Officer Factory

“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."

5. THE NIGHT OF THE FUNERAL

The barracks which housed the training school lay on a long ranging hill above the River Main, which the ordnance survey maps marked as Hill 201. To some people this point was the center of the world. Down below in the flat trough of a valley lay the little town of Wildlingen, which twisted away in an endless series of narrow little streets like intestines. Everything was bathed in pale blue moonlight. A blanket of snow lay on the ground. The night was gripped by a leaden sleep.

The war was a long way off, so far off that it had left Wildlingen-am-Main untouched. Yet hidden away here in this out-of-the-way place the future seeds of professional destruction were now being manufactured. For the time being, however, the vast machine of the training school had come to a standstill. Both the engineers and their tools were resting. For though the war itself knew no sleep, the warrior could not do without it, and for more than a few this sleep was only a prelude to Death.

But Death on the whole kept away from training schools. Why should he bother to disturb a process which served him well enough in the end? Here he was sparing with his victims. He merely put in an appearance now and again in a purely routine sort of way as if to remind people that he was in fact everywhere. The ages of those who lay in the cemetery at Wildlingen-am-Main half-way between the town and the barracks were high for the most part, and a certain Lieutenant Barkow of twenty-two struck an almost jarring note, though even this error of taste was soon to be rectified.

In any case the moon was quite indifferent to where it shed its light. It looked down on all things equally as it had done since the beginning of time, on lovers and corpses, on the old town and the new factories of war. Human beings might write poetry to it, stare at it or revile it as they pleased. It waxed and waned, disappeared and rose again. The sentry on guard at the barracks gates was no more than a speck of dust, the old town a writhing worm, the training school itself just a hollow nut-shell.

But within the training school a thousand people were breathing away. A thousand people slept, a thousand digestions were at work, a thousand bloodstreams performed their sluggish tasks. Millions and millions of pores filtered the air like the cleansing units of so many gas-masks.

No glimmer of light made its way through the blacked out panes. Behind the closed windows the sickly smell of warm bodies mingled with the odor of blankets, mattresses and floor-boards, while this and the various other smells of the night merged into a heavy, suffocating atmosphere which slowly enveloped the sleepers in the small, overcrowded rooms.

Not everyone, however, was permitted sleep, or even sought it. For some it was forbidden.

The cadet on guard at the gate, for instance, felt cold and tired and bored, but beyond that felt nothing. "To helm with the whole rotten business!" he muttered to himself

He didn't quite know what he meant by this. He only knew that he had to become an officer, though he had long ago ceased to bother about why.

He was getting through his course, in which sentry-duty was laid down as part of the curriculum. And that was that.

“Aren’t you tired?" Elfrida Rademacher asked the girl sitting on her bed. “When I was your age I'd have been asleep for hours by now."

“But you're only a few years older than me," said the girl. “And the later it is the more wide awake you seem to become."

Elfrida Rademacher looked into the mirror and slowly combed her hair, watching the girl behind her as she did so.

This girl had only been in the barracks a few days, a supplementary posting for number one kitchen, detailed for elementary duties during the hours of daylight only. For this girl, whose name was Irene Jablonski, was little more than sixteen years old and her age was of course taken into account.

“Are you going out now?" she asked.

“I still have something to do," said Elfrida, trying to sound non-committal.

“I can imagine what that is," said the girl.

“You should try not to let your imagination run away with you," said Elfrida sharply. “Then you'll sleep better."

Irene Jablonski made a face and threw herself down on her bed. She felt grown-up now and wanted to be treated accordingly. Then she suddenly felt frightened again. It was true that she had been sleeping worse and worse lately.

Elfrida pretended not to notice the girl, who was one of the five with whom she shared this room. A pretty, slim, fragile little creature, with large eyes and a well-developed bosom which proclaimed her maturity though she still had the face of a child.

“Can’t I come out with you in the evening sometimes?" the girl asked.

“No," said Elfrida firmly.

“If you won't take me with you I'll go out with the others." She meant the other four girls they shared the room with, two of whom were employed on communications duties, one in the record office, and the other in the sick bay. They were all experienced, mature girls, carefree to the point of indifference, which was hardly surprising after two or three years in barracks. They were already asleep by now, though only two in their own beds.

“I can do anything you can," said Irene sulkily.

“No you can't, not for a long time," said Elfrida. “You’re much too young."

She glanced round the room, which contained the usual sort of barrack-room furniture, though not of the lowest type, more N.C.O.s' standard than other-ranks'. There were even bedside tables, which were normally the prerogative of officers. Yet everything was standardized, even though the pattern of uniformity was slightly modified by rugs, paper flowers and ornaments, which gave the room an unmistakable atmosphere of femininity and showed that they hadn't yet given up altogether.

“Listen, now," said Elfrida to Irene Jablonski. “It might be a good thing if you forgot all about the thing that seems to be most on your mind. You're too young for it and too vulnerable. I was just like you once. And I did just all the things you long to do in your heart of hearts. Well, it wasn't worth it, see? It's pointless."

“But you go on doing it, don't you?"

“Yes," said Elfrida frankly. “Because I still hope that it may prove worth it in the end."

“But won't one always go on thinking that?"

Elfrida nodded. She turned away, and thought to herself: without hope one's done for—where would one be without it? And softly she said to herself, “He’s different from the others, I think."

Captain Ratshelm allowed himself no rest, and interpreted this as his sense of duty.

He had made all his preparations for the following day's work, had written a long letter to his mother, and had then sat listening thoughtfully to the final sounds of the day which invariably preceded the sounding of lock-up--the scampering of bare feet in the corridor, the water running in the washroom and the latrine, a brief exchange of conversation, a joke or two, the hearty laughter of young men, all followed by the footsteps of the duty officer passing through the billets, brisk footsteps marked by a faint clinking sound as an iron-studded heel struck a flagstone. A few sharp orders, and then a sort of forced and artificial stillness.

The rule was that any cadet who from then on (22.00 hours) wanted to sleep was to be left undisturbed. Undisturbed and this was an important qualification, by his companions. For of course visits from superior officers, practice alarms or special searches might disturb him at any hour of the night. Anyone who wished to work, though, could do so up to 24.00 hours, the one condition being that he wasn't to make a noise under any circumstances.

This was Ratshelm's great moment.

For the Captain had established it for himself as a principle that the cadets should know just how solicitous he was for their welfare. He applied this principle by a carefully formulated plan known only to himself, which he put into action first thing in the morning immediately after reveille, when he supervised the morning wash and early games, and again now, late in the evening.

Ratshelm strode briskly from his room, down the corridor and out through the main door of the building. He continued across the parade ground and the main thoroughfare of the camp, round an ammunition dump and up to a set of wooden barracks, where H Section enjoyed temporary accommodation. The barracks were gradually becoming too small for their purpose, and additional huts had therefore had to be built to house the most junior of the officer cadets. Those in H Section were naturally the first to suffer, though in Rats-helm's eyes there was nothing wrong with throwing them all together like this. His one cause for regret was that they were some distance away, though this also meant that more checks were required.

Ratshelm entered the narrow corridor of the barrack block and looked eagerly about him. He was disappointed by what he saw or rather failed to see. The rooms were fitted with glass windows above the doors, but in none of these was there a light. It seemed that the cadets were already asleep. This indicated that none of them was making a point of working late, though such a thing was expressly permitted by the regulations. Ratshelm shone his torch along the numbers on the doors, until he came to number 7.