Life in a German Crack Regiment

"We have become a plebeian regiment."

Nobody knew who pronounced the word first, but at once the phrase passed from lip to lip – "We have become plebeian."

It was just as if a jug of cold water had been thrown into their faces, and indeed when at last they sat down to the table again and the music struck up a merry potpourri, they could not grasp, they could not take it in, this inevitable thing – that once more a "commoner" was in the regiment.

All their gay spirits had fled; indeed it appeared to the officers of the "Golden Butterflies" as if a quite new spirit had taken possession of the building. The festival had lost its splendour; it seemed as if the silver itself suddenly shone less brilliantly, as if the glass were less finely cut, and as if the hall no longer possessed the unique elegance that had hitherto distinguished it.

A painful silence reigned at the table, the "Golden Butterflies" did not venture to talk to their guests, for they knew they would be besieged by questions as to who and what this Winkler really was, where he came from, whatever could have caused His Majesty to transfer him from his frontier garrison town to this proud and distinguished regiment. It must have some signification. They did not venture even to look at their guests, for they knew that in the faces of the latter would stand clearly written: "You are no longer what you were; you cannot indeed help it that you have become plebeian, but the fact remains, and your position will be affected by this in the future."

If only the news that they were to receive a plebeian lieutenant had been communicated to them privately – but no, it had been announced publicly, in the presence of all the assembled guests, so that there was no possibility of denial or subterfuge. It was a direct slap in the face for them, and for the former officers, some of whom had come from a distance to be present at the dedication of the new buildings. And now into that new house a new