"Such nonsense!" he went on. "Of course, at the back of our minds the
horror of it is always present. But what else can you do? Standing in
blood up to your throat, and knowing that you have to protect your men,
to protect yourself. * * * And what difference does it make to them
whether you shoot them or throttle them? * * * About a hundred paces
from those three sentinels there were at least a hundred others, and
two hundred yards off were the Austrian trenches. The least noise,
a groan, the stifled cry of a wounded Austrian would be the end of
everything for my scouts; and there were only thirty of us. That was
when I gave the order not to leave any wounded alive. * * *"
It was an evident relief to him to be interrupted.
"Oh, yes, I remember!" said one of us. "I was in camp when the
Austrian officer, routed out in his sleep, was brought in on the run in
his nightshirt. The whole thing went rapidly and well, and you took a
machine gun from the Austrians!"
Another of us said:
"I don't see what you are driving at! There's no analogy at all! What
you did was no hitting of those who were down already. All sorts of
conventions and international law would justify you!"
"Well," answered the Junior Subaltern, "did I not say that there was
such a thing as justifiable killing of the wounded, for us as for the
Germans? Besides, I got decorated for the job! Ouch! It is going to
thaw! I know, because my wounded leg aches!"
His smile was so frank and his face so full of the bloom of youth
as he thus changed the subject that it was quite evident that he
did not change it from any false modesty, but simply because the
subject--including his own distinguished part in it--had no further
interest for him.
"You have been wounded?"
"Yes. Two bullets in my leg, one in my arm, one in the abdomen."
"And you are still alive?"
"As you see! It was that devilish machine gun! The bullet that entered
my abdomen cut through the intestines, touched my stomach, and came out
by my back. When I regained consciousness I heard the doctor saying:
'Put this one aside; he will die in a minute or two!' And some of my
men dug a nice grave for me and wrote my name and the date on a board,
and sat down patiently to wait for my funeral. But I didn't die. So the
surgeon had to send me to hospital. But when the ambulance was starting
I heard him say: 'It's not a bit of use! He'll die on the way there!'
But I cheated the doctors. I'm quite a rare specimen!"
"You are indeed!" And we all laughed, so contagious was Lieutenant X.'s
laughter.
"The Medical Council," he went on, "explained it by the fact that, for
two whole days previously, I had had nothing to eat. * * * hadn't had
time! It was on the Stripa. The moment our regiment arrived at ---- we
had to fight."