Part 6 (2/2)
At this the general finally gave in, arose with a sigh, and said, half in jest, half in annoyance to the lady beside him:
”A drumfire would be more welcome!” Then he followed his adjutant and shook hands jovially with the bald civilian, who popped up from his seat and bent at the middle like a penknife snapping shut. His Excellency invited him to be seated.
The war correspondent stammered a few words of admiration, and opened his note-book expectantly, a whole string of questions on his lips.
But His Excellency did not let him speak. In the course of time he had constructed for occasions like this a speech in which every point was well thought out and which made a simple impression. He delivered it now, speaking with emphasis and pausing occasionally to recall what came next.
To begin with he spoke of his brave soldiers, praising their courage, their contempt of death, their wonderful deeds of valor. Then he expressed regret at the impossibility of rewarding each soldier according to his merits, and--this in a raised voice--invoked the fatherland's eternal grat.i.tude for such loyalty and self-abnegation even unto death. Pointing to the heavy crop of medals on his chest, he explained that the distinctions awarded him were really an honor done to his men. Finally he wove in a few well-chosen remarks complimenting the enemy's fighting ability and cautious leaders.h.i.+p, and concluded with an expression of his unshakable confidence in ultimate victory.
The newspaper man listened respectfully and occasionally jotted down a note. The main thing, of course, was to observe the Great One's appearance, his manner of speech, his gestures, and to sum up his personality in a few striking phrases.
His Excellency now discarded his military role, and changed himself from the Victor of ---- into the man of the world.
”You are going to the front now?” he asked with a courteous smile, and responded to the correspondent's enthusiastic ”Yes” with a deep, melancholy sigh.
”How fortunate you are! I envy you. You see, the tragedy in the life of the general of to-day is that he cannot lead his men personally into the fray. He spends his whole life preparing for war, he is a soldier in body and soul, and yet he knows the excitement of battle only from hearsay.”
The correspondent was delighted with this subjective utterance which he had managed to evoke. Now he could show the commander in the sympathetic role of one who renounces, one who cannot always do as he would. He bent over his note-book for an instant. When he looked up again he found to his astonishment that His Excellency's face had completely changed. His brow was furrowed, his eyes stared wide-open with an anxiously expectant look in them at something back of the correspondent.
The correspondent turned and saw a pale, emaciated infantry captain making straight toward His Excellency. The man was grinning and he had a peculiar shambling walk. He came closer and closer, and stared with gla.s.sy, glaring eyes, and laughed an ugly idiotic laugh. The adjutant started up from his seat frightened. The veins on His Excellency's forehead swelled up like ropes. The correspondent saw an a.s.sa.s.sination coming and turned pale. The uncanny captain swayed to within a foot or two of the general and his adjutant, then stood still, giggled foolishly, and s.n.a.t.c.hed at the orders on His Excellency's chest like a child s.n.a.t.c.hing at a beam of light.
”Beautiful--s.h.i.+nes beautifully--” he gurgled in a thick voice. Then he pointed his frightfully thin, trembling forefinger up at the sun and shrieked, ”Sun!” Next he s.n.a.t.c.hed at the medals again and said, ”s.h.i.+nes beautifully.” And all the while his restless glance wandered hither and thither as if looking for something, and his ugly, b.e.s.t.i.a.l laugh repeated itself after each word.
His Excellency's right fist was up in the air ready for a blow at the fellow's chest for approaching him so disrespectfully, but, instead, he laid his hand soothingly on the poor idiot's shoulder.
”I suppose you have come from the hospital to listen to the music, Captain?” he said, winking to his adjutant. ”It's a long ride to the hospital in the street-car. Take my automobile. It's quicker.”
”Auto--quicker,” echoed the lunatic with his hideous laugh. He patiently let himself be taken by the arm and led away. He turned round once with a grin at the glittering medals, but the adjutant pulled him along.
The general followed them with his eyes until they entered the machine.
The ”storm-signal” was hoisted ominously between his eyebrows. He was boiling with rage at such carelessness in allowing a creature like that to walk abroad freely. But in the nick of time he remembered the civilian at his side, and controlled himself, and said with a shrug of the shoulders:
”Yes, these are some of the sad aspects of the war. You see, it is just because of such things that the leader must stay behind, where nothing appeals to his heart. No general could ever summon the necessary severity to direct a war if he had to witness all the misery at the front.”
”Very interesting,” the correspondent breathed gratefully, and closed his book. ”I fear I have already taken up too much of Your Excellency's valuable time, but may I be permitted one more question? When does Your Excellency hope for peace?”
The general started, bit his underlip, and glanced aside with a look that would have made every staff officer of the ----th Army shake in his boots. With a visible effort he put on his polite smile and pointed across the square to the open portals of the old cathedral.
”The only advice I can give is for you to go over there and ask our Heavenly Father. He is the only one who can answer that question.”
A friendly nod, a hearty handshake, then His Excellency strode to his office across the square amid the respectful salutations of the crowd.
When he entered the building the dreaded furrow cleaving his brow was deeper than ever. An orderly tremblingly conducted him to the office of the head army physician. For several minutes the entire house held its breath while the voice of the Mighty One thundered through the corridors. He ordered the fine old physician to come to his table as if he were his secretary, and dictated a decree forbidding all the inmates of the hospitals, without distinction or exception, whether sick or wounded, to leave the hospital premises. ”For”--the decree concluded--”if a man is ill, he belongs in bed, and if he feels strong enough to go to town and sit in the coffee-house, he should report at the front, where his duty calls him.”
This pacing to and fro with clinking spurs and this thundering at the cowering old doctor calmed his anger. The storm had about blown over when unfortunately the general's notice was drawn to the report from the brigade that was being most heavily beset by the enemy and had suffered desperate losses and was holding its post only in order to make the enterprise as costly as possible to the advancing enemy. Behind it the mines had already been laid, and a whole new division was already in wait in subterranean hiding ready to prepare a little surprise for the enemy after the doomed brigade had gone to its destruction. Of course, the general had not considered it necessary to inform the brigadier that he was holding a lost post and all he was to do was to sell his hide as dearly as possible. The longer the struggle raged the better! And men fight so much more stubbornly if they hope for relief until the very last moment.
All this His Excellency himself had ordained, and he was really greatly rejoiced that the brigade was still holding out after three overwhelming infantry charges. But now a report lay before him which went against all military tradition; and it brought back the storm that had been about to subside.
The major-general (His Excellency made careful note of his name) described the frightful effect of the drumfire in a nervous, talkative way that was most unmilitary. Instead of confining himself to a statement of numbers, he explained at length how his brigade had been decimated and his men's power of resistance was gone. He concluded his report by begging for reinforcements, else it would be impossible for the remnant of his company to withstand the attack to take place that night.
”Impossible? Impossible?” His Excellency blared like a trumpet into the ears of the gentlemen standing motionless around him. ”Impossible?
<script>