And he explained how things were managed in his trade, at the factory.

If one of the workmen was unfairly treated, or if the pay was considered too small, then they had a thorough good strike. They took care to choose the best possible time for it, when the manufacturers had the most pressing work to do. The trade-union, to which of course they all had to belong, kept blacklegs at a distance, and they went on doggedly righting until new terms had been won. Certainly the workmen did not invariably carry all their demands; but a strike seldom ended without their gaining some solid advantage. Yes, the workers had only to show the world that they were a power; that they were not going to be trampled on for ever; that they intended henceforth to have their share of the profits which they had hitherto been putting into the pockets of the rich, although earned by their own toil and sweat.

Or Weise would reckon how much was spent in one day's gun-practice.

Each shot cost about fifteen marks; and the sixth battery alone had fired about a hundred and twenty shots that morning. There were six batteries in each regiment, four regiments in each army-corps, and twenty-three army-corps in the whole of Germany.

"Any-one who likes can reckon it up," said Weise. "In any case the money would be enough to give every poor devil in the whole world one happy day!"

He pulled out a sheet of paper and read from it the sum that Germany spent annually on her army. It made the men open their eyes pretty wide. An incredible sum, truly, of which they could form no clear idea at all.

Sometimes one of them would say! "But look here, old man; suppose there was war, and we had no soldiers?"

"War! war!" said Weise. "What is war, pray? Who is it that makes war?

Do you want war? Do you want to have to go and stand up like those targets out there and be hit on the skull or in the belly by the shrapnel?"

"Not I."

"Perhaps you would, Findeisen?"

"I? G.o.d d.a.m.n me--no!"

"Or you, Truchsess?"

The brewer thought a moment, and answered:

"No, certainly not. I wish for peace. But the French might want to fight us, or the Russians."

"Ha, ha!" laughed Weise. "Well, now, think about it a moment. Over there in France are sitting together just such poor simple fellows as we are here. Ask them if they want to let themselves be shot dead in a moment without rhyme or reason? Do you expect them to say yes?"

"No, of course not. But--but--then who is it who really does want war?"

Weise did not speak for a moment, but laughed softly. Then he answered, shrugging his shoulders: "Ah, that I don't know. Probably n.o.body. So much only is clear: _we_ don't want it."

During these conversations, Wolf, the lean gunner of the "old gang,"

was always careful to hold aloof. He listened to the talk, but never joined in it. When his comrades had gone in to bed, he would stay on, gazing out into the beautiful night of the woods. No one longed as fervently as he did for the end of the term of service. He, who had been wont to grudge every day on which he had done nothing to further the cause of revolution and social-democracy, was forbidden for two long years to allow a word to pa.s.s his lips about what lay nearest his heart! Yet he was all the more cautious not to commit any indiscretions that might perhaps entail a prolongation of the hateful restraint.

Hitherto he had had but a vague comprehension of the idea of freedom; now he felt that he grasped it. Freedom! It meant the time after his discharge--the time when he would no longer wear the soldier's uniform!

When, during these weeks, Wolf had been an auditor of Weise's covertly inflammatory speeches, he had longed each time to step forward and speak out too. He knew that his own words would have flowed far more convincingly and more pa.s.sionately than Weise's. But he knew also that in such case he would only have the greater difficulty in restraining himself afterwards; so he kept silence.

However, the end was attained without his help. It was quite remarkable how after such conversations these peasant lads and the others, who up to now had heard nothing of socialism and labour movements, rapidly a.s.similated the new and palatable wisdom, although no word of direct propaganda had been spoken. And if this result was so marked in their own corps, where the work was not very irksome or heavy, what must it not be among the infantry over yonder, where any small spark of liking for the soldier's life must be quenched by the deadly monotony of eternal parade-drill!

Not long before, a man had suddenly gone mad in the middle of drill.

What was responsible for this calamity? The sun, over-exertion, perhaps an inherited tendency that would in any case sooner or later have resulted in such a catastrophe? No one could say with any certainty.

But the men who had seen and heard how the poor fellow writhed and shrieked, gripped their rifles tightly, and the same thought could plainly be read in the eyes of them all.

No wonder that the period of military service was extremely favourable to the spread of social-democracy! Such sensational object-lessons were not necessary; the circ.u.mstances of every-day life all pointed towards socialism.

Wolf understood the part that Weise played in the battery. It was always the same. Each batch of recruits was a mixture of men from towns and men from the country. The city-bred, even if fewer in number, immediately established an ascendancy over the country yokels. They were quicker-witted, and their town bringing-up had developed their intelligence more. And just because of this they adapted themselves more easily to the requirements of military service, so that they often made better soldiers than the country recruits with their slower comprehension. Most of them were entirely unaware that they were socialistic agitators; they quite unconsciously imparted to their fellow-soldiers ideas that to them appeared self-evident, but that for the others meant an upheaval of their whole way of thinking.

What was the use of searching every hole and corner of the barracks at regular intervals for socialistic literature? They could confiscate red rosettes and pamphlets; but how could they control transient, intangible thoughts?

On Sundays the camp was as quiet as it was full of life on week-days. The boundary-lines beyond which the men were not allowed to pa.s.s without leave, were drawn round a considerable area. Within it were three large villages; and on Sundays their taverns were thronged by soldiers quartered in the camp. The enterprising innkeepers had made ample provision for such crowds of visitors. They had erected wooden platforms in the open air where dancing went on without intermission, regimental bands supplying the music; and the amount of beer consumed in one Sunday was greater than that drunk by the entire village the whole winter through. Of course there were strong patrols set to keep order at the dancing-platforms and licensed houses. As there were too few partners for the soldiers quarrels were of constant occurrence, and were seldom amicably settled; a brawl was the usual result, and at times a regular fight.

