The Good Soldier Svejk (57 page)

There was also a train with an aircraft division. On another set of rails could be seen trucks containing aeroplanes and guns, but in a very damaged state. These were the remains of aircraft which had been shot down and the shattered barrels of howitzers. While all the new material was being taken up to the front, these remnants of bygone glory were being conveyed inland for repairs and reconstruction.

Lieutenant Dub, however, was explaining to the troops who had assembled round the damaged guns and aeroplanes that this was war booty. He noticed, too, that a little further on Schweik was standing in another group and holding forth about something. He drew near and heard Schweik's hearty voice :

"You can take it how you like, it can't be anything but war booty. It may look a bit rum at first, when you read 'Imperial Royal Artillery Division' on a gun carriage. But I expect that the Russians collared that gun and we had to get hold of it again.

Booty like that is a lot more valuable, because -

"Because," he solemnly continued, when he caught sight of Lieutenant Dub, "you must never leave anything in the enemy's hands. That's like the soldier who had his field bottle snatched away from him by the enemy while they were having a dust-up. That was during the wars with Napoleon, and in the night this soldier went off into the enemy's camp and brought his field bottle back, and he had the best of the bargain, because the enemy had drawn his brandy rations for the night." All Lieutenant Dub said was :

"Make yourself scarce and don't let me see you here again."

"Right you are, sir." And Schweik moved off toward another group of trucks.

Lieutenant Dub then continued to act the fool by pointing out to the soldiers an Austrian aeroplane which had been shot down and the struts of which distinctly bore the mark "Wiener Neustadt."

"We shot that down and captured it from the Russians at Lemberg," said Lieutenant Dub. Lieutenant Lukash overheard this remark and coming nearer, he added :

"Yes, and the two Russian airmen were burned to death." Then he went away again without saying another word, but thinking what a dreadful jackass Lieutenant Dub was.

Behind the second lot of trucks he encountered Schweik and endeavoured to steer clear of him, because the face of Schweik, when he gazed upon Lieutenant Lukash, showed that there was much of which he desired to unbosom himself.

Schweik walked straight up to Lieutenant Lukash.

"Beg to report, sir, I've come to see if there are any more orders. Beg to report, sir, I've been looking for you in the staff carriage."

"Listen here, Schweik," replied Lieutenant Lukash ; "the more I see of you the more convinced I am that you've got no respect for your superior officers."

"Beg to report, sir," said Schweik apologetically, "I used to serve under a Colonel Flieder von Boomerang, or something like that, and he was just about half your height. He had a long beard, and it made him look like a monkey, and when he got ratty he used to jump so high that we called him Indiarubber Daddy. Well, one day -"

Lieutenant Lukash tapped Schweik amicably on the shoulder and said in a good-humoured tone :

"Now then, enough of that, you ruffian."

"Right you are, sir," replied Schweik, and returned to his truck.

After midnight the train jogged on toward Ladovec and Tre-bisov, where the Veterans' Association had turned out to welcome

it, as they were under the mistaken impression that it was the 14th draft of the Hungarian militia, which had passed through the station in the night. The veterans had certainly drunk a drop too much, and when they yelled :
"Isten almeg a kirâly"
they woke up the whole echelon. Some of the more conscientious among them leaned out of the windows of the trucks and replied :

"Go
to blazes
!
Eljen
!"

Whereupon, the veterans yelled till the windows rattled :

"Eljen! Eljen a tisennegyedik regimente!"

Five minutes later the train was approaching Humenné. Here could be seen plain traces of the fighting which had occurred when the Russians were marching into the valley of the Tisza. Primitive trenches flanked the hillsides, with here and there the remains of a burned farm, and where this was surrounded by a hastily constructed shanty, it showed that the inhabitants had returned.

Later, toward noon, when they reached Humenné, where the railway station also showed traces of fighting, preparations were made for lunch and the troops were able to have a glimpse into the public secrets of how the authorities treated the local population after the departure of the Russians, to whom they were akin by language and religion.

On the platform, surrounded by Magyar gendarmes, stood a group of Ruthenian prisoners. Among them were priests, teachers and peasants from the length and breadth of the regions round about. They all had their hands tied behind their backs and they were fastened together in twos. Most of them had broken noses and bumps on their heads, as immediately after their arrest they had been thrashed by the gendarmes.

A little further on, a Magyar gendarme was having some fun with a priest. Round the priest's left foot he had tied a rope which he held in his hand, and with the butt end of his rifle he was making him dance a czardas, during which he pulled the rope so that the priest fell on his nose, and having his hands tied behind his back he could not
get
up, and made desperate attempts to turn over on his back, so that he might possibly stand up that way. The gendarme roared so heartily with laughter at this, that the tears came into his eyes and when the priest did at last manage
to
get

on his feet, he pulled the rope again and once more the priest fell on his nose.

This amusement was stopped by a gendarme officer, who ordered the prisoners to be taken into an empty shed behind the station, so that they could be mauled and knocked about where nobody could see them.

These goings-on were discussed in the staff carriage and on the whole they met with strong disapproval.

Ensign Kraus expressed the view that if the men were traitors they ought
to
be hanged on the spot, without any ill-treatment beforehand, but Lieutenant Dub thoroughly approved of the whole business which he at once connected with the Sarajevo outrage. He talked as if
the
Magyar gendarmes at Humenné
were avenging the death of Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife. In order to lend weight to his words, he said that he took in a monthly paper which even before the war, in the July number, had declared that the unexampled outrage of Sarajevo would leave a wound in human hearts which would not heal for many years to come. And so forth.

