Chapter Thirty-One

As always, the italicized parts are what I'm unsure about.

    Messages of victory came from the west, one followed an-other, as thick as hail they fell.  Liège was taken in the storm.  With a swiftness like one never dreamed, the conquering German foot stept

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into Belgium; the iron fist smashed one fortress after an-other.

    A strong charge went through the people; after the war had just begun, the sun of victory already shone.

    Hans was pulled away by the general movement.  Wonders and signs seemed to happen; God, Who did not let Himself be mocked, kept His protecting hand over the just cause.  No drowning praise, no premature jubilation, but humble, fervent gratitude flowed out of the sermons that Hans Warsow preached in St. Nikolai.  It had been little at first.  But they had caught on.  The more deeply he was gript by the significance of this day, by all of his belief and hope in the surpassing unity of his people, the more freely and powerfully the word flowed from his lips.  He did not need to form it at all; he just gave expression to what lay there ready and prepared in his heart; he had to speak because the urge of his heart forced him.  He had always been able only to form the experience, but now he experienced everything with a sincerity of sorrow, with a fervor of enthusiasm, of which he had hardly had an idea until now.  The whole extent and meaning of his duty were wrapt up in these last few days for him.  All doubts as such and all hesitating had given way; he was happy to be allowed to work in his beloved home province in this difficult time.

    After those first victories, one heard nothing at all from the east border.  But here Hans was of good confidence.  And if ever a doubt of impatience wanted to stir in him, then Fritz's image stood before his soul, the bright courage and the firm will to win with which he had gone out

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and which had indelibly imprinted itself on him.

    Then came the news of the outrageous horrors that occur in Belgium.  Just as in the whole German empire, also in Rodenburg they set off an unrestrained bitterness, but it affected no one as much as Hans.

    He could not grasp it that a Christian, a related people for whom he had always had a special love, whose rich art treasures from east of the Rheinland he visited, that such a people was capable of this dreadful barbarity.  What shockt the others became for him a pain that ate deeper and deeper.

    Else saw the grief that undermined him and understood it because she knew his nature and his disposition.  He, however, threw himself into his work with doubled energy.  The activity in the military hospitals, which were still in little demand, did not fill his time, so he dedicated himself to the care of the poor; he called on them in their need; he became a comforter and helper for them.

    A card from Fritz arrived.  "We have had very strenuous marches," he wrote, "often forty kilometers per day.  But I am healthy and have a cheerful confidence of victory."

    At the same time, however, a serious piece of news came, spread from mouth to mouth, and cut through the city like a hawk's cry:  the Germans had been involved with a dreadful Russian superior.  A few wounded, who arrived, confirmed the rumor:  their comrades fought with incredible bravery; they had even won a victory, but like a flood, new armies always rolled over them.  When one was shot down, ten more would immediately stand up in his place.  The casualties that the

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Germans had taken were inexpressible.  Especially the Rodenburg regiments, the infantry, but also several batteries of the artillery had been in the most severe rain of shells.  They had stood like the wall, but their rows had been severely thinned out by the fire that the enemy fired from secured fortifications.

    The rumor swelled; the carriers of the wounded became greater; the hospitals filled; the doctors and nurses could hardly manage the work; day and night there was operating, bandaging, tending.

    In the association building there were only a few beds still free.  Dr. Moll, the leading doctor, ate neither at noon nor in the evening; he wasn't at home at all anymore.  Else hadn't been out of her clothes in days.  But in the midst of all the grating activity, she remained the same:  friendly and kind to each of her patients and yet of an unbending definiteness.

    Also over in the lodge For the Golden Key the picture had become much more serious; the charming play of the views and flowers was at an end; now much moaning and groaning also sounded through these halls.

    Mrs. Lisa, however, showed that she had grown for the seriousness.  The strength and litheness of her youthful body let her overcome the difficulty of the unusual work; indeed, the hotter this was, the better it appeared to her.  So also the sunshine now came and went with her, passed like a sweet dream of home over the beds of the sorely tried men, played like a quiet smile of the flashing lips, a thankful brightening of half-opened eyes.

