Indianapolis Times, Volume 41, Number 93, Indianapolis, Marion County, 28 August 1929 — Page 7
AUG. 28, 1929
(%ll Quiet ° n th 'Westmi front ’’dy^maul
(Continued From Page I) factory adapted to the purpose. There are beds in it, or rather bunks—a couple of wooden beams over which wire netting is stretched. Wire netting is hard. And there's nothing to put on it. Our waterproof sheets are too thin. We use our blankets to cover ourselves. Kat looks at the place and then says to Hale Westhus. ‘Come with me.” They go off to explore. Half an later they are back again —th arms full or straw. Kat has found a horse-box with straw in it. Now we might sleep if we weren't so terribly hungryKropp asks an artilleryman who has been some time in this neighborhood: "Is there a canteen anywhere abouts?” "Is there a what?” he laughs. "There’s nothing to be had here. You won't find so much as a crust of bread here.” “Aren't there any inhabitants here at all then?” He spits. “Yes. a couple. But they mostly loaf around the cookhouse and beg.” "That's a bad business!—Then we'll have to pull in our belts and wait till the rations come up in the morning." But I see Kat has put on his cap. “Where to, Kat?" I ask. “Just, to explore the place a bit.” He strolls off. The artilleryman grins scornfully. “Let him explore! But don't be too hopeful about it.” Disappointed we lie down and consider whether we couldn't have a go at the iron rations. But it’s too risky; so we try to get a wink of sleep. Kropp divides a cigaret and hands : me half. . Tjaden gives an account ] of his national dish—broadbeans , and bacon. He despises it when not flavoured with bog-myrtle, and, “for j God’s sake, let it all be cooked together. not the potatoes, the beans, and the bacon separately.” Someone growls that he will pound, Tjaden into boy-mytle if he doesn't shut, up. Then all becomes quiet in the big room—only the candles flickering from the necks of a couple of bottles and the artilleryman spitting every now and then. We stir a bit as the door opens and Kat, appears. I think I must | be dreaming; he has two loaves of bread under his arm and a bloodstained sandbag'full of horseflesh in his hand. The artilleryman's pipe drops from his mouth. He feels’ the bread. “Real bread, by God! and still hot too!” Kat gives no explanation. He has the bread, the rest doesn’t matter. I'm sure that if he were planted down in the middle of the desert, in half an hour he would have gathered together a supper of roast meat, dates, and wine. “Cut some wood,” he says curtly to Haie. Then he hauls out a frying pan from under his coat, and a handful of salt as well as a lump of fat from his pocket. He has thought of everything- Haie makes a fire on the floor. It lights up the empty, room of the factory. We climb cut of bed. The artilleryman hesitates. He wonders whether to praise Kat and so perhaps gain a little for himself. But Katczinsky doesn’t even see him, he might as well be as thin as air. He goes off cursing. Kat knows the way to roast horseflesh so that it’s tender. It shouldn't be put straight into the pan. that makes it tough. It should be boiled first in a little water. Wit* our
CREOLE ORCHESTRA WILL OPEN SEASON
Indiana Roof Ballroom Will Swing Into Its New Dance Era Saturday Night With Bernie Young’s Band.
THE grand fall opening of the Indiana Roof ballroom this coming Saturday night will introduce to Indianapolis dance lovers a dance orchestra that, for the past four years has enjoyed a long run engagement at the Wisconsin Roof ballroom at Milwaukee, and for the past tV years has been one of the popular radio features of two Milwaukee broadcatsing stations, WTMJ and WISN. Bemie Young and his Creole orchestra, said to be one of the “hottest” rolored musical aggregations playing to the dancing public today, have be- -i booked for this gala opening occasion. The Creole orchestra is an entertaining band featuring novelties
ar.i specialties and playing an original dance rythm which should prove very popular with Indianapolis dancers. One of the outstanding featured members of the band is Orren Patterson. a rapid fire eccentric specialty dancer, who three years ago v on the title of the colored eccentric champion of America. Patterson will do his lightning steps between dances each night during the band's engagement at the roof. Among the personnel of the band are five musicians who devote their spare time in arranging special musical scores, three of them having completed a course in harmony at Illinois university. With this colorful and successful background. Manager Devine assures Indianapolis dancers the Cre-
CAREFUL CHOICE OF CITY DRIVERS URGED Safety Board President Points to New Motor Law. Selection of all drivers of cityowned vehicles with extreme care in view of the 1929 motor law was urged today by the board of safety. Fred W. Connell, safety board president, instructed Howard Robinson. board secretary, to inform the eleven city department heads of the 1929 statute which makes the city jointly liable in event of ac- j cldenta. "All drivers of city automobiles and trucks should be selected with care and no one permitted to drive a machine who does not have a driver's license,” the letter stated. Oren S. Hack, city corporation counsel, questioned the legality of the law making the city liable, con* tending ft conflicts with other statutes. '
