A Little Garrison Part 9

"Last year, you remember, that one year's volunteer, Hoch? When he wanted to become sergeant, I did my best for him with the Chief, and so he got the chevrons. And he was not ungrateful. A whole box of wine--two dozen of these bottles. Pretty decent, wasn't it?"

"You're lucky, sure enough!"

"You see, my friend, how these things must be done. Always practical: that's my motto. Last year, for instance, I had charge of the mess provisions. The butcher put in a good many bones now and then, and I don't think that he ever gave over-weight. Naturally, I was after him, and the result was a 'blue rag' every week from him, and my family meat didn't cost me a red, either."

Roth broke into a hearty laughter. He slapped his pocket jocularly, and the jingling sound of gold and silver met their ears. Then he gulped down another gla.s.sful of the delicious wine.

"Why don't you drink, Schmitz? I suppose you are full."

"As to that, no; that takes longer. _Prosit!_"

In this style the conversation proceeded, and when they had emptied their third bottle it was very evident that they had drunk about as much as was good for them. Their eyes had a.s.sumed a gla.s.sy stare, and their faces were scarlet. Moreover, their speech was loud and bl.u.s.tering, and Roth, particularly, was unable longer to talk coherently, except with difficulty.

Suddenly he looked at the clock. "Six, by thunder. Time to look after the stables!"

"Yes, let's go," said Schmitz; "we must get to the stables, the beasts are hungry!"

They arose reeling. Roth girded his loins with his sabre, and both of them went clattering down the stone stairs of the barracks. The sabre struck the steps all along, as Roth descended heavily, and there was a terrific noise.

Several soldiers stuck out their heads as the two went along; and when they noticed their intoxicated superiors they quickly retreated into their own rooms, saying: "They surely have enough! If one of us went about in that way we'd be ripe for a pretty long term in the cooler."

At the turn of the corridor Dietrich, a good-service man belonging to the fourth squadron, stepped up to Roth and said: "I'd like to ask the Herr 'Vice' for some coal for Room X. My men have been out in the rain foraging, and all of us are wet to the skin. It is very cold upstairs, and unless we can heat the stove our clothes will not dry till to-morrow."

"What! Coal? Go to the quartermaster, you loafers; I haven't any coal for you!" spluttered Roth with a heavy tongue.

"The quartermaster has gone to town, and the Herr 'Vice' keeps the keys to the cellar in such cases!"

"Get out of my way, you ---- fool! You don't need coal every time a few drops of rain fall. Lie down in bed, you pack of swine, if you are cold, and leave me alone with your impudent complaints."

Dietrich stood for a moment in doubt, not knowing whether it would be safe to make another rejoinder. But he saw plainly that the "Vice" was in an irresponsible condition, and so silently, but with rage in his heart, he turned on his heels so that the spurs jingled, and went back to his men.

In the stables hardly anybody remained, the men having attended to their duties and retired. Only the stable guard was to be seen.

For stable guards men are taken, by preference, whose health has suffered in the hard service at this inclement season. One of them had incipient consumption, the regimental surgeon having noticed the man's condition only a week after his joining the squadron, and now the colonel thought it was not worth while discharging the man. The second one of these reserves had, since his civilian life, nursed himself so well as to have acquired a regular paunch, so that the quartermaster had been unable to fit him with any of the uniforms, and the man, put into a soiled canvas suit, had been permanently a.s.signed to stable duty. The third of this interesting trio was something of an idiot, hailing from the Polish districts. He grinned like a maniac, and he was entirely unfit for drill or any other kind of service that required even the faintest degree of intelligence; but, having been laborer with a Polish peasant, he knew how to handle horses and to clean the stable. He addressed, in his broken German, everybody, including the officers, as "Thou," and doffed his cap in token of military salute.

The foddermaster felt frightened when he became aware that feeding time was already considerably past, for he regarded the horses under his care with great affection. He therefore called up the stable guards and hurried them with a "Quick, now, you lazybones!" The fodder wagon was loaded with oats and chopped straw and then pushed into the main aisle of the stable. The creaking of this vehicle was for the horses the most joyful music every day. As soon as the sound struck their ears they became lively, raised their heads, craned their necks, and turned around, as far as their halters would permit, to watch the operation. They evidently had thought themselves forgotten to-night, and there was a keen edge to their appet.i.tes, so that some of them became a little unruly, kicking, neighing, and nipping at their neighbors out of sheer sportiveness. "Napoleon," the ancient stallion, had been devoured by such an acute sensation of hunger that as soon as the fat guard aforementioned came near him with the measure he tore it out of the man's hands and gave him such a push against his paunch that the guard dropped the oats and, pressing both hands against the injured part, ran out into the aisle.