    Hans, however, stood behind neither

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the doctors nor the directors in devoted work.  Among the wounded were many whom he knew well.  He had set out to see him fresh in flourishing youth or in powerful manhood; he found him again miserable and infirm.  The horror of the war spoke to him with violent tongues.  Some, on whose bed he sat, told him about the battle that now raged out there, the one in a clear, coherent account, the other in short sentences repeatedly broken off by pain.

    The accounts and the local proximity let his finely organized mind experience everything as if he were standing in the middle of it.  He heard the rattling and clattering of the machine guns, the whistling of the bullets, the bursting of the salvos.  The lines thinned out; here fell one, struggled to his feet, dropt forwards with a last, desperate strength, fell down... there one was knocked to the ground, hard, hit like a piece of iron, and did not stand up again.  The grenades whistled, sprayed, banged, a hail of lead and fire.  Burr... burr... ratsch... ratsch... rrrr... bum..., so it rumbled and ran in his entire body.  And always his thoughts were on Fritz.  Where could he be now?

    Just now they brought one from his squadron.  "Our captain?  I saw him yester-day still in the middle of the fire.  Always up front; there it is no big deal to go with."

*   *   *

    "Miss von Barrnhoff?  Really!"

    He had actually not recognized her at first when she, in the gray uniform of the nurses, the bonnet on her head, stept into his office.  "Assigned to the community hospital as assistant, with

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orders to announce myself to Pastor Warsow of St. Nikolai."

    Through the importance of her words flashed the rascal; even in the uniform of the Samaritan, she had the aristocratic bearing that she never abandoned.

    "Well, you too!"  Yet at the same time suspicion stirred.  "Quite frankly, I had hardly expected it after your opinion back when I askt you about their assistance in our congregation."

    "Back then I justified my refusal to you.  Now everything is become different.  What appeared to me back then as dilettantism of work is now duty, necessity, even happiness."

    He was still not convinced.  There came now so many who "participated"; it was become the fashion, even among the noble ladies.  The paid or professionally prepared were preferable to him.  He had his experiences.

    "You want to go through your practical course with us?"

    "I had already begun it in the Pronitten hospital, together with Miss Hanna Teichgräber, when this morning the Pastor came and informed me that I would be summoned to Rodenburg, to the congregation hospital of St. Nikolai."

    "And your father?"

    "Could not be kept, gave himself up, and did not rest until one took him."

    "What is he?"

    "Train station commander in Malkaymen."

    "In Malkaymen.  There he is indeed in the middle of the area of operations."

    "It will probably be so; I still have no news of him."

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    And as if she didn't want to let a rising worry come up:  "Maybe you are right if I sign up with your sister immediately."

    When they stept into the great hall, they found Dr. Moll with Else taking care of a few of the newly arrived.  Hans saw immediately that neither would be available soon.  He led Edith to the various beds and familiarized her with the people and their conditions.

    He led her to Kurt Thomas, the seventeen-year-old ensign who had received a severe shot in the head right in the first battle, over whose childlike, pure face with the quietly beatific smile, the white bandage lay like a halo.  To Klaus Dieckert, the robust Lithanian, whom they had wounded in the right arm, and who, despite medical prohibition, had already taken up exercises with his left so that even with it he could serve his Fatherland.  To Justus Liepmann, the Jewish assistant from Soldau, who with the big, wistful eyes and the full, chestnut brown beard in the suffering, pace face let Baruch Spinoza or Uriel Akosta come to life.

    He also went in the single room with her.

    "Well, finally!" said Nickelmann, who, quickly spoiled by his nurses and fellow patients, had already expected his entrance with impatience and lay in his waterbed under the brown blanket with the same comfort as yester-day.

    When Edith saw the bald head with the strips of beard hanging down on the protruding lips, she could not suppress a smile.  But he lookt at her for a while with his small, dropping eyes, questioning.  "Well, what's that then?"

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he askt the priest then in his unabashed way.

    "A new nurse, Adam, who is come to take care of you and the other patients."

    But his words, in which a clear rebuke lay, appeared to make little impression.  Again, a questioning look, a slow shaking of the bald pate:  "Well, if she will do her job?"  Now Edith had to pull herself together in order not to laugh loudly.  "Do you have so little confidence in me, then?"

