The Good Soldier Svejk (46 page)

"Here I come from the skies so blue, And I bring good news to you. Whether you're a cow, a calf or a bull, You can't do without a packet-full Of Kokoshka's powders if you're queer; They'll make your spasms disappear.

"Then when he'd had a drink and properly wetted his whistle, he finished it off in double-quick time, and very nice it was, too :

"This was invented by St. Peregrine, And a packet costs you only one-and-nine. St. Peregrine, keep our cattle from harm; They like your powders because they act like a charm. The grateful farmers all sing your praises, oh, St. Peregrine, protect our cows from woe.

"Afterward, when Mr. Kakoshka arrived, Mr. Tauchen went with him into the counting house, and when he came out again, he showed us two gulden instead of the one that he'd been promised, and he wanted to go halves with Ferdinand. But when Ferdinand saw the two gulden, filthy lucre, as they call it, got the better of him. He said he wanted the lot or nothing at all. So Mr. Tauchen gave him nothing at all, and kept the two gulden for himself, and he took me into the stock room and gave me a smack on the jaw and said I'd get a few dozen more like that if I ever told anyone it wasn't him who made up the prayer and wrote it down, and if Ferdinand was to go and complain to the boss about it, I was to say that Ferdinand was a liar. I had to swear I'd do

what he said, in front of a keg of vinegar. But our handy-man he got his own back over those cow powders. We used to mix them in large crates in the loft, and so he got together a lot of mouse droppings and mixed them into the powders. Then he went and collected horse dung in the streets, dried it at home, powdered it up in a mortar and put that into the cow powders too, along with the picture of St. Peregrine. And that wasn't enough for him. He went up into the loft where those crates were and took down his trousers and -"

The telephone rang. The quartermaster-sergeant clutched hastily at the receiver and then flung it down again, saying fretfully :

"I've got to go to the regimental office. I don't like the look of that, at such short notice."

Schweik was alone again.

Presently the telephone rang again.

Schweik picked up the receiver.

"Vanek? He's gone to the regimental office. Who's here? The orderly of draft No. 11. Who's that speaking? The orderly of draft No. 12? Pleased to know you. What's my name? Schweik. And yours? Braun. You don't happen to have a relative named Braun at Karlin, a hatter? You haven't ; you don't know him? I don't know him, either, but I once rode past his shop in a tram and the name just caught my eye."

"Any news?"

"Not as far as I know."

"When are we off?"

"I never heard we were going off anywhere. Where to?"

"To the front, of course, you chump."

"That's the first I've heard about it."

"You're a fine orderly. Don't you know that your lieutenant went to see the colonel?"

"Oh, yes, the colonel invited him."

"What difference does that make? Anyway, he went to see the colonel, and so did our lieutenant and the one from the 13th draft. I was just telephoning to his orderly. I don't like the look of all this running about. And don't you know whether the chaps in the band are packing up?"

"I don't know damn-all about anything."

"Oh, come off it! You ain't so soft as all that. Has your quartermaster-sergeant been given his orders yet? How many chaps have you got in your company?"

"I don't know."

"You blithering idiot, do you think I'm going to bite your head off, or what?" (The man at the telephone could be heard saying to some third person : "Here, Franta, take the other receiver and you'll hear what a bloody fool of an orderly the nth draft has got.") "Hallo, are you asleep, or what? Come along, answer up when a chap asks you a civil question, can't you? You don't know damn-all? Rats ! that be blowed for a yarn. Didn't your quartermaster-sergeant say anything about drawing the issue of tinned stuff? What, you never talked to him about things like that? You blithering ass. You don't care a damn one way or the other?" (There was a noise of laughter.) "You must have a tile loose somewhere. When you do get to know anything, telephone to the 12th draft, you perishing imbecile. Where are you from?"

"Prague."

"You ought to be a bit quicker in the uptake, then. Oh, yes, there's something else. When did your quartermaster-sergeant go to the office?"

