The Good Soldier Svejk (44 page)

had pulled him off the table and he'd fallen down and bumped his head. He said he still had very bad headaches every now and then, and when they came on he didn't know what he was doing, and that was the state he was in when he'd left the front line, and he didn't properly come to, like, till the military police were running him in. Holy Moses, you ought to have seen how they fairly fell over each other to get him out of the army, and other blokes who was in the same cell with him made notes on a bit of paper like this, because they thought it'd come in handy :

" 'Father : boozer ; Mother : tart.

" 'Sister no. 1: Drowned.

" 'Sister no. 2: Railway train.

" 'Brother : Jumped off bridge.

" 'Grandfather did grandmother in (paraffin oil, set himself

alight). " 'Grandmother no. 2 : Gipsies, matches.

" 'And all the rest of it.'

"And one of them started telling the tale to the staff doctor, but he didn't get any further than his cousin, when the staff doctor, who'd heard it all twice before, says to him : 'Oh, yes, I know all about you. You're the fellow whose female cousin on your father's side threw herself from a sixth-story window, and you've always been very backward, haven't you? Oh, yes, we'll put that right for you in the mental ward.' So they took him off to the mental ward and tied him up in a strait waistcoat. And it didn't take long before he got rid of his backwardness and his boozy father and his mother who was a tart, and he volunteered for the front mighty quick."

At this moment the key grated in the lock and the warder shuffled in.

"Private Schweik and Sapper Voditchka to go to the provost-marshal."

They got up to go, and Voditchka said to Schweik :

"See what rotters they are. Every day a cross-examination, and nothing ever comes of it. Why the hell can't they sentence us and have done with it, instead of messing us up like this? Here we are, just dawdling about every blessed day."

As they proceeded on their way to the cross-examination in the office, v/hich was situated in another part of the building, Sapper Voditchka discussed with Schweik when they were likely to come up for a proper trial.

"Nothing but cross-examination," he grumbled, "and it wouldn't be so bad if it led to anything. They just use up piles and piles of paper and no signs of a trial at all. They just let you rot behind the bars. And the soup isn't fit to eat. And what about the cabbage with the frozen potatoes? Did you ever come across such awful grub? Blimey, talk about the Great War! That ain't my idea of a great war."

"Well, I must say I'm pretty satisfied so far," said Schweik. "When I was doing my regular service it used to be much worse than this. Our sergeant-major, a chap named Solpera, he used to say that in the army every man's got to have his duties at his fingers' ends, as you might say, and then he'd give you such a biff in the jaw that you wouldn't forget in a hurry. Oh, I don't see much to grumble at now."

Sapper Voditchka mused for a while, and then remarked:

"When you come up before this provost-marshal bloke, Schweik, don't get flurried, but just pitch the same yarn as you did at the cross-examination, or else I'll be in a hell of a mess. The chief thing is that you saw those Magyar chaps go for me. Don't forget we share and share alike in this little rumpus."

"Don't you worry, Voditchka," said Schweik consolingly.

"Just keep calm. It's no use getting excited. Why, there's nothing much in a divisional court-martial, is there? You ought to have seen the way a court-martial polished chaps off years and years ago. There was a school master serving with us, and he told me once, when we were in clink, that in the Prague Museum there's a book with records of a court-martial in Maria Theresa's time. Why, every regiment had its executioner, and he just chopped off heads at a dollar a time. According to this book, he sometimes earned as much as five dollars a day."

They were just entering the offices of the divisional court-martial, and a sentry at once took them to office No. 8, where, behind a long table containing stacks of papers, sat Provost-Marshal Ruller. Before him lay a volume of the legal code, and on it

stood a half-f cup of tea. On the right-hand side of the table stood an imitation ivory crucifix with a dusty Christ who was gazing in despair at the base of his cross, covered with ashes and cigarette ends. Provost-Marshal Ruller was just causing the crucified deity fresh distress by knocking out a cigarette against the base of the crucifix, while with his other hand he was lifting the cup of tea, which had got stuck to the cover of the legal code. Having liberated the tea cup from the cover of the legal code, he went on turning over the pages of the book which he had borrowed from the officers' casino. It was by F. S. Krauss and bore the promising title :
Investigations into the Historical Development of Sexual Morality.

He was contemplating the diagrams which so effectively supplemented the text, when he was interrupted by a cough. It was Sapper Voditchka.

"What's the matter?" he inquired, searching for more diagrams and sketches.

"Beg to report, sir," replied Schweik, "my chum Voditchka here has caught cold and now he's got a nasty cough."

Provost-Marshal Ruller now looked at Schweik and Voditchka. He endeavoured to impart a stern expression to his countenance.

"Oh, you've turned up at last, have you?" he said, burrowing among the papers on the table. "I sent for you at nine o'clock, and now it's nearly eleven. Is that the way to stand, you lazy lout?" The last question was addressed to Voditchka, who was casually standing at ease. "Until I tell you to stand at ease, you stand up properly to attention."

"Beg to report, sir," announced Schweik, "he's got rheumatism."

"You'd better keep your mouth shut," said Provost-Marshal Ruller, "and don't answer back till I ask you something. Where the devil's that file got to? You two jailbirds are giving me a hell of a lot of work. But you'll find it won't pay
you to
cause all this unnecessary trouble."

