The Road Back [antikvár]

PROLOGUE Wh That is still left of No. 2 Platoon is quartered in a stretch of battered trench behind the line, and most of them are dozing. "Funny sort of shell-" says Jupp suddenly. "What d'you mean?" asks Ferdinand Kosole, sitting up. "Use your earsl " answers Jupp. Kosole puts a hand to his ear and listens. We also listen into the darkness. But there is nothing audible beyond the dull rumour of gun-fire and the high piping of the shells. From the right sounds the rattle of machine-guns and now and then a cry. But all these we have known some years now; there is nothing in that to make a new song about. Kosole looks at Jupp suspiciously. "It's stopped now, of course," says Jupp, by way of defending himself. Kosole looks him over once more, appraisingly. Jupp remains unperturbed, so he turns away, muttering: "It's the rumble in your own hungry guts ; that's all your shells are. Best thing you can do is get an eyeful of sleep." He knocks up a sort of earthen headrest and stretches out, disposing himself cautiously so that his boots shall not slip down into the water. "God, and there's the missus and a bed for two at home!" he murmurs, his eyes already closed. "Somebody else is in it by now, I dare say," retorts Jupp out of his corner. Kosole opens one eye and gives him a hard look. For a moment it seems as if he meant to get up again. "Don't you be too funny, you poor fish!" And he is snoring already. Jupp signs to me to crawl over to him. I step across Adolf Bethke's legs and sit down beside him. With a sidelong glance at the snoring figure he says sourly: "The likes of that don't even know what education is." Jupp was a clerk in a solicitor's office in Cologne before 7