheme, I shan't be able to think of how to cope with it. I may be tactics instructor in a training school, but I'm not exactly a clairvoyant yet."

The officers' restlessness increased and they enveloped themselves in thicker and thicker clouds of smoke. Through the open doorway of the dining-room they could see the orderlies transforming the place into a sort of classroom with a blackboard at the rear and two map-stands beside it, and the General's table in front, like a headmaster's desk. The officers' tables and chairs were arranged like school benches.

“Well anyway," said Judge-Advocate Wirrmann, “I’m glad to be spared this."

“And I expect you'd be gladder still," said Feders, “if you had permission to put these three strapping girls under your microscope."

“Captain Feders," Wirrman rebuked him, “as far as I'm concerned this is a purely professional matter and the fact that it happens to involve three females of doubtful repute is of complete indifference to me."

“I don't quite see how you can separate the one side of it from the other."

“I am a lawyer, Captain, after all!"

“Exactly!" said Feders gaily. “If you were a doctor, or a psychiatrist, or even a gynecologist, I'd say fine, this is his job, this is the sort of thing he's used to. But when a lawyer whose only experience so far is with old sweats comes along and starts peering under three young girls' skirts—then my dear sir, I can hardly help laughing up my sleeve."

“You’re letting your imagination run away with you," replied Wirrmann. He would have liked to add that the General was too. But he held his tongue. He bore these insults with dignity, though he wasn't going to forget them. He knew this type of officer inside out. Consciously or unconsciously, a man like Modersohn encouraged all sorts of subversive ideas. On principle he, Wirrmann, had to regard such people with the utmost suspicion. “You lack confidence in the responsible machinery of the State," he said before he left.

As he watched him go Captain Feders said: “You have to hand it to him—he's no fool. And that could mean trouble."

“Officers are requested to take their places for the exercise," cried the A.D.C.

The officers didn't wait to be told a second time. They quickly stubbed out their cigarettes, brought their conversations to a close, and went into the dining-room, which had been turned into a classroom for the officer elite. They took their places and eyed the General expectantly.

Major-General Modersohn sat at his table working like a headmaster at his desk, quite undisturbed by the entrance of the officers. He was looking through the documents which the A.D.C. had collected for him, and there was a writing-pad beside him on which he was making notes.

The A.D.C. now made the further announcement that Major Frey, commanding officer of Number 2 Course, would be in charge of the exercise.

This marked down the first victim of the evening. Others would follow later. For a tactical exercise of this sort had a dual purpose: first, to work out in theory some situation that might arise in practice, but secondly to permit special tasks to be allotted to as many of those present as possible. Once this was done the business of fighting a major fire could be worked out step by step. Each participant had to describe both concisely and comprehensively exactly what he would do in the emergency, or alternatively cause to be done, if for instance he had charge of a party detailed to prevent the fire from spreading, or one of the brigades themselves—or simply of a supply store. And thus it would go on throughout the entire night, if Modersohn felt like it.

Captain Feders, that experienced tactics instructor, found his companions waiting on his every word. “The man who'll really catch it is the one who has to play duty officer," he told them.

“Duty officer," read the A.D.C. from the pad on which the General had been making his notes, “Lieutenant Krafft."

Krafft only just managed to suppress an oath. He was an old enough hand to realize that he'd got the most thankless task of the whole exercise. The General had obviously had his eye on him, and the thought worried Krafft.

“May I have a copy of the guard regulations?" he asked.

The General nodded, and the A.D.C. had the guard regulations handed to Lieutenant Krafft. The officers regarded with interest the man who seemed likely to be the scapegoat of the evening—though without sentimentality, for someone had to be the victim and this time it just happened to be this fellow Krafft. One could hardly hope to interrupt a general's dinnertime conversation and get away with it.

The A.D.C. had now finished reading out the list of those participating in the exercise, and no one, it seemed, had been forgotten. Everyone had been allotted a role of one sort or another or at least the supervision of some role. The officers found themselves sweating with anxiety. The traps were set, but who, apart from Krafft, would fall into them?