It was the custom in these villages to hire maidservants only by the month, as sufficient work could hardly be found for them during the winter; and there were also other members of the female s.e.x--not servants, but ladies who had taken up their summer quarters here. They were the cause of much perplexity to the officers in command of the troops. The soldiers would stand in queues at the doors of these summer residences, like people at a baker's shop in time of famine; and then if any of them were drunk and got a little impatient there was sure to be a row. Censorious tongues pa.s.sed severe comments on such proceedings. The commanding officers were most anxious to rectify the evil; but they could hardly post sentries at those particular houses, and finally they got over the difficulty by bringing a little moral pressure to bear upon the local authorities. These worthy civilians achieved the desired end by the simple means of administrative expulsions.

As the two comrades were getting ready to go out, Vogt asked the clerk: "Well, Heinrich, what shall we do with ourselves? Shall we go along and drink a gla.s.s of beer and look on at the racket for a bit?"

"If you like, Franz," replied Klitzing.

"Then we won't," said Vogt. "You ought to say at once when you don't like a thing. I don't in the least want to go myself, and we can always get beer in the canteen. We'll just walk a bit through the wood as far as the b.u.t.ts, shall we?"

Klitzing a.s.sented, and they waited till their comrades were off, then strolled slowly into the cool forest. Troops of men were leaving the camp gates to walk by the hard high road towards the villages that could be seen in the distance.

Vogt looked after the cloud of dust they made.

"Can you understand what they see in women?" he asked.

"No, indeed I can't."

"You don't care about women?"

The clerk shook his head. "And you, Franz?" he inquired.

"Not I. At any rate, not yet."

Walking on in the shade of the forest's edge they came at last to the b.u.t.ts. The black, tarred, wooden target had been put up ready for the next day, and cheerfully awaited the terrors of the firing that lay before it. A little to one side of the princ.i.p.al erection a ruined village stood out against the blue of the summer sky. It had been purchased by the Government and left standing to be used for testing the effect of shots upon buildings.

The sh.e.l.ls had certainly done their work. Substantial walls had gaping fissures right through them; gables and chimney-stacks had been laid low. Some of the houses seemed to have been set on fire by the shots, and any wood-work spared by the devouring flames had been stolen and carried away by some-one or other. No stairs were left leading to the upper storeys, nor boards to any of the floors. Rafters and beams had been hewn down; doors and windows with their frames had been torn out.

On some of the walls rude drawings had been scrawled in paint or red chalk, with facetious inscriptions and obscene jokes; but from most of them the whitewash had fallen, leaving bare the rough masonry. It was a depressing picture of desolation. One could almost imagine that the smell of burning still hung about.

Vogt gazed gloomily at the ruins and said: "And that's what things look like in war! By G.o.d, it's true! we must do away with war!"

Klitzing smiled quietly to himself: "Yes, but who'll be the first to begin?" he asked.

The regiment stayed fully three weeks at the practice-camp, and then accomplished the return journey to the garrison in three days.

The two friends were anxiously looking forward to the leave that had been promised the men after the gun-practice. They were to start on the first Sat.u.r.day in July, and had eight days' leave granted to them. Only very few had been allowed as much, and their captain did not fail to point out in a little speech that this favour was due to their blameless conduct at the practice-camp.

It was one of Wegstetten's little methods, when he found good qualities in his men and wished to spur them on, to make the meagre rewards that the service held out to them appear in a specially brilliant light.

Regardless of exaggeration, he spoke of that week's leave as if it were an extremely rare mark of distinction unheard of for years. And on the whole he gained his object. As Vogt and Klitzing stood before their commanding officer blushing with pride, they had the feeling that they must thank him, and promise to go on doing their duty. They only did not know how. At length Vogt plucked up courage and stammered a few words.

Captain von Wegstetten listened kindly. He had soon perceived that he had to do with two worthy, honest lads; and, with his own ends in view, he proceeded to inquire in a condescending way about their homes. When it then came out that the one had invited the other to stay with him, he praised them for their faithful comrade-ship, and took the first opportunity of relating this instance of the fraternising of town and country to the colonel, who liked such proofs of an individual interest being taken in the soldiers.

The first Sat.u.r.day in July was a day of excitement for the turnpike-keeper, Friedrich August Vogt. He was rather annoyed with himself for losing his usual calm. Why? because his son--his only son--was coming home for the first time? Really, that was not such an event as to put him beside himself in this way! And then next he blamed himself for having thought it unbefitting an old soldier, and too soft-hearted altogether, to go and fetch his son from the station. He could not remain in the house, so he went to a spot on the highway whence he could watch the railway. He could see the train coming in, and the clouds of white smoke from the engine rising up from behind the station; then he heard the whistle--but still nothing was to be seen of the two holiday-makers. Could Franz be stopping to have a gla.s.s of beer? No; now the two men could be seen emerging from the village on to the broad high-road, their helmets and uniform b.u.t.tons glistening in the sun--it must be they! The turnpike-keeper drew back a little, so that he was out of sight. Why should the boy know that he had been staring the eyes out of his head in order to catch the first glimpse of him?

When Vogt and Klitzing arrived at the house he looked out of the window as if quite by chance. "Ah, here you are!" and with a hearty grip of the hand he bade them both welcome.