"He was called away a little while ago."

"Well, why couldn't you have said so before? Ours went a little while ago, too. There's something in the wind. Have you had a word with the service corps?"

"No."

"Holy Moses, and you say you're from Prague? Why, you haven't got the foggiest idea about anything. Where the hell do you get to all day?"

"I only arrived from the divisional court-martial an hour ago."

"Oh, now you're talking. That accounts for it. I'll come and look you up to-day. Ring off twice."

Schweik was about to light his pipe, when the telephone rang again.

"Oh, to hell with the bloody telephone !" thought Schweik to himself. "I can't be bothered with it."

But the telephone went on ringing relentlessly, until at last

Schweik lost patience. He took the receiver and bellowed into the mouthpiece :

"Hallo, who's speaking? This is Schweik, orderly of draft No. 11."

Schweik then heard the voice of Lieutenant Lukash replying :

"What are you all up to? Where's Vanek? Call Vanek to the telephone immediately."

"Beg to report, sir, the telephone rang not long ago -"

"Listen here, Schweik. I've got no time for gossip with you. In the army, messages by telephone have got to be brief and to the point. And when you're telephoning, drop all that beg-to-report stuff. Now I'm asking you whether you've got Vanek there. He's to come to the telephone immediately."

"Beg to report, sir, I haven't got him here. He was called away a little while ago to the regimental office, hardly a quarter of an hour ago."

"Look here, Schweik, I'll settle up with you when I come back. Can't you be brief? Now pay close attention to what I'm telling you. Do you understand clearly what I'm saying? Don't make the excuse afterward that there was a buzzing noise in the telephone. Now then, immediately, as soon as you hang up the receiver -"

There was a pause. Then the telephone rang again. Schweik picked up the receiver and was swamped by a flood of abuse :

"You bloody, blithering, thickheaded, misbegotten booby, you infernal jackass, you lout, you skunk, you hooligan, what the hell are you up to? Why have you rung off?"

"Beg to report, sir, you said I was to hang up the receiver."

"I'll be back home in an hour's time, Schweik, and I'll make it hot for you. Now pull yourself together, and go and fetch a sergeant—Fuchs, if you can find him—and tell him he's to go at once with ten men to the regimental stores and fetch the issue of tinned rations. Now repeat what he's got to do."

"He's got to go with ten men to the regimental stores, and fetch the issue of tinned rations for the company."

"For once in a way you've stopped talking twaddle. Now I'm going to telephone to Vanek in the regimental office to go to the regimental stores and take charge there. If he comes back in the

meanwhile, he's to leave everything and go to the regimental stores at the double. Now hang up the receiver."

For some time Schweik searched in vain not only for Sergeant Fuchs, but for all the other N. C. O.'s. They were in the cook house, where they were gnawing scraps of meat from bones and gloating over Baloun, who had been duly tied up according to instructions. One of the cooks brought him a chop and thrust it between his teeth. The bearded giant, not being able to use his hands, cautiously took the bone in his mouth, balancing it by means of his teeth and gums, while he gnawed the meat with the expression of a wild man of the woods.

"Which of you chaps is Sergeant Fuchs?" asked Schweik, when he had at last succeeded in running the N. C. O.'s to earth.

Sergeant Fuchs did not even deign to announce himself when he saw that it was only an ordinary private who was asking for him.

"Look here," said Schweik, "how much longer am I to go on asking? Where's Sergeant Fuchs?"

Sergeant Fuchs came forward and, very much on his dignity, began to explain in the strongest of language how a sergeant ought to be addressed. Anyone in his squad who had the bloody cheek to talk to him as Schweik had done would get a biff in the jaw before he knew where -

"Here, steady on," said Schweik severely. "Just you pull yourself together without wasting any more time and take ten men at the double to the regimental stores. You're wanted there to fetch the tinned rations."

Sergeant Fuchs was so astounded that all he could do was to splutter :

"What?"

