the school his first interview was with colonel Mannheim.
‘So you think you will manage Brucker?’
They were in the colonel’s office, Franz standing at one side of the desk, the colonel seated on the other.
‘Yes sir.’
‘Four months out of things is a long time.’
‘Yes sir.’
‘Before that you were doing well, in your classes, your training.’
The colonel took his time in lighting a cigarette.
‘But you know how much you’ve missed. It’s only because of your excellent results so far that we’re going to give you a chance to show that you can catch up. This is my decision. You understand?’
Franz looked straight at him, ‘Yes sir.’
That night he lay in the dormitory listening to the others trying to get to sleep. He knew it had been Steiner who had found him in the ditch.
Over the next days he waited for him to say something. He found himself watching Steiner whenever he could, in the dining hall, the lecture theatre, when they were preparing for bed. To watch him was to notice everything in a different way, his sharp features, tight, muscular body, his dark hair parted at the side, the easy, comfortable way he seemed to do things, and the sound of his voice that was slow and reassuring. He could hear his own version of that voice, hear those sounds beyond the dark silence where the pain had melted.
He found himself waiting for Steiner to mention what had happened. The others had been glad to see him back and then had carried on with their usual comments, avoiding all talk about his injuries, Schultz about the food in the dining hall, Frumm about too much training, Schultz about his fear of failing the end of year tests, Frumm trying to analyse when the country would be at war.
It was Steiner who finally mentioned his wounds.
‘Do you have to have them regularly checked out?’ he asked, sat across from him in the dining hall.
‘Every month,’ Franz warily answered.
‘I thought we agreed we wouldn’t say anything,’ was Schultz.
‘Well now we have,’ Frumm said.
‘I’m only asking,’ was Steiner’s sharp response.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Franz tried.
‘Four months. It’s a long time out of things.’
This was from Rilke, repeating the colonel’s words, a recruit who was at their table and was in the next dormitory to theirs. His darkly tanned face contrasted with his almost white hair. He was from Berlin and was one of the best shots in the first years.
‘I’ve missed a lot. I know,’ Franz agreed.
‘But at least you’re back,’ said Schultz.
‘And you haven’t missed anything but the same old stuff, parades, parades, dorm checks, parades, assault course and then another parade,’ Frumm moaned.
When the meal was finished most of the recruits went out on the parade ground before their afternoon classes.
Franz found himself walking beside Steiner.
‘Do you want a smoke?’ he was asked.
‘You know I don’t,’ Franz answered more angrily than he meant.
‘I thought you might have changed some of your habits.’
‘Well I haven’t.’
‘So it seems.’
‘I’m no different. The accident left me no different, except for what you can see.’
‘The scars make you look like a Prussian.’
Franz stopped and turned to him, ‘And what the hell do you know about Prussians?’
Steiner smiled and said, ‘Not a thing.’
‘You should try reading some military history.’
‘Of course, that’s why we’re here isn’t it, to continue a glorious tradition, to serve the country, to become leaders of men?’
They stopped to watch the second years strolling over to the dining room.
‘Look at them,’ Steiner said in a quieter voice, ‘You would think they were from a different world. Just imagine the war starting in the next few months. They would be alright but I wonder where that would leave us. We might miss the boat altogether.’
‘We won’t,’ Franz said.
‘Why so certain?’
‘You have to be.’
‘I wish it was that
‘So you think you will manage Brucker?’
They were in the colonel’s office, Franz standing at one side of the desk, the colonel seated on the other.
‘Yes sir.’
‘Four months out of things is a long time.’
‘Yes sir.’
‘Before that you were doing well, in your classes, your training.’
The colonel took his time in lighting a cigarette.
‘But you know how much you’ve missed. It’s only because of your excellent results so far that we’re going to give you a chance to show that you can catch up. This is my decision. You understand?’
Franz looked straight at him, ‘Yes sir.’
That night he lay in the dormitory listening to the others trying to get to sleep. He knew it had been Steiner who had found him in the ditch.
Over the next days he waited for him to say something. He found himself watching Steiner whenever he could, in the dining hall, the lecture theatre, when they were preparing for bed. To watch him was to notice everything in a different way, his sharp features, tight, muscular body, his dark hair parted at the side, the easy, comfortable way he seemed to do things, and the sound of his voice that was slow and reassuring. He could hear his own version of that voice, hear those sounds beyond the dark silence where the pain had melted.
He found himself waiting for Steiner to mention what had happened. The others had been glad to see him back and then had carried on with their usual comments, avoiding all talk about his injuries, Schultz about the food in the dining hall, Frumm about too much training, Schultz about his fear of failing the end of year tests, Frumm trying to analyse when the country would be at war.
It was Steiner who finally mentioned his wounds.
‘Do you have to have them regularly checked out?’ he asked, sat across from him in the dining hall.
‘Every month,’ Franz warily answered.
‘I thought we agreed we wouldn’t say anything,’ was Schultz.
‘Well now we have,’ Frumm said.
‘I’m only asking,’ was Steiner’s sharp response.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Franz tried.
‘Four months. It’s a long time out of things.’
This was from Rilke, repeating the colonel’s words, a recruit who was at their table and was in the next dormitory to theirs. His darkly tanned face contrasted with his almost white hair. He was from Berlin and was one of the best shots in the first years.
‘I’ve missed a lot. I know,’ Franz agreed.
‘But at least you’re back,’ said Schultz.
‘And you haven’t missed anything but the same old stuff, parades, parades, dorm checks, parades, assault course and then another parade,’ Frumm moaned.
When the meal was finished most of the recruits went out on the parade ground before their afternoon classes.
Franz found himself walking beside Steiner.
‘Do you want a smoke?’ he was asked.
‘You know I don’t,’ Franz answered more angrily than he meant.
‘I thought you might have changed some of your habits.’
‘Well I haven’t.’
‘So it seems.’
‘I’m no different. The accident left me no different, except for what you can see.’
‘The scars make you look like a Prussian.’
Franz stopped and turned to him, ‘And what the hell do you know about Prussians?’
Steiner smiled and said, ‘Not a thing.’
‘You should try reading some military history.’
‘Of course, that’s why we’re here isn’t it, to continue a glorious tradition, to serve the country, to become leaders of men?’
They stopped to watch the second years strolling over to the dining room.
‘Look at them,’ Steiner said in a quieter voice, ‘You would think they were from a different world. Just imagine the war starting in the next few months. They would be alright but I wonder where that would leave us. We might miss the boat altogether.’
‘We won’t,’ Franz said.
‘Why so certain?’
‘You have to be.’
‘I wish it was that
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