The orderly nudges me. Taking his things with you?
I nod.
Weve got to move him right away, he continues. We need the bed. Weve already got them lying on the ground out there.
I take the things and undo Kemmerichs identity tag[63]. The orderly asks for his pay book[64]. It isnt there. I say that it is probably in the guard room, and leave. Behind me they are already bundling Franz on to a tarpaulin.
Once I get outside, the darkness and the wind are a salvation. I breathe as deeply as I can, and feel the air warmer and softer than ever before in my face. Images of girls, fields of flowers, of white clouds all pass rapidly through my mind. My feet move onwards in my boots, I am going faster, Im running. Soldiers come towards me, their words excite me, even though I cant understand what they are saying. The whole earth is suffused with power and it is streaming into me, up through the soles of my feet. The night crackles with electricity, there is a dull thundering from the front line, like some concerto for kettle drums[65]. My limbs are moving smoothly, there is strength in my joints as I pant with the effort. The night is alive, I am alive. What I feel is hunger, but a stronger hunger than just the desire to eat
Muller is waiting for me in front of the huts. I give him the flying boots. We go in and he tries them on. They are a perfect fit He digs into his kit and gives me a decent chunk of salami. And there is hot tea with rum as well.
III
We are getting reinforcements. The gaps in the ranks are filled, and the empty straw palliasses[66] in the huts are soon occupied. Some of them are old hands, but twenty-five young replacement troops straight from the recruiting depots have been assigned to our company as well. They are almost a year younger than we are. Kropp nudges me. Have you seen the kids?
I nod. We strut about, get ourselves shaved on the parade-ground, put our hands in our pockets, look at the new recruits and feel as if we have been in the army for a thousand years.
Katczinsky joins us. We wander through the stables and come across the recruits, who are just being given their gasmasks and some coffee. Kat asks one of the youngest of them, I bet you lot havent had any decent grub for a good long time, eh?
The recruit pulls a face[67]. Bread made out of turnips for breakfast, turnips for lunch and turnip cutlets with turnip salad in the evening.
Katczinsky gives an appreciative whistle[68]. Bread made from turnips? You were lucky theyre already making it out of sawdust. But what about beans? Do you fancy some?
The young soldier colours up. You dont have to take the mickey[69].
All Katczinsky says is, Bring your mess-tin.
Curious, we follow him. He leads us to a big container next to his palliasse. Sure enough, it is half full of beans with bully beef. Katczinsky stands in front of it like a general and says, Eyes bright and fingers fight![70] Thats the army motto!
We are amazed. Bloody hell, Kat, I ask, how did you come by that?
Old Ginger was glad to get it off his hands. I gave him three pieces of parachute silk for it. Well, beans taste just as good cold.
With a generous flourish he gives the young soldier a portion and tells him, Next time you turn up here with your mess-tin, youll have a cigar or some chewing tobacco in the other hand. Got it?
Then he turns to us. You lot get yours for nothing, of course.
We could not do without Katczinsky; he has a sixth sense. There are men like him everywhere, but you cant tell who they are just by looking. Every company has one or two of them. Katczinsky is the sharpest I know. I think hes a shoemaker by trade, but thats got nothing to do with it hes a master of everything. Its good to be a friend of his. Kropp and I both are, and Haie Westhus half belongs to the group as well, but he is really only an instrument, working on Kats orders whenever somethings going on that needs a strong right arm, then hes a good man to have around.
For example, we turn up one night in some completely unknown place, a miserable dump[71] where you can see at a glance that it has been stripped of everything that wasnt screwed down[72]. Were quartered in a small, dark, factory building that has only just been fitted up for use. It has beds in it, or rather, bedsteads, a couple of planks with wire-mesh between them.
Wire-mesh is hard. We havent got a blanket to cover it with, we need ours to put over us. Tarpaulin is too thin.
Kat sizes it up and says to Haie Westhus, Come on. Off they go into this completely unknown place. Half an hour later they are back with their arms full of straw. Kat has found some stables and thats where the straw comes from. We could sleep warmly now, if only we werent so damned hungry.
Kat asks a gunner who has already been in the area for a while, Is there a canteen anywhere round here?
He laughs. Not a chance. Theres nothing. You wont find a crust of bread round here.
Arent there any locals left, then?
He spits. Oh yes, there are one or two. But they just hang around every field kitchen they see and scrounge what they can. Thats pretty bad. In that case well just have to tighten our belts and wait until tomorrow when the rations come up.