    The protruding lips curved; a short, gurgling tone came out from between them:  "Well, I mean one so... one so refined!"  And as if the matter began to be embarrassing for him, he turned to Hans again:  "I have read the book that the pastor gave me.  All well and good... very good even.  I just mean:  if dear God really holds His protecting hand over every good soldier, as it stands, then I wouldn't be lying here in this splash of water and the others wouldn't groan there in their beds.  But then the thing would stand wrong."

    "Of course, it is not meant like that, Adam, but rather:  no one is met by a bullet unless God has determined it."

    But Adam did not let himself be convinced so easily.  "hm, hm!"  And again he shook his head slowly, "the question is just this:  for whom does dear God determine it.  And for whom does He not determine it?  By which route do His troops march?  Does He look after the good ones?  Does He punish the evil doers?  Does he guide the bullet towards the head of the old man who has six children at home?  I have noticed nothing of it... absolutely nothing at all.  But I also do not understand it."

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    "No one understands it, Adam."

    "No, no, no one understands it.  But it was determined for me.  Hard.  Three at once.  Why?  God would know it!  I have always been an old sinner; that is the only thing that I know."

    "It is probably different:  God has the whole in mind:  the rescue of our Fatherland, and the individual whom the bullet meets is the sacrifice for the Fatherland.  Everything that is great and good is always achieved through sacrifice."

    "Good, then I am a sacrifice; I accept that; I have always told the others:  with the pastor, one can make himself understood.  If it is so, then I'll lie in the d----- splashing until the Lord God up there leads me onto dry ground again."

    And as if he had busied himself with such holy things for too long, he began in strong expressions to complain about the new attendant, who did not deal with him rightly and didn't hold him tightly enough.  And with him about his new bedfellow, who had only an arm and a chest shot and acted at least as if they had torn his head off.

    As they left the room, Edith askt about Fritz.

    "I know only that he is just come into the heaviest fire and is now in the middle of the battle."

    "He comes first among the brave ones.  Whether he returns home or falls, he would do either as a hero."

    Then Dr. Moll came up to them, and Else went to his side.

    With greater joy than even her brother had done, she greeted Edith.

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    "One could send me no one dearer!" she said and with quiet circumspection introduced the new helper into her work.

    Throughout the day there was much to do.  In the evening, however, when the measurements were taken, the mealtime administered, the patients bedded down, and the night guard settled, Else came home and brought Edith with.  She was dead tired; her eyes were already closing at dinner; before nine she went to sleep.  Edith on the other hand, whose strong body didn't feel tired in the least, still stayed together with Hans.  She was talkative, almost cheerful; he, however, quiet and withdrawn.

    "It's getting lively at the border," he said finally.  "Doctor Moll just told me; he heard it from a few newly arrived wounded.  The superiority is too great; despite all the brave resistance of our men, the enemy pushes forward."

    "He will not come far," Edith replied.

    In the same moment, they both came together.  Loudly and shrill rang a noise through the silence.

    "It is at the house door outside," said Hans, "hopefully Else will not be called away again."

    He went to open the door because the girl was already asleep.  In the dull, pallid light of the street lamp that fell from the opposite street corner in the village, he saw a middle-aged woman with a pale, emaciated face, a dark scarf wrapped over her head, under which her hair came out in disheveled strands.  Three children nestled into her timidly on both sides.

    "Only don't be angry, Pastor," she said with tear-choked voice, "but it all came so suddenly... I haven't taken enough money with... and the children... we were directed to your

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mercy... no one wanted to admit us into the guest house."

    "Who are you?  And where do you come from?"

    "I am the wife of the teacher Heinrich from Gumbinnen.  Our pastor pointed me to you."

    "From Gumbinnen? - And why-?"

    "We had to flee... along with many others.  My husband and the pastor remain... but we women and the other citizens..."

    The loud crying of the smallest of the children did not let her speak further.

    "Fleeing?" askt Hans.  "You?  And the others too?"

    Something heavy, faltering was in his speech.  As if it cost him an effort to make a connection between the words.

    "The battle rages around our city.  The enemy draws closer-"

    "Moving to Gumbinnen?"

    "But, Pastor, let the people up there come!  There are poor refugees from the border who are seeking a shelter.  Come, my little girl, give me your hand; no one will hurt you here!  Come along into the room, where it is already light, where you will no longer be afraid at all!"

