INTRODUCED TO THE REGIMENT
"TO-DAY at twelve o'clock I desire to speak with the officers in
undress uniform."
The colonel's command was communicated to all the officers, and now,
full of expectation, they were standing outside the mess-room. To the
questions: "What's the matter with the old fellow now? Has anyone got
cleaned out?" the answer was immediately given: "Winkler came to-day
and is to be introduced to us all."
And this universal answer was followed on each occasion by a
universal "Ah"--an expression of the deepest commiseration and the
greatest disappointment. Winkler had really come? How many ardent
prayers had not been raised to heaven that he would _not_ come! And
in his innermost heart each man had still hoped that the order of
exchange would be recalled. His Majesty had heard privately, through
inquiries of an adjutant, what they thought about this new comrade;
they had not concealed their views, but instead of the hoped-for
order of recall, the adjutant had one day reappeared, and had quite
casually, and in the way of conversation, yet in spite of that,
with an official air, given them to understand that His Majesty was
very vexed at what he had heard of the officers' views concerning
Lieutenant Winkler. His Majesty had expressed his sincerest hope
that the regiment would receive their new member with open arms. The
adjutant's words had not failed to have effect; not that the officers
suddenly changed their views, but they took care not to say what they
thought in his presence any more.
Now Winkler had really come. "What does he look like?" "What sort of
an impression does he make?" "Has anyone spoken to him?"
There was a torrent of questions. Suddenly it struck twelve, and to
the minute the colonel appeared with his adjutant and Lieutenant
Winkler.
The first lieutenant motioned the officers to their places, and the
colonel immediately began:
"Gentlemen, I have requested you to meet me in order to introduce to
you our new comrade, Lieutenant Winkler. Allow me to introduce you,
Lieutenant Winkler."
Lieutenant Winkler stepped forward and saluted in a friendly way; he
stood there erect and courteous, a man of medium size, slim, yet
strong. He was a very well developed man, and the becoming uniform
of the "Golden Butterflies," with its rich gold embroidery, suited
him excellently; on his young and fresh-looking countenance--he was
twenty-seven years of age--with its thick, light moustache, and in
his clear, blue eyes, was written energy and independence. Many of
the officers there present could scarcely conceal a certain unrest
and embarrassment. Winkler's face alone remained absolutely cool.
The "Golden Butterflies" examined their new comrade with searching
eyes, just as if they were examining a horse that had been led before
them. They cast a glance at his figure, at his legs, looked him over
to see if he would do well at a parade march, and whether his outward
appearance was equal to the demands which were made on a member of
so important a regiment. According as they were satisfied with their
examination, they put their hands more or less cordially, or in some
cases only a finger, to their caps.
"Lieutenant Winkler," continued the colonel, "a very great honour
has been paid you; at the direct request of His Majesty you have
been made a member of a regiment which can look back on a glorious
past, and whose officers have always been distinguished for the
purity of their character, the gallantry of their spirit and their
honourable lives, both as soldiers and gentlemen. You come among us
from a different garrison, from totally different surroundings. You
have been bred and reared in circumstances where people do not hold
the same views as we do. It must be your first endeavour to become,
in the truest sense of the word, one of us, for the uniform does
not make the man, it is the spirit which puts the seal on him. And
the financial material circumstances of a man are not without their
influence on the _esprit de corps_ of a regiment. You, Lieutenant
Winkler, probably have the disposal of an allowance which is so large
that it bears no relation to the small amounts which most of my
officers have to do with. You, sir, have grown up in a circle where
money plays the most important part, where, to a certain extent, the
honour in which a man is held depends upon the size of his banking
account. But our great pride is that, with our small means, or rather
I should say, in spite of our small means, we remain what we are. In
course of time you will see for yourself how many of your comrades
are obliged to stint themselves merely to make both ends meet, and
how they are obliged to deprive themselves of all kinds of things in
order to maintain a dignified appearance. Although I am delighted to
hear that, while you were living in a small garrison town, you were
economical and eschewed all luxuries, now that you are transferred to
Berlin I must beg you most earnestly, and warn you most emphatically,
to resist the various temptations that will assail you here. Keep
to the modest mode of life, and do not fall into the fault, so easy
to youth, of boasting of your riches and wealth, and of playing for
large stakes with your comrades. If you attend to my admonition, then
a friendly and cordial relationship will grow up between you and
these gentlemen, to whom you are now a stranger." And, turning to the
adjutant, he continued: "Count, I beg you to introduce Lieutenant
Winkler now to the individual officers."