Lieutenant Lukash muttered something to the effect that probably the gendarmes at Humenné also took in the paper which had published that touching article. He then left the carriage and went to look for Schweik. He had suddenly begun to feel disgusted with everything and all he wanted was
to get
drunk and forget his sorrows.

"Listen, Schweik," he said, "you don't happen to know where you could lay hands on a bottle of brandy? I'm feeling rather seedy."

"Beg to report, sir, that's the change of weather. I shouldn't be surprised that when we get to the front you'll feel worse. The further you get from your proper military base, the queerer you feel. But if you like, sir, I'll collar some brandy for you, only I'm afraid they'll leave here without me."

Lieutenant Lukash assured him that they wouldn't be leaving for another two hours and that brandy was being sold in bottles, on the Q. T., just behind the station. Captain Sagner had sent Matushitch there, and he'd brought back a bottle, of quite respectable cognac for fifteen crowns. So there was fifteen crowns

and Schweik was to go, and not to tell anyone that it was fcr Lieutenant Lukash, or that he had sent him, because, strictly speaking, it was not allowed.

"Don't you worry, sir," said Schweik. "That'll be all right, because I'm very fond of things that ain't allowed and I've been mixed up in lots of things like that without even knowing about it. Why, once when we were in barracks at Prague we was told not to -"

"About turn! Quick march!" Lieutenant Lukash interrupted him.

So Schweik went behind the station, repeating to himself all the main points of his expedition. The brandy must be good, so he would have to taste it first, and as it wasn't allowed, he would have to be cautious.

Just when he was turning aside from the platform, he again ran into Lieutenant Dub.

"What are you loafing about here for?" he asked Schweik. "Do you know me?"

"Beg to report, sir," replied Schweik, saluting, "I don't want to know you from your bad side."

Lieutenant Dub grew rigid with horror, but Schweik stood there as bold as brass, with his hand touching the peak of his cap, and continued :

"Beg to report, sir, I only want to know you from the good side, so as you can't make me wish I'd never been born, like you was telling me a little while ago."

At this effrontery Lieutenant Dub shook his head and all he could do was to gasp forth in tones of fury :

"Get out of my sight, you skunk. You'll hear more about this."

Schweik went beyond the platform and Lieutenant Dub, struck by an idea, set out after him. Past the station, just by the highroad, stood a row of baskets, placed topsy-turvy, and on top of them were some wicker trays containing various dainties which looked as innocent as though they were meant for school children on an outing. There were fragments of sugar sticks, rolled wafers, a large quantity of acid drops, with here and there some slices of black bread with a piece of salami, quite obviously of equine origin. But inside, the baskets contained various kinds of

liquor, small bottles of brandy, rum, gin and other alcoholic beverages.

Just beyond the ditch skirting the highroad was a shanty in which all the transactions in prohibited drinks were arranged.

The soldiers first struck a bargain in front of the wicker trays, and a Jew with side curls produced the brandy from beneath the tray which looked so innocent, and carried it under his caftan into the wooden shanty, where the soldier unobtrusively slipped it into his trousers or under his tunic.

This was the place to which Schweik directed his steps while Lieutenant Dub, with his talent for sleuthing, watched his movements.

Schweik tried his luck at the very first basket. First he selected some sweets, which he paid for and put in his pocket, while the gentleman with the side curls whispered to him in German :

"I've got some schnapps, too, soldier."

A bargain was soon struck, Schweik went into the shanty, but handed over no money until the gentleman with the side curls had opened the bottle and Schweik had tasted the contents. However, he was satisfied with the brandy and having slipped the bottle under his tunic, he went back to the station.

"Where have you been, you skunk?" said Lieutenant Dub, standing in front of him as he was about to mount the platform.

"Beg to report, sir, I've been to fetch some sweets."

Schweik dived into his pocket and produced a handful of grimy, dusty sweets.

"I don't know whether you'd care to try them, sir. I've had a taste. They're not bad. They've got rather a nice, funny sort of flavour, something like raspberry jam, sir."

The curved outlines of a bottle stood out under Schweik's tunic.

Lieutenant Dub passed his hands over Schweik's tunic.

"What's that you've got there, you skunk? Take it out."

Schweik drew forth a bottle plainly and clearly labelled: "Brandy" and containing a yellowish liquid.

"Beg to report, sir," replied Schweik, quite undaunted, "I pumped a little drinking water into this empty brandy bottle. I've still got a shocking thirst from that stew we had yesterday. But,

you see, sir, the water from that pump is a bit yellow. I expect it's the sort of water that's got iron in it. That kind of water's very healthy and it does you good."

"If you're as thirsty as all that, Schweik," said Lieutenant Dub with a diabolical smile, "then have a drink, but take a good swig at it. Drink up the whole lot at one go."

Lieutenant Dub rather fancied that he was successfully piling up the agony. At last, he thought, he had driven Schweik into a corner. His forecast of events was that Schweik would drink a few gulps and would then give in, whereupon he, Lieutenant Dub, would triumph over him and say : "Give me that bottle and let me have a drink of it. I'm thirsty as well." And he pictured gleefully to himself how discomfited Schweik would be at that terrible moment, and then the various species of trouble into which he would be landed as a result.

Schweik uncorked the bottle, raised it to his lips and gulp by gulp the contents vanished down his throat. Lieutenant Dub was dumbfounded. Before his very eyes Schweik drank up the whole bottle without turning a hair. He then threw the empty bottle across the road into a pond, spat and said, as if he had just put away a bottle of lemonade :

"Beg to report, sir, that water really does sort of taste of iron. I used to know a chap who kept a pub near Prague and he used to make a drink that tasted of iron for the summer trippers, by throwing old horseshoes into the well."

"I'll give you old horseshoes, you ruffian ! You come and show me the well where you got that water from."