"Now then, none of your back answers," replied Schweik. "I'm orderly of the nth draft, and I've just been talking over the telephone with Lieutenant Lukash. And he said : 'With ten men at the double to the regimental stores.' If you won't go, Sergeant Fuchs, I'll report the matter immediately. Lieutenant Lukash particularly asked for you to go. There's nothing more to be said about it. Lieutenant Lukash said that messages by telephone have got to be brief and plain. 'When Sergeant Fuchs is told to go,' he

said, 'why, he's got to go. In the army, especially when a war's on, all waste of time's a crime. If this chap Sergeant Fuchs won't go, when you tell him, just you telephone to me at once, and I'll settle up with him. I'll make mincemeat of Sergeant Fuchs,' he said. My word, you don't know what a terror Lieutenant Lukash is."

Schweik gazed triumphantly at the N. C. O.'s, who were taken aback, and also very much upset by his attitude. Sergeant Fuchs muttered something unintelligible and departed in a hurry, while Schweik called out to him :

"Can I telephone to Lieutenant Lukash that it's all right?"

"I'll be with ten men at the regimental stores in a jiffy," came the voice of the departing sergeant, whereupon Schweik, without another word, left the N. C. O.'s, who were as astounded as Sergeant Fuchs had been.

"Things are getting lively," said little Corporal Blazek. "We'll be getting a move on soon."

When Schweik got back to the office of the nth draft, he again had no time to light his pipe, for once more the telephone began to ring. It was Lieutenant Lukash who spoke to him once more.

"Where have you been, Schweik? I telephoned twice before and couldn't get any answer."

"I've done that little job, sir."

"Have those men gone yet?"

"Oh, yes, sir, they've gone all right, only I don't know whether they'll get there. Shall I go and have another look?"

"Did you find Sergeant Fuchs?"

"Yes, sir. First of all, he answered me back a bit offhand, like, but when I told him that telephone messages have got to be brief and -"

"Stop all that jabber, Schweik. Is Vanek back yet?"

"No, sir."

"Don't yell into the telephone. Have you got any idea where that confounded Vanek is likely to be?"

"I've no idea where that confounded Vanek is likely to be, sir."

"He's been in the regimental office, and then he went off somewhere. I shouldn't be surprised if he's in the canteen. Just go and

look for him there, Schweik, and tell him to go to the regimental stores immediately. And then there's something else. Find Corporal Blazek immediately and tell him to untie that fellow Baloun at once. Then send Baloun to me. Hang up the receiver." Schweik discovered Corporal Blazek, personally witnessed the untying of Baloun, and then accompanied Baloun on his way, as this led also to the canteen, where he was to search for Quartermaster-sergeant Vanek. Baloun regarded Schweik as his deliverer and promised that he would go halves with him in every parcel of food which he received from home.

"It's slaughtering time there now," said Baloun in tones of yearning. "Which do you like best, saveloys or liver sausage? Just you tell me, and I'll write home this very evening. I should reckon my pig weighs round about three hundred pounds. He's got a head like a bull dog, and that's the best kind. Pigs like that never let you down. That's a good breed, if you like. They can stand plenty of wear and tear. I bet the fat on that animal's a good eight inches thick. When I was at home I used to make the liver sausage myself and I always had such a rare old feed of it that I was fit to bust. The pig I had last year weighed over three hundred pounds.

"Ah, that was a pig for you," he continued rapidly gripping Schweik's hand as they reached the parting of the ways. "I brought him up on nothing but potatoes and I used to watch him growing visibly, as you might almost say. I put the ham into brine, and I tell you, a nice slice taken from the brine and fried with potato dumplings, soaked in pork dripping and some greens on top of it, that's a fair treat. And after a good blow-out of that sort, you wash it down with a nice glass or two of beer. But the war's put a stop to all that."

The bearded Baloun sighed deeply and departed to the colonel's office, while Schweik made his way to the canteen through an old avenue of tall linden trees.