The introductions were made strictly according to etiquette,
beginning with the lieutenant-colonel and ending with the youngest
lieutenant.
It was only when the names of the lieutenants were read out that
there was any sign of life in Winkler's bearing. During the colonel's
long speech, and while the names of his superior officers were being
read, he stood immovable, his hand in the attitude of salute--and
everyone had to admit that he stood well--without moving or swerving.
His face was so well under control that not a muscle moved, and not
a line on his countenance betrayed what he felt at the colonel's
remarks. When the names of the lieutenants were given--he saluted the
first lieutenants as his superiors--his bearing relaxed somewhat,
and he returned the salutes of his comrades cordially. And he saluted
well--everybody had to admit that likewise.
At last he was able to release his hand, and stand at ease once more;
his arm was almost numb and the muscles of his legs trembled and
smarted, but by no sign did he betray this.
"Lieutenant Winkler is placed in the second battalion, fifth company."
All glances were directed towards the captain of the fifth company,
Baron von Warnow; he was considered the most important officer
in the regiment; he was of very ancient descent, which he could
trace back to the Emperor Barbarossa, in whose campaigns a Warnow
had distinguished himself. He was married to a Countess Mäilny,
had a very large fortune, and his house was considered the most
aristocratic in Berlin. Whenever it was a question of representing
the regiment, or of sending a deputation anywhere, it was Baron
von Warnow who was always nominated. On account of his birth and
his connection with the most important families in the country he
was pre-eminently fitted for such appointments. And he was just
as distinguished in his military career as in his private life.
He permitted no swearing or bad behaviour among his officers. He
attempted, as his comrades laughingly said, to make a gentleman
of every musketeer, and in his first lieutenant, Baron von Felsen,
he had an excellent assistant. For the last fortnight he had only
had one officer attached to his company, for a short time ago his
lieutenant had been thrown while riding and had broken his arm.
It would be at least a month before he could be on active service
again, but it had never occurred to him that another officer would be
assigned to him.
And now he was to have Lieutenant Winkler in his company--he, Baron
von Warnow!
He could scarcely conceal his annoyance; his thick brows contracted,
and he was about to mutter something in a rage when he met Winkler's
glance. The latter, when he heard his captain's name, looked round
to see which among the many to whom he had been introduced was Baron
von Warnow. When he saw the latter's disappointed and almost furious
countenance, he knew at once that that was the Baron! He fixed his
eyes upon him almost as if he was saying: "What harm have I done
you?" Perhaps his face became a shade paler, but his voice had its
quiet, steady tone when he stepped up to his superior officer and
saluted him.
Baron von Warnow returned the salute by a bare finger, then he said:
"It would have been more in order if you had, first of all, saluted
your major."
Winkler flushed red, then he repaired the omission and stepped up
to Baron von Masemann, his superior lieutenant, in order to get to
know him a little better as they were to be in the same company. He
took his friendliness as a matter of course, but he merely received a
curt, "I am much obliged to you."
The colonel conversed with the staff officers; the other officers
chattered in various groups. Winkler stood quite alone, nobody
troubled about him, and he breathed more freely when the colonel at
last dismissed the officers.
