Officer Factory. Hans Hellmut Kirst

about the way in which he obviously intended it to be taken put him on the alert.

      Warily Kater asked: “You mean ?"

      “I don't mean anything," said Wirrmann at once. “I wasn't even hinting at anything. I was merely turning over in my mind the thought that, with the exception of course of our Führer, no human being's decisions are impeccable, unless of course he should be fortunate enough to have the law to guide him. All I was really getting at was this: even generals cannot be devoid of certain human sympathies."

      “And these have their dangers. Yes, you're right there." Kater nodded agreement. “Quite often to the disadvantage of decent, honorable men, sound reliable officers for example. In my own case there's the additional factor that this man Krafft is after my job as C.O. of the headquarters company. It's the only explanation of his behavior."

      “Well, yes," said Wirrmann slowly. “The General isn't your friend exactly. And this Krafft seems a fairly cunning and ruthless fellow. He may even succeed in pushing you out —a key job like yours is well worth having. But if Krafft is in fact to be your successor, then it can only be with the General's approval—that is, it can only be something he himself wants to happen."

      “Which isn't altogether out of the question," admitted Kater. “For what does the General know of my particular abilities? I do my duty at least as thoroughly as he. But he seems quite unable to appreciate the fact. The man has his limitations—of course I'm speaking quite confidentially between ourselves. All right—he knows a thing or two about strategy and tactics. But he hasn't grasped the simple truth, valid for thousands of years—for as long as soldiers have existed, in fact—that a soldier who is hungry and thirsty is only half a soldier."

      The Judge-Advocate disapproved of the crude hints Kater was dropping, of his carelessness and lack of restraint, but he didn't hesitate to exploit the situation.

      As if savoring the heavy bouquet of the wine, he said: " Things would certainly be very different—and not for you alone—if this training school had a commanding officer with whom one could collaborate more pleasantly."

      Kater stared at the Judge-Advocate. Hurriedly he filled up his glass and drained it at a draught. His moon face shone with new hope. In his mind's eye he could see the crates of wine he had stocked up for the benefit both of his brother officers and of himself, and imagined himself enjoying the fruits of his industry and ability, undisturbed and free from care. And he asked: “You think that might be possible?"

      “It depends," said the Judge-Advocate casually.

      “On what?"

      “Well," said Wirrman carefully, " I'm assuming of course that you realize that the only thing I'm interested in is the pursuit of justice."

      “Of course, that's taken for granted," agreed Kater readily.

      “My dear Captain Kater," said Judge-Advocate Wirrmann,

       “what we need is something to go on. Just something to start with will do. The very possibility of an offence is sufficient grounds for opening a case, and once a case has been opened it usually means that the man is automatically relieved of his duties. There are two points in particular I have in mind. First: the person of whom we are speaking has never categorically indicated his enthusiasm for our political system and our Führer. This could prove of considerable significance. Secondly: the person in question shows a remarkable interest in everything connected with Lieutenant Barkow, that's to say personally connected with Lieutenant Barkow. Now why is that? What lies behind it? Have we something we can go on here? Give the matter your attention if you're seriously interested in remaining in charge of the headquarters company here!"

      “Follow me, men!" whispered Cadet Weber. "No hanging back. A potential officer must be a match for every situation." Cadets Mösler and Rednitz slunk across the camp with Cadet Egon Weber threading his way through the darkness about ten to fifteen yards ahead of them. All three were keeping in the shadow of the transport sheds, avoiding the main thoroughfare of the camp and the sentries' patrols, as they headed for the Kommandantur building.

      They groped their way through the night, bent double. Their pockets bulged, for they were loaded down with bottles, and one of them cupped a burning cigarette in the hollow of his hand.

      “Steady, men," said Cadet Rednitz, not bothering to lower his voice particularly. “We mustn't overdo it; let's have something to keep our strength up first."

      “We’ve lost too much time already," objected Mösler. “We shouldn't have bothered about Hochbauer. Why did you have to go and tell him what we were doing! You know he's against this sort of thing."

      “One needs to keep in with Hochbauer," said Weber approvingly. “He’s bound to be our next section senior and he'll be twisting Captain Ratshelm round his little finger in no time."

      “Man," said Mösler thoughtfully, “when that day comes we're for it."

      “Hochbauer’s all right," Egon Weber insisted.

      “And you, Weber, are a damned fool," said Rednitz amiably. “As you'll find out for yourself one of these days. Want a bet?"

      They paused when they reached the cookhouse. Standing in the shadow of a supply shed they looked across at the Kommandantur. The moon obligingly hid itself behind a bank of clouds.

      Cadet Egon Weber uncorked a bottle and took a mighty swig. Then like a good comrade he passed the bottle on, while Rednitz kept a look-out for the enemy—a patrolling sentry or an officer.

      “What are we going to do if we're caught?" asked Cadet Egon Weber.

      “Look silly," said Rednitz.

      “And what are we going to say?"

      “Anything that comes into our heads—anything but the truth, that is." Rednitz liked to turn everything that happened into a joke. Mösler on the other hand was a person who spent his time systematically in pursuit of pleasure and wasn't particularly choosy where he found it. Cadet Weber simply did everything he was called upon to do from attending church parade to visiting a brothel. All that was needed was to appeal to his sense of comradeship and his physical strength, and then there was nothing he wouldn't do. As a result he was remarkably popular with everyone and his commission was a virtual certainty.

      For instance what if we run into the duty office?" asked Egon Weber.

      “Then," said Rednitz, reaching for the bottle, “the best man among us confronts him and sacrifices himself for the others. I imagine that will be you, Weber, because I don't expect you'll want to let anyone else deprive you of the honor."

      “All right," said Egon Weber, quite undismayed, " let's suppose that happens. Then the duty officer will want to know what I'm doing here."

      “You’re sleep-walking of course, Egon."

      “With a bottle?"

      “But that's the whole point!" insisted Rednitz. “Without a bottle there wouldn't be anything odd about you."

      “What’s all the nattering about?" said Mösler impatiently. “Why are we hanging about like this? Let's get on to the girls."

      “Steady now," warned Rednitz. “If we don't think things out carefully and watch what we're doing we'll be in trouble. I'll go ahead and see how the land lies."

      “You just want the best girl for yourself," said Mösler suspiciously. “That’s not playing fair."

      “And anyone who doesn't play fair," said Egon Weber, Section H's champion wrestler and always spoiling for a fight,” will have me to reckon with."

      Rednitz found himself powerless against such arguments. He had no alternative but to act in accordance with the principles taught him by Captain