    Edith had taken the little one by the hand and led her up the stairs.  "And your brother and sister also come with, and your dear mother.  And soon something warm will be brought to you all."

    The little one had calmed down; she followed the friendly guide with full faith; the two older children already began to recount what she experienced throughout the day.

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    "A nice cup of hot chocolate, what do you say to that?  You see, now you're already making a completely different face!"

    Hans likewise was come upstairs with the woman and let her tell about herself.  Now and then he glanced at Edith; an astonishment lay in his eyes.  He had never thought that she could deal with people in such a way, so friendly and so determined at the same time.

    Else was also there.  Edith was actually annoyed that she had gotten up; she had gladly allowed her the rest and had been able to do everything well by herself.  Now they were both quickly preparing the dinner for the refugees and setting up the room for them.  The chocolate tasted wonderful to the children, but they also ate to their hearts' content of the bread and butter that was served.  They were happy and now had no more objections about their fate, which appeared to them as a very agreeable change of their daily life.

    Else had gone back to bed; Hans stood at the window and lookt on the street.

    It was livelier than usual in this quiet hour.  Streams of people, mostly women and chile, but also a few men, went through it, remained standing here and there, askt about routes or houses, and then walkt farther.  Something helpless and restless was in them; some went silently, their heads bent to the ground; others speaking and moving lively and excitedly.  Now and then a child cried, like that small one just here in his hall... refugees, driven away from hearth and home, dragged through foreign streets in dark evening hours, looking for a place of mercy where they could lay their heads!

    His house was not the only one at which they stopped;

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he also saw them knock at others, and everywhere, one opened to them and received them warmly.

    Edith came.  The work was done; all were fed and put to bed.  He left his place at the window and sat down beside her.

    "Many more refugees are come," she said.

    "A sad sight, these poor people, how they wander now through the city, looking for a place for the night...  one is still not at all accustomed to these images," he added, in order to excuse his agitation from earlier, which had certainly not escaped her.

    "I fear we will still have to accustom ourselves to quite different things."

    He did not answer, but she felt that something was working in him.  "Certainly," he finally said, "we will still have to accustom ourselves to much.  And will bear and accept it as has been ordered us by God's will.  I will never grumble or resist it.  But these people here, who wander through night and fog, are a piece of the destroyed home.  And when I look at them, my heart bleeds."

    "One has said to me a word once," Edith replied," that I did not hold believable, that I have passed on to no one, but that I come across now and then, the last time even from such a one who appeared to be well in the know."

    "What was it?"

    "One would surrender East Prussia in a war with Russia."

    "Surrender!?" he cried, and his cheeks flushed hotly.  "Surrender our home, our East Prussia to the Russians, to the robbers!...  I will never believe that.  And you will not believe it either; you're not allowed to believe it!"

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    "No," she answered firmly and definitely, "I told you already:  I have absolutely rejected it and am still doing so now."

    He had stept back to the window and stared at the street and beyond it at the market over there.  "Still!  Homeless, miserable, desperate!" he said, more to himself than to her.  "Now where the war first began... already they come out of Gumbinnen!  How far is it from there to Reckenstein and Bärwalde - maybe thirty miles, not more.  And if they were also to take and scorch that!"

    "Then we must just bear it, too.  And must rebuild what is destroyed where there is peace."

    "We must bear it, too, quite certainly," he replied, having become calmer, "it cuts out every material casualty that we personally lose.  But the thought that one could surrender this wonderful country like loot-"

    "Do you see," she interrupted him, "out there at the border at this moment our soldiers are standing and defending their home until the last drop of blood.  Your brother Fritz is also among them; do you mean that his East Prussia, even only a span of its soil, will be surrendered?  He'd rather cover it with his body; I know that.  And if they must yield to brutal force, and the enemy still sets his foot on the beloved earth - for whom would it be more difficult to see, for us or for them?  No, nothing remains for us except silently to endure what is imposed upon us.  You are right; he who now still wanted to talk to us about a surrender assaulted these brave men and the good things."

    She had talked herself into a growing heat,

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and each of her words resounded deep in his soul.

    Time had advanced.  She wished him good night; but he still stayed up late; yet he would have found no rest.