SUB-LIEUTENANT Do I need telling? Put your mind at rest, I’ve bombed Venice.
SCHALEK Bravo!
SUB-LIEUTENANT In peacetime I used to head for Venice all the time, I loved it dearly. But when I bombed it from above — no, I didn’t feel the slightest flicker of false sentimentality. And then we all flew happily back to base. It was our finest hour — a day to be proud of!
SCHALEK That’s all I need to hear. Now your comrade is waiting for me in his submarine. I hope he proves as valiant as you! (Exit.)
(Change of scene.)
Scene 31
In a U-boat that has just surfaced.
MATE Here they come!
OFFICER Submerge again fast! — No, too late.
(Enter the journalists of the War Press Bureau, led by Alice Schalek.)
Gentlemen, yours are the first faces we’ve seen. It’s a strange feeling being back in daylight.
JOURNALISTS Well, tell us, what’s it like down there—?
OFFICER Terrible. But up here—
JOURNALISTS Give us details.
OFFICER He’ll give you them, the mate—
JOURNALISTS The maid? Schalek? Why only her? What about us? (After clearing up this misunderstanding, the journalists descend on the mate.) So, are those the torpedo tubes?
MATE No, they’re the potash cartridges for breathing through in emergencies.
JOURNALISTS Aren’t those the diesel motors?
MATE No, they’re water tanks.
OFFICER (turns to Alice Schalek) You haven’t said a word yet?
ALICE SCHALEK I feel as if I’d lost the power of speech. Permit me to touch on something that’s puzzling me. What I’d like to know is what you felt when you plunged this colossus with so many men in its belly down towards a silent watery grave.
OFFICER At first I felt over the moon—
SCHALEK That’s all I need. Now I’m quite sure of one thing: The Adriatic is ours forever!
(Change of scene.)
Scene 32
A factory requisitioned under the emergency regulations of the War Powers Act.
MILITARY SUPERVISOR Put ’em in chains, flog ’em, lock ’em up, and if all else fails, compulsory enlistment for front-line service — there’s nothing else we can do, that’s the lot. Our hands are tied.
FACTORY OWNER (with a dog whip dangling from his wrist) As far as possible, I try kindness. (He points to the dog whip.) But I’m at a loss to know what to do if these snivelling trades unionists keep on stirring up trouble — agitating for negotiations about the workers’ terms of employment, complaining about the food — how are we expected to keep going with all their claims about legal status and working conditions and the changes to workers’ rights in wartime—
MILITARY SUPERVISOR You’re telling me! Compulsory enlistment for ’em, and if possible for their union representatives too. As it is, we’ve wrung all we can from the War Production Act and the Army Reserve Act. No one can reproach us of negligence on that score. Best of all was the business in August 1914 with the blacksmiths and mechanics. In the morning they were still earning their 6 crowns for piecework, at midday the recruiting sergeant told them straight out: you’re in the army now, and behold, without a hitch, by the afternoon they were doing the same work at the same workplace — for soldiers’ pay. Complaints? Not a dicky-bird. But if you ask me, there’s no need for any recruiting sergeant—
FACTORY OWNER Oh ho!
MILITARY SUPERVISOR I mean, what we did at the Service Corps Depot in Klosterneuburg should have been done everywhere. I simply told ’em, you’re in the army now, so you’re only entitled to soldiers’ pay.
FACTORY OWNER Ah ha!
MILITARY SUPERVISOR One day they complained about rough treatment or what have you. I had them report to me and asked them who’d put them up to it. The fellow replies: “We’re organized workers and we asked our unions for advice, and they sent us two representatives”! All right, then, I say, let’s send for these gentlemen and they can join you and do some work instead of stirring up trouble. At that the fellow says: “We’re organized workers doing our duty for the Fatherland, but we also look to our union for protection.” I—
FACTORY OWNER The dog whip — nothing else works! So, Lieutenant, what did you—
MILITARY SUPERVISOR What did I do? Traitors, the lot of you, I told ’em, and in case you feel like complaining again in future, 30 days confined to barracks, and that’s final! Case dismissed!
FACTORY OWNER So lenient! I’m amazed! It was high treason!
MILITARY SUPERVISOR Well, you know, one mustn’t overdo it. The sad thing is, the civil courts still support the blighters.
FACTORY OWNER I know of such a case. At Lenz’s steelworks, in Traisen, where the fellows were getting paid 25 crowns a week as it is, two of them sued to get that overturned because the rate had originally been 44. The district court found against Lenz. You should have seen the smile on the faces of those two rascals as they left the courtroom!—
MILITARY SUPERVISOR I know the case — two policemen carted them back to the factory. The military supervisor there, a mate of mine, lands them with 10 days confined to quarters — and back to work. What a shining pillar of the state those courts are, I must say! Fortunately Lenz is the mayor, so he can have people detained on his say-so. That’s what he did with those women workers, had patrols pick ’em up on Christmas Day, off to the workplace and then into detention.
FACTORY OWNER They complained about me once to the union because of “ill-treatment” and inadequate wages. I ask you—38 to 60 cents an hour! Well, I sent for one of the ringleaders and said: You put in a complaint, but you know what this dog whip is for? And I brandish it. Up chirps the fellow: “We aren’t dogs.” So I just point to my gun holster and say: “For you, I’ve a revolver too.” He starts banging on about—“human dignity” or something. Anyway, the fellow really did manage in the end to get the complaints board to say the pay was too low!
MILITARY SUPERVISOR But of course he was immediately—
FACTORY OWNER Of course, compulsorily enlisted. Your predecessor was very obliging in that respect. There was another one who complained about too low pay, I had ’im flogged and your predecessor slapped on three weeks in the cooler.
MILITARY SUPERVISOR I’ll give you no cause for complaint either, you’ll see. Those fellows should be glad they’re not working in a mine, that’s all I say.
FACTORY OWNER I know. The military command in Leitmeritz made it a lot easier for the mine owners. The workers are simply reminded they took their oath on the articles of war, so complaining can in certain circumstances be interpreted as mutiny, in which case the instigators and ringleaders can be summarily court-martialled and condemned to death. Ah yes, the mine owners—
MILITARY SUPERVISOR At the anthracite cooperative in Eibiswald in Styria they have to work Sunday shifts, there’s no restaurant or café open after 8 pm. What’s more, during five days in detention they have to serve three on bread and water. They’re taken under escort from the pit straight to the communal detention centre, and that’s a fair distance. In Ostrava they started flogging right from the start of the war, systematically! On a bench in the police station, held down by two soldiers. The fellow got another thrashing after he squealed to his union rep. Anyone who complains — compulsorily enlisted, even if they’ve no military training. That’s how to treat ’em!