. knives we squat round in a circle and fill our bellies. That is Kat. If for but one hour In a year something eatable were to be had in someone place only, within that hour, as if moved by a vision, he would put on his cap, go out and walk directly there, as though following a compass, and find it. j He finds everything—if it is cold, a small stove and wood, hay and straw, a table and chairs—but above all food. It is uncanny; one would think he conjured it out of the air. His masterpiece was four, boxes of lobsters. Admittedly we would rather have had a good beefsteak. We have settled ourselves on the sunny side of the hut. There is a smell of tar, of summer, and of sweaty feet. sits beside me. He wants to talk. Today we have been practicing saluting because Tjaden failed to salute a lnajor. Kat can’t get it out of his head. “You see we are losing the war because we can salute too well,” he says. Kropp stalks up, with his ! breeches rolled up and feet bare. He j lays out his washed socks to dry on i the grass. The two begin to argue. At the 1 same time they lay a bottle of beer on the result of an air-fight that's going on above us. Katczinsky won't budge from the opinion, which as an old front-hog. he rhymes: Give 'em all the same grub and all the same pay And the war would be over and done in a day. Kropp on the other hand is a ; thinker. He proposes that a declaration of war should be a kind of popular festival with entrancei tickets and bands, like a bull fight. Then in the arena the ministers and generals of the two countries, dressed in bathing-drawers and armed with clubs, can have it out among themselves. Whoever survives. his country wins. That would be much simpler and more just than this arrangement, where the wrong people do the fighting. The subject is dropped. Then the conversation turns to drill. A picture comes before me. Burning midday in the barrack yard. The heat hangs over the square. The barracks are deserted. Everything sleeps. All one hears is the drummers practicing; they have installed themselves anywhere and practice brokenly, dully, monotonously. What a concord! Midday heat, barrack square, and drummers beating! The windows of the barracks are empty and dark. From some of them trousers are hanging to dry. The rooms are cool and one looks toward them longingly. O dark, musty platoon huts, with the iron bedsteads, the checquered bedding, the lockers and the stools! Even you can become the object of desire; cat here you have a faint resemblance to home; your rooms, full of the smell of stale food, sleep, smoke and clothes! Katczinsky paints it all in lively colours. What would we not give to be able to go back to it! But we must not pursue that line of thought any further. Those early morning hours of instruction —“What are the parts of the 98 rifle?”—the midday hours of physical trainng—‘‘Pianist, forward! By the right, quick march. Report to the cook-house for potato-peel-ing." We indulge in reminiscences. Kropp laughs suddenly and says “Change at Lohne!”
ole orchestra will meet all requirements they would expect in a rhythmatic dance orchestra. In addition to the engagement of the Creole orchestra, a number of special features have been planned for the opening. a st u Indianapolis theaters today offer: Our Gang Kids at the Lyric, "French Models” at the Mutual, “River of Romance” at the Ohio, "The Greene Murder Case” at the Indiana. “Four Feathers” at the Circle, "Lucky Star” at the Apollo, “Our Modern Maidens” at the Palace,” and movies at the Colonial.
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■. That was our corporal’s favourite | game. Lohne is a railway junction. In order that our fellows going on leave shouldn’t get lost there, Himmelstoss used to practice the change I in the barrack-room. We had to learn that at Lohne, to reach the branch-line, tte must pass through a subway. The beds represented the subway and each man stood at attention on the left side of his bed. Then came the command: •Change at Lohne!” and like lightning everyone scrambled under the bed to the opposite side. We practised this for a whole hour . t CHAPTER V Meanwhile the German aeroplane has been shot down. Like a comet it bursts into a streamer of smoke and falls headlong. Kropp has lost the bottle of beer. Disgruntled he counts out the money from his wallet. “Surely Himmelstoss was a very different fellow as a postman,” say I. after Albert’s disappointment has subsided. “Then how does it come that he's such a bully as a drill-ser-geant?” The question revives Kropp, more particularly as he hears there’s no more beer in the canteen. “It’s not only Himmelstoss, there are lots of them. As sure as they get a stripe or a star they become different men. just as though they’d swallowed concrete.” “That’s the uniform,” I suggest. “Roughly speaking it is,” says Kat, and prepares for a long speech; “but the root of the matter lies elsewhere. For instance, if you train a dog to eat potatoes and then afterwards put a piece of meat in front of him. he’ll snap at it, it’s his nature. “And if you give a man a little bit of authority he behaves just the same way, he snaps at it, too. The things are precisely the same. In himself man is essentially a beast, only he butters it over like a slice of bread with a little decorum. The army is based on that; one man must always have power over the other. The mischief is merely that each one has much too much power. A non-com can torment a private, a lieutenant a non-com, a captain a lieutenant, until he goes mad. And because they know they can, they all soon acquire the habit more or less. Take a simple case: we are marching back from the parade-ground dog-tired. Then comes the order to sing. We are glad enough to be able to trail arms, but we sing spiritlessly. At one the company is turned about and has to do another hour’s drill as punishment. On the march back the order to sing is given again, and once more we start. Now what’s the use of all that? It’s simply that the company commander’s head has been turned by having so much power. And nobody blames him. On the contrary, he is praised for being strict. That, of course, is only a trifling instance, but it holds also in very different affairs. Now I ask