The A.D.C. announced the opening situation: “A major fire is presumed to have broken out in the region of Number Four Company. Origin unknown. Scale so far unknown. Day: Sunday. Time: zero one thirty-eight hours. The exercise begins."

Captain Feders grinned happily, for he had spotted the pitfalls at once. “Number Four Company," he whispered to his companions,” is almost bang in the middle of the barracks—what a marvelous chance for a fire to spread! What's more we're caught in the sacred silence of a Sunday morning with almost everyone still away on late pass. What possibilities! There'll be some smoke here all right, I can sniff it already."

“If you please, Major Frey," said the A.D.C. at a glance from Major-General Modersohn, " the exercise has begun."

“Alarm!" cried Major Frey in slightly strained tones, and they were away. All Frey had to do now was to find someone to carry the game on. “Number Four Company area is on fire, then. What is Number Four Company going to do?"

“I pass on the alarm," said the officer in charge of the company. “I, in my turn, alarm the duty officer."

All eyes now turned towards Lieutenant Krafft, who leant back in his chair. He was determined not to let himself be stampeded. He wasn't going to be the lamb led to the slaughter by sheer weight of numbers. “Are these guard regulations to be regarded as authoritative?" he asked.

“Of course," said Major Frey at once. “They’re the official regulations."

“Does that mean that I have to obey these regulations?" continued Krafft stubbornly.

“But of course, man!" cried Frey with some sharpness. He felt most indignant. “Regulations are there to be obeyed. Every order has the authority of law, and a written order is the law itself."

Krafft made it clear from his expression that he regarded the Major's pronouncements as the last word in stupidity. The officers sensed a sensational development. With a mixture of hope and alarm they looked from Krafft to Major Frey and from the latter to Major-General Modersohn. The General observed placidly: " The guard regulations are to be regarded as authoritative, Lieutenant Krafft."

“Then, general, this exercise has no foundation in reality at all," said the Lieutenant. To those present it seemed little short of an attempt at suicide. “Because these guard regulations just don't make sense." The heavy silence which now fell across the room seemed to be waiting for a flash of lightning to shatter it. Even the happy grin on Captain Feders's face partially froze. Then Captain Kater gave an indignant snort. The evening had reached another climax.

With remarkable softness the General said: “Would you explain that a little further, please, Lieutenant Krafft?"

Krafft nodded rather wearily. He had shown the courage of a lion so far, but it now threatened to desert him as suddenly as it had come. He began to have a panicky feeling that he had gone too far.

“Well?" asked the General with devastating politeness. “I’m listening."

“General," said Lieutenant Krafft finally,” these guard regulations are not only imprecise in certain respects but on a number of vital points they actually contradict each other. For example the order in which the fire hydrants are to be used is given as numbers one, two, three, and four, but this is senseless, considering the actual position of these hydrants. If the duty officer were to go by these regulations, he'd have to waste an enormous amount of valuable time rushing backwards and forwards all over the place. Because there's only one possible sequence for the effective use of the fire hydrants, which is: four, one, three, two."

“Anything else, Lieutenant Krafft?" asked the General, still very softly. Krafft brought forward four further points to demonstrate the defects of the guard regulations: inadequate alarm system, incorrect inventory of fire extinguishers, wrongly stored explosives, and a shortage of picks, spades and axes in the guardroom equipment. “If the duty officer were in fact to go by these guard regulations the entire barracks would be burned down before there was a chance of getting a single hose into play."

“Let me see, please," said the General.

The guard regulations were handed to Modersohn, who turned over the pages and skimmed through the relevant sections. His face remained a mask, as imperturbable and detached as at dinner. All eyes were turned towards him and the General accepted this as if exposed simply to the rays of the sun.

Then he raised his head, looked at Krafft and asked: “When did the defects in these guard regulations first strike you, Lieutenant Krafft?"

“Three days ago, sir," said Krafft. “When I was duty officer."

“In that case," said Major-General Modersohn, “I should have known about this at least two days ago. You neglected to put in the necessary report. You will report to me at ten o'clock tomorrow morning."

“Very good, General!"

“In point of fact," said the General, “these guard regulations are utter nonsense. It's impossible to work with them. A new edition will be ready in a few days, until which time the exercise is postponed. Good evening."