As Winkler was turning to go, his captain, who was talking to
the first lieutenant, called to him: "One moment, if you please,
Lieutenant Winkler," and after a little pause continued: "I do not
know, Lieutenant Winkler, whether you are already aware of the fact,
otherwise I had better tell you at once, that a thoroughly good and
healthy tone is maintained in my company; I must therefore beg you to
avoid all cursing and swearing, my men are accustomed to be treated
as decent persons. It is a very great honour for you to be in my
company, and it is to be hoped that you will strive to maintain it
worthily." And turning to his first lieutenant he continued: "My
dear baron, if at first Lieutenant Winkler does not find it easy to
maintain the right tone, you will be kind enough to help him."
The first lieutenant acquiesced with a salute, then the captain
turned again to Winkler: "We shall see each other again to-morrow on
duty; kindly give the sergeant-major your address, so that we may
know where to send the orders."
"Certainly, sir."
"Then there is nothing more for me to say. I am obliged to you for
coming, gentlemen."
The two lieutenants turned to go, and silently they walked together
over the great courtyard. It was not till they had passed the door of
the mess-room that the baron said: "We do not dine till six o'clock;
will you join us in the mess-room for lunch?"
But Winkler declined. "I must go and report myself to the superior
authorities, and, besides, I have still a good deal to do."
The other did not press him further, and so with a few words they
took leave of one another.
Winkler called a fly; it was nearly three o'clock when he at last
reached the hotel in which he had taken rooms for the time being.
"Have any letters come for me?" he inquired. He had had no news
from home for three days; he had telegraphed to his parents that he
would be in Berlin to-day, and he hoped to receive a warm letter of
greeting from them.
The porter looked through the letters.
"Nothing has come for you, sir."
Winkler could scarcely conceal his disappointment. Just to-day when
he felt so terribly solitary and alone a kindly letter from his
parents would have been so very welcome. He had been quite prepared
for not being warmly welcomed by his new regiment, but he had not had
the faintest idea that the officers would have received him with such
coldness and such aversion.
"The key is in the room upstairs, sir."
With a troubled air he went upstairs. To his astonishment the door
of the sitting-room was not locked, and when he opened it and walked
into the rooms he was greeted with a loud, hearty laugh.
"Ha! ha! George, my boy, here's a surprise for you, isn't it? I told
the porter I'd wring his neck if he told you of my arrival; for two
hours I've been sitting here and waiting for you. Now, thank heaven,
you're here at last. And how fine you look, my boy, your mother would
burst with pride if she could see you now. Of course, the first thing
you'll do is to go and be photographed."
And with justifiable paternal pride and the keenest delight the
manufacturer to His Majesty embraced his son.
When George had at last freed himself, he said:
"Father, this is indeed a surprise. However did you get here?"
The old man, about sixty years of age, of medium height and strongly
built, with a broad ruddy face, large grey eyes and thick bushy
brows, whose appearance all betokened iron will and energy and great
self-confidence, looked at his son with a satisfied glance. "Do you
know your father so little, that you thought he would let you be here
alone to-day? I wanted to help you to find rooms, but above all I
wanted to hear how things were going with you, and to hear everything
that people had said to you to-day. Now begin and tell me everything."
George had taken off his helmet and scarf, and changed his military
coat for a comfortable loose jacket; then he took one of the cigars
which his father offered him, and sank down into a chair.
"Now, my boy, do begin and tell me everything; surely you can talk
while you're changing your things. I know you always say, 'One thing
at a time,' but I say one can do several things at the same time. Do
you think I should have succeeded so well if I had done otherwise?
Why, to-day, I had my lunch standing, with my left hand I ate, and
with my right I wrote several notes, and at the same time I gave my
clerks all kinds of orders and commissions. So now, fire away."
With an expectant expression the manufacturer looked at his son
who still remained silent, but at last he said: "Father, it's all
happened as I told you it would when you said you had asked for me to
be exchanged. It all happened precisely as I said it would, only it
was ever so much worse."