you; Let a man be whatever you like in peace-time, what occupation is there in which he can behave like that without getting a crack on the nose? He can do that only in the army. It goes to the heads of them all, you see. And the more insignificant a man has been in civil life the worse it takes him.” “They say, of course, there must be discipline,” ventures Kropp meditatively. “True,” growls Kat, “they always do. And it may be so; still it oughtn’t to become an abuse. But you try to explain that to a blacksmith or a laborer or a workman, you try to make that clear to a simple soldier—and that’s what most of them are here. “All he understands is that he has been properly trained so that when he comes up to the front he thinks he knows exactly what he should do in every circumstance and what not. It’s simply amazing, I tell you, that the ordinary soldier survives so long up here in the front-line. Simple amazing!” No one protests. Everyone knows that drill ceases only in the frontline and begins again a few miles behind, with all the absurdities of saluting and parade. It is an iron law that.the soldier must be employed under every circumstance. Here Tjaden comes up with a flushed face. He is so excited that he stutters. Beaming with satisfaction he stammers out: “Himmelstoss is on his way. He’s coming to the front!” Tjaden has a special grudge against Himmelstoss. because of the way he abused him in the barracks. Meanwhile, Haie sits down beside us. He winks at me and rubs his paws thoughtfully. We once spent the finest day of our army-life together—the day before we left for the front. We had been allotted to one of the recently formed regiments, but were first to be sent back for equipment to the garrison, not to the re- | inforcement-depot, of course but to j another barracks. We were due to
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THU INDIANAPOLIS TIMES
l leave next morning early. In the i evening we prepared ourselves to square accounts with Himmelstoss. We had sworn for weeks past tc do this. Kropp had even gone so far as to propose entering the postal service in peace-time in order to be Himmelstoss’s superior when he became a postman again. He revelled in the thought of how he would grind him. It was this that made itr impossible for him to crush us altogether—we always reckoned that later, at the end of the war, we would have our revenge on him. In the meantime we decided to give him a good hiding. What could he do to us anyhow, if he didn’t recognize us and left early the next morning? We knew each pub he used to visit every evening. Returning to the barracks he had to go along a dark, uninhabited road. There we waited for him behind a pile of stones. I had a bed-cover with me. We trembled with suspense, hoping he would be alone. At last we heard his footstep, which' we recognized easily, so often had we heard it in the mornings as the door flew open and he bawled: “Get up!” “Alone?” whispered Kropp. “Alone.” I slipped round the pile of stones with Tjaden. Himmelstoss seemftd a little elevated: he was singing. His beltbuckle gleamed. He came on unsuspectingly. We seized the bed-cover, made a quick leap, threw it over his head from behind and pulled it round him so that he stood there in a white sack unable to raise his arms. The singing stopped. The next moment Haie Westhus was there, and spreading out his arms he shoved us back in order to be first in. He put himself in position with evident satisfaction, raised his arm like a signal-mast and his hand like a coal-shovel and fetched such a blow on the white sack as would have felled an ox; Himmelstoss was thrown down, he rolled five yards and started to yell. But we were prepared for that and had brought a cushion. Haie squatted down, laid the cushion on his knees, felt where Himmelstoss’ head
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I was and pressed it down on the pillows. Immediately his voice was muffled. Haie let him get a gasp of air every so often, when he would give a mighty yell that immediately was hushed. Tjaden unbottoned Himmelstoss’ braces and pulled down his trousers, holding the whip meantime in his teeth. Then he stood up and set to work. It was a wonderful picture; Himmelstoss on the ground Haie bending over him with a fiendish grin and his mouth wide open with blood lust. Himmelstoss’ head on his knees; then the convulsed, striped drawers the crossed legs, executing at every blow most original movements in the lowered breeches, and towering over them like a woodcutter the indefatigable Tjaden. In the end we had to drag him away to get our turn. Finally, Hale stood Himmelstoss on his feet again and gave one last personal remonstrance. As he stretched out his right arm preparatory to giving him a box on the ear, he looked as if he were going to reach down a star. Himmelstoss staggered. Haie stood him up again, made ready and fetched him a second, well-aimed beauty' with the left hand. Himmelstoss yelled and fell down on all fours, cursing. We disappeared at full speed. Haie looked around once again and said wrathfuily, satisfied and rather mysteriously: “Revenge is black-pudding.” Himmelstoss ought to have been pleased: his saying that we should each educate one another had borne fruit for himself. We had become successful students of his methods. He never discovered whom he had to thank for the business. At any rate, he scored a bed-cover out of it; for when we returned a few hours later to look for it, it was no longer to be found. That evening’s work made us more or less content to leave next morning. And an old buffer was pleased to describe us as “young heroes.” (To Be Continued) Copyright 1929. by Little. Brown & Cos.. Distributed by King Features Syndicate. Inc.
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