“I don’t know,” the veteran said. “It’s possible.”
“You certainly know how to raise morale,” said Hals in irritation.
“Do you want the truth, or a fairy story?”
I felt as though I were wandering through a landscape shrouded with fog and strewn with rubble. I knew that I could never manage to be disappointed again. Before mourning with the suffering world, I would somehow have to regain my balance. Of course I thought of Paula, but it was so long since I had heard anything from her that I wondered if I would even be capable of reading a letter if we should suddenly get mail. I was filling up with bad news like a barrel filling with water from a rainpipe. When the barrel is full to overflowing, all the torrents in the world are incapable of adding to its capacity.
We found ourselves in one of the rare trains still moving through that region, rolling toward East Prussia through the first frosts of our third winter of war — the fifth or sixth for some of the older men. We moved at night, with all our lights out, as Russian planes, which occupied our bases in Poland, were particularly active by day. We were moving toward Prussia, Lithuania, Latvia, and the Courland front, to which the remnants of several German divisions were clinging.
Through the darkness and the thick fog we could see large masses of people moving on foot across the northern Polish landscape. At first, we thought we were watching infantry units on the march, but after several good looks we realized we were watching civilians — thousands of them — fleeing through the night and fog to escape the Red hordes who they sensed were very close behind them. We couldn’t linger to watch those people, but could easily imagine their situation.
Then we crossed the Prussian frontier, into the home territory of Lensen and Smellens — two pure-bred Prussians, suddenly back on their native soil. Lensen stood up and leaned over the carriage door to get a closer look at his country. The rest of us didn’t care so much: the landscape was scarcely distinguishable from that of Poland. Perhaps there were a few more lakes. Otherwise, as in Poland, there was forest.
“You really ought to see it when there’s snow on the ground,” Lensen said. He was suddenly smiling again. “This way, you can’t really tell what it’s like.”
As we remained silent and uninterested, he spoke up again.
“You’re in Germany, for the love of God! Wake up! Think how long you’ve been dreaming of this.”
“East Germany,” Wiener said, “practically the front. And then, I don’t know if you realize it, but I have a compass, and I can tell you we’re moving to the northeast, which is no good at all.”
Once again Lensen turned purple with anger.
“You’re nothing but a bunch of milksops,” he said. “It’s your kind of defeatism that’s brought us to this. The war is already lost inside your goddamned heads, but you’ve got to fight anyway, whether you want to or not.”
“Shut up!” shouted five or six voices. “If they want us to win the war, let them treat us like normal soldiers.”
“You’re just a bunch of whining puppies. The whole time I’ve known you, you’ve done nothing but whine. For you, the war has been lost since Voronezh.”
“For good reason,” Hals said.
“You’ll fight, whatever the cost, and I’m the one who’s telling you because you have no choice. There’s no other way out.”
The veteran stood up.
“Yes, Lensen, we’ll fight — because we can’t stand the idea of defeat any better than you can. And we have no choice. I don’t, anyway. I’m part of a machine which operates a certain way, and only that way — and I’ve been part of it for too long.”
We stared at Wiener, somewhat taken aback. We had thought he would be able to adapt himself to any kind of life. And now here he was saying that he could live only for the cause which had already cost him so much.
Lensen went on grumbling, and we went on thinking confusedly about the glimpse of the future the veteran had given us. For me, from the vantage point of Prussia, France seemed remote and unimportant. The cause which Wiener spoke of was also my cause, and despite all the difficulties and disappointments I had endured, I still felt closely linked to it. I knew that the struggle was becoming more and more serious, and that we would soon be obliged to face appalling possibilities. I felt a strong sense of solidarity with my comrades, and I could think of my own death without too much flinching, as a soothing veil that would fall slowly over me and all my terrors of the past, present, and future. My head seemed to be filled with a milky fog, which was without joy, but which suddenly made everything easy. Did my comrades feel the same way? I couldn’t be sure, but my resignation seemed general. We rolled on for several hours at a reduced speed. Finally we stopped and walked through the gray, foggy morning to a camp of wooden huts, whose appearance recalled the robust military organization only recently lost. We were given an hour to rest, and the chance of a cup of hot water with a few grains of soya in it.
“And to think that some fellows volunteered for the food,” somebody muttered.
“There couldn’t be too many volunteering these days,” another voice said. “Very few are around for long enough even to dream of becoming an officer. There’s hardly the time to make obergefreiter, before they’re getting a posthumous stripe.”
A few were still around for a little longer than that.
Then a major, who was probably the camp commander, spoke to us.
“Proud soldiers of the Gross Deutschland,” he said. “Your arrival in this sector fills us with joy. We know your reputation for courage in combat, which gives us a strong sense of support. Your comrades-in-arms in the infantry regiments fighting in the Polish forests near our frontiers feel as we do. Your arrival here reassures and comforts us, and also helps us in the extremely difficult task which has fallen on us: the defense of German and European liberty against the Bolsheviks, who would take it from us, employing the most extreme and bestial means. Today, more than ever before, our unity in combat must be total and deliberate. With the addition of your strength, we shall build a definitive rampart against the Soviet horde. Think of yourselves as the trailblazers of the European revolution, and feel proud that you have been chosen for this undertaking, however heavy it may be. I wish the greatest possible glory for you, and convey to you the congratulations of the Führer and of the High Command. Transportation and food have been specially placed at your disposal to help you in achieving your aims. Bravo, soldiers, and courage. I know that so long as a single German soldier remains alive no Bolshevik will ever tread on German soil. Heil Hitler!”
We gaped at the elegant officer in stunned silence, trying to penetrate the veil of ignorance which hid our valor from us.
“Heil Hitler!” shouted a feld, who realized that the prescribed response to the major’s remarks had not occurred.
“Heil Hitler!” we shouted heroically.
“Either I’m crazy,” Kellerman muttered, “or he was expecting us to raise his morale.”
“Ssht,” said Prinz. “We’re getting another speech.”
This time, it was a hauptmann.
“It will be my privilege,” he said, “to take two-thirds of the men in your regiment under my command, and lead them into battle.”
We all had known what was waiting for us, but that phrase made us swallow hard.
“The entire division will be operating in a sector to the north of us. It will be broken up into several fragments so that a series of widely scattered attacks can be made against the Russian thrust, which is extremely strong in this sector. I am expecting from you the utmost in courage and actions of distinction and glory. These are essential because we must stop the Russians here. No negligence or hesitation will be allowed. Three officers can constitute a court-martial at any time, and sanction any penalty….”