The old man got up and looked at his son with wide-open eyes. "Do you
mean to say----"
"I mean to say," continued his son, "that they received me in the
regiment in such a manner as might have made me not only blush with
shame but burn with rage and anger, as in fact I did inwardly. I was,
however, able to control the expression of my feelings, as I always
can. They treated me to a long discourse, they exhorted me to do my
duty, and they kept on rubbing it into me that it was a tremendous
honour to belong to their regiment."
"It certainly is that," his father agreed. "You should have seen
how people opened their eyes when I told all our friends and
acquaintances that I had been able to get you transferred to the
'Golden Butterflies.' In fact they would not believe it until they
saw it in black and white. I assure you, my boy, it's not been an
easy matter and it's an expensive luxury. Two hundred thousand marks
is not a small sum; but I don't grudge the money."
"But, as far as I am concerned, I not only believe--I am
convinced--it's money badly laid out. When you wrote to me first of
all that you were interesting yourself about my exchange, did I
not beg you, as urgently as I could, not to continue your efforts?
You laughed at me, and wrote, 'The "Golden Butterflies" will soon
know what sort of a man they have in the son of the manufacturer by
special appointment to His Majesty, and if they do not know they will
soon have to learn it.'"
"And they will learn it, my son, I assure you."
George shook his head. "They will never do that, father, for they
will never take the trouble to get to know me. They regard me as an
interloper, a stranger. Even to-day I am quite sure that they are
only waiting for the moment when they will be able to get rid of me
decently. They will watch me closely, they will weigh carefully all
that I say, everything I do, until at last they can find some ground
for saying to me, 'My dear sir, you are not the right man for such a
regiment as ours.' And one fine morning I shall find myself again in
a little garrison town."
The old man burst forth--"Oh, oh, we've not got as far as that yet,
and before that happens I shall have a word to say, I can tell you. I
stand well in the Emperor's favour, and at the appointed hour I shall
know how to open my mouth."
George shrugged his shoulders. "Then it will be too late and of no
use, and, besides, you would not like the officers to be forced to
keep me against their will. I have suffered enough already in coming
here contrary to their wishes, or do you suppose that I should not
bitterly resent it that not one single word of welcome was given me,
not a single hand was stretched out to me in greeting."
The veins stood out on the old man's forehead. "What do these
stuck-up aristocrats mean? What do they pride themselves upon? Simply
because they were by chance cradled in an aristocratic family. Is it
any merit to them that they have a count or a baron for a father?
I can't help laughing at them! If that is all that they can pride
themselves upon, then I am, indeed, truly sorry for these stuck-up
aristocrats. To be born the son of a noble is surely no merit; but
to be, as I am, the son of an inferior official who, through his own
energy and diligence, has worked his way up and reached an important
position, that, indeed, is a thing to be proud of. And if these
people do not understand that, it must be because they will not or
cannot, because they are so pig-headed and stupid."
The manufacturer had jumped up, and was striding up and down the room
in a rage. George understood his father and knew that when he was
in that mood he must give free vent to his fury, and must regain
his composure before he was accessible to anybody's reasons. So he
quietly let the old man rage, until at last, with a mighty curse, he
sank into a chair again.
"Well," he said, "I am all right again now. I can't help thinking, my
boy, you look at things in too black a light. One can't altogether
blame these fellows for regarding you to a certain extent as an
outsider, and if one takes a rational view of things it is quite
understandable, that they did not receive you with outstretched
arms. These officers do not know you; they know absolutely nothing
about you except that you are the son of your father, and as I have
not been born with a coronet on my head that's not enough for them.
They must, and they will, get to know you yourself. When I consider
the matter quietly, and I am in a sober frame of mind now, I must
confess that the reception you had is not altogether displeasing to
me. Lieutenants are not like schoolgirls who swear eternal friendship
in the first five minutes. Why should the 'Golden Butterflies' be
beside themselves with joy at the sight of you? Simply because you're
a handsome fellow? No, no, my boy. It rests with you to make your own
position in the regiment, and that you will make it I am perfectly
certain."
"At least I will try, father, and it shall not be my fault if I do
not succeed."