Roth, watching things, saw this incident, and shouted to him:

"Go on, you lazy lubber, pick the stuff up again! Your fat carca.s.s won't be damaged by such a little blow!"

The fat individual, however, made no move to obey, but continued to hold his paunch, while tears of pain stood in his eyes, and his face a.s.sumed a livid hue. Roth strode up to him and began to belabor him with both fists, showering hard blows on neck and head. Then, grasping him by the throat, Roth turned the man's head around and administered such a well-aimed blow on his nose as to draw blood.

Under this punishment the ungainly soldier rose with difficulty, then bent down and began to collect the overturned oats. Roth, however, in his drunken fury gave the man a kick with his heavy boot, sending him against "Napoleon," whose hind legs he embraced in an effort to maintain his equilibrium.

But that was more than "Napoleon" would stand. First he didn't get his oats, and then such practical jokes! He struck out with both hoofs, hitting the poor devil of a guard against some of the most sensitive portions of his anatomy, and hurling him into the aisle like one dead.

Roth was frightened. Fortunately for him n.o.body had seen the incident, for Schmitz, with the other two men, happened just then to be busy at the other end of the stable. So he merely called the other two reserve men, and made them carry his unconscious victim to the reserve quarters close by. The whole business, though, was very disagreeable to him, for the poor fellow had been hit hard.

When the first lieutenant the next morning asked why the injured man had been taken to the hospital, Roth answered:

"He was too clumsy in handling the horse,--frightened it, and the beast naturally struck out. I understand he has got a good-sized hole in his head."

"What a beastly fool," scolded the officer. "By rights the fellow ought to be put in jail besides, as he will only spoil our horses."

But that was the next morning. On the evening in question, as soon as the accident had happened, Roth felt in worse temper than ever. He looked around for some one on whom to vent his spleen.

He looked in the fodder chest.

"Give the rest to 'Zeus'; he hasn't got quite enough, and he looks as lean as a goat," he said to Schmitz.

"No," Schmitz retorted; "he won't get any more. He has got enough--more than is good for him,--and this morning he struck out and hit a man. The horses are getting crazy, standing all the time in the stable and munching their oats."

"Oh, give it to him anyway; he can stand it!"

"But why? It's nonsense!"

Roth had a new access of fury; nothing enraged him as much as to be contradicted.

"Give him the rest, I say!" he said roughly to Schmitz.

But Schmitz shut the lid of the chest and answered shortly:

"I'm glad when I can save some fodder!" And with that he pushed away the cart.

Roth, quite beside himself, shouted:

"Sergeant Schmitz, you will not carry out my orders? I shall report you."

In saying which he left the foddermaster in a huff, went with uncertain steps and with black mien through the stable to his own quarters, drank a big gla.s.sful of raw spirits "to quiet his nerves,"

and then threw himself full-clad on the bed.

The two guards in the stable, who had observed these occurrences with considerable interest, stuck another handful of hay in front of each horse, and then lay down on the straw in the corner of the stable to sleep. Sergeant Schmitz, however, went to his room, completely sobered.

The following noon the orderly transmitted to the reserve squadron of the regiment a doc.u.ment reading as follows:

REPORT

On the occasion of the stable service last night Vice-Sergeant-Major Roth gave to Foddermaster Sergeant Schmitz a formal order, which the latter did not carry out.

When the said Vice-Sergeant-Major Roth emphatically repeated the order, the aforementioned Schmitz refused once more to comply therewith. This happened in the presence of the stable guards, and it is charged by the aforesaid Roth that Sergeant Schmitz was at the time in an intoxicated condition.

SPECHT,

_First Lieutenant and Squadron Chief of the 2d Reserve Squadron._

The foddermaster happened to be seated at his noon meal, when the sergeant-major stepped up, announced his arrest to him, and took him to the lock-up. There he was to remain until sentence should be p.r.o.nounced in his case, for his offence had been officially designated as "Peremptory refusal of obedience in the presence of men a.s.sembled." As such "men a.s.sembled" the two guards of the stable were regarded in the eyes of the law.

The incident was reported from mouth to mouth throughout the regiment, and by far the greater majority were indignant at Roth's action. Even the officers themselves declared unanimously that such a superior as Roth ought to be got rid of.

But Roth thought he had done something heroic, and seemed great in his own eyes. When off duty he declared he liked comradeship, and was ever ready for a good joke, not taking offence at anything. But when on duty, why, the devil, they should see that he was not to be trifled with. Every species of intimacy or friendship was at an end when on duty. Then it was: I order, and you have to obey, else I'll break your neck!