From a stack of documents he now drew a bulky file, labelled "Schweik & Voditchka," and said :

"Just look at that, you mongrels. If you think you're going to

fritter your time away at the divisional court-martial over a paltry rumpus, and dodge going to the front, you're damned well mistaken, let me tell you."

He sighed.

"We're going to quash the proceedings against you," he continued. "Now you're going back to your units, where you'll be punished by the orderly room. Then off you'll go to the front. If you ever come my way again, you blackguards, I'll give you something you won't forget in a hurry. Take them away to No. Z."

"Beg to report, sir," said Schweik, "that we'll both take your words to heart, and we're much obliged to you for all your kindness. If we was civilians, I wouldn't mind calling you a jolly old sport. And we're both very sorry for all the trouble you've had because of us. We don't deserve it, and that's a fact."

"Oh, go to Hades !" the provost-marshal yelled at Schweik. "If Colonel Schroder hadn't put in a good word for you, you'd have had a damned rough time of it."

As the military clerks in the office had gone to fetch rations, the soldier who was escorting them had to take them back to the cells, which he did to the accompaniment of much invective against the whole race of military clerks.

"They'll take all the fat from the soup again," he lamented, "and leave me nothing but gristle. Yesterday I had to escort a couple of fellows to camp, and somebody pinched half my bread rations."

"You chaps here think of nothing but your grub," said Vo-ditchka, who was now his old self again.

When they told the volunteer officer how they had fared, he remarked :

"On draft, eh? You've been invited to join the personally conducted trip to Galicia. Well, you can start on your journey without any misgivings whatever. And I hope you'll find yourselves attracted by the regions where you'll be introduced to the trenches. It's a fine country and extremely interesting. You'll feel quite at home there. The wide and valuable experiences of our glorious army while retreating from Galicia on its first trip will certainly prove useful when the programme of the second

trip is being arranged. Follow your noses straight into Russia, and fire all your cartridges into the air for sheer joy of living."

In the office they settled everything promptly. A sergeant-major, his mouth still greasy from his recent meal, handed Schweik and Voditchka their papers with an exceedingly solemn expression. He also took advantage of the opportunity of delivering a speech, in which he made a special appeal to their soldierly spirit. His remarks were liberally embellished with elegant terms of abuse in his native Polish dialect.

The time now came for Schweik and Voditchka to take leave of each other. Schweik said :

"Well, when the war's over, come and give me a look up. You'll find me in The Flagon every evening at six o'clock."

"You bet I will," replied Voditchka.

They parted, and when there was a distance of several yards between them, Schweik shouted :

"Don't forget. I'll be looking out for you."

Whereupon Sapper Voditchka, who was now turning the corner by the second row of hutments, shouted :

"Right you are. After the war, at six o'clock in the evening."

"Better make it half past, in case I'm a bit late," replied Schweik.

Then, at a great distance, Voditchka's voice could be heard :

"Can't you make it six?"

And the last that Voditchka heard of his departing comrade was:

"All right. I'll be there at six."

And that was how the good soldier Schweik parted from Sapper Voditchka.

5.

From Bruck-on-the-Leitha to Sokal.

Lieutenant Lukash, in a state of great agitation, was pacing up and down the office of draft No. II. It was a dark den in the company hutment, partitioned off from the passage by means of planks. A table, two chairs, a can of paraffin oil and a mattress. Facing Lieutenant Lukash stood Quartermaster-Sergeant Vanek, who spent his time drawing up pay lists and keeping the accounts for the rations of the rank-and-file. He was, in fact, the finance minister of the whole company, and he spent the entire day in that dark little den, which was also where he slept at night.

By the door stood a fat infantryman with a long, thick beard. This was Baloun, the lieutenant's new orderly, who in civil life was a miller.

"Well, you've chosen a fine batman for me, I must say," said Lieutenant Lukash to the quartermaster-sergeant. "Thanks very much for the pleasant surprise. The first day I sent him to the officers' mess for my lunch, and he ate half of it."

"Begging your pardon, sir, but I spilled it," said the bearded giant.

"AH right, then you spilled it. You might have spilled some soup or some gravy, but you couldn't have spilled the roast meat. The piece you brought me was about big enough to cover
my
fingernail. And what did you do with the pudding?"

"I -"

"You ate it. It's no use saying you didn't. You ate it." Lieutenant Lukash uttered the last three words with such solemnity and stern emphasis that Baloun involuntarily stepped two paces backward.

"I've made inquiries in the kitchen, and I've found out what we had for lunch to-day. First of all, there was soup with dumplings. What did you do with those dumplings? You took them out on the way, didn't you? Then there was beef with gherkins. What did you do with that? You ate that, too. Two slices of roast meat. And
you
only brought me half a slice, didn't you? Two pieces of pudding. Where's that gone to? You gobbled it up, you greedy hog, you. Come on, what did you do with that pudding? What's that? You dropped it in the mud? You damned liar ! Can you show me the place where it's lying in the mud? What's that? A dog came up and ran away with it before you could stop him. For two pins I'd give you such a bloody good hiding that your own mother wouldn't know you. You'd try to make a fool of me in the bargain, eh, you low-down skunk, you! Do you know who saw you? Quartermaster-sergeant Vanek, here. He came to me and said : 'Beg to report, sir, Baloun's eating your lunch, the greedy hog. I was looking out of the window and saw him stuffing himself as if he hadn't eaten anything for a week.' Look here, sergeant, really you might have found something better for me than this lousy fellow."