"Why ever should you not succeed? Don't begin in that spirit. Hold
your head high. Look courageously into the future. Whatever a man
bestirs himself eagerly to get can be got--and there's no more to be
said."
George acquiesced. "Yes, let us drop the subject; the future alone
can decide which of us is right. But there is one thing I should
very much like to know, and you did not answer that question in your
letters--wasn't it my mother's idea to get me transferred from a line
regiment to the Guards?"
The manufacturer laughed complacently. "Well, if you really must know
you're right, my boy, in your surmise. You know your mother--she's
a treasure, but she would not be a woman if the money, title, and
position which men sing of did not turn her head a little. We live
in good style nowadays, partly on account of your sister Elsa. We
entertain a great deal, and sometimes it was not very pleasant for
your mother when she was asked where you were, to have to admit that
you were stationed in some miserable little place with a second-rate
regiment. Of course, no one actually said anything, but your mother
read quite clearly in their faces--'You see there are still some
doors that money will not open.' That naturally vexed and annoyed
your mother and wounded her vanity; she has only one son you must
remember, and in her opinion the best is not good enough for him.
She dinned this so constantly in my ears that at last I did what she
wanted."
"That is just exactly what I thought," said George. "I can see my
mother doing this, how she coaxed you--I know every word that she
said. Well, she certainly meant it for my benefit, and now I do hope
she is very happy."
The manufacturer burst out laughing. "Happy, my boy? I tell you no
words can express the happiness she feels now. She is always dressed
nowadays in the best silk dress which was formerly reserved for the
grandest occasions."
George could not help laughing, and they went on talking about the
mother and sister, who was devotedly loved by her brother, of the
home and the factory, until the hour struck, and George remembered
that it was high time for him to be going to dinner.
The manufacturer made a wry face. "Can't we dine together? I thought
that in honour of this day we might have ordered at a first-class
restaurant a dinner which would have aroused the envy of the immortal
gods."
"To-day that is quite impossible, father; on the very first day I
must under no circumstances be absent from the mess dinner; perhaps
to-morrow I may be free."
The old man growled with vexation. "To-morrow is not to-day; however,
it can't be helped." And then after a short pause he said: "Can I not
dine with you in the mess-room? I thought perhaps I ought to call on
your immediate superiors, or, at any rate, upon your colonel."
George was somewhat embarrassed. He was a good son, was proud of his
father and greatly loved him, and just because of this he wanted to
prevent people seeing anything odd in his manners at dinner; above
all he was anxious that his companions should have no occasion to
make remarks about anything in his behaviour that displeased them.
Besides, he was afraid that his father, whose passionate, quick
temper he was only too well aware of, might lose his self-control and
make unflattering remarks which could only harm them both. So he said
hesitatingly; "I'm afraid that would scarcely do, father; it is an
old custom in the army that on the first time an officer dines with
his new comrades he is invited by them as a guest, and as such he
naturally cannot bring a guest with him."
The old man understood this more easily than George had dared to
hope. "Very well, then, I must drink my Rhine wine by myself; we
shall see each other again before we go to bed, and then you must
tell me everything that happened."
But when George returned about ten o'clock he had nothing much to
relate, at least nothing very pleasant. The dinner had been all
right; they had, of course, drunk his health, but that was all; the
officers' quarters were splendid, and George gave a long account of
these until his father at last said "Good-night" to him.
George went up to his room, but he lay awake a long time, and thought
over what he had not related to his father. The oldest officer at
dinner had bade him welcome briefly, but the words had sounded cold,
and George said to himself that he only spoke because he was obliged
to, and there was no heartiness in his words. The speech was followed
by a cheer, glasses were clinked, and then the affair was over. No
one had given him an invitation.
"Why did I not remain where I was? What's going to happen in the
future?"
This question kept him awake a long time, and when at last he
fell asleep he saw his mother's glad eyes beaming with joy at the
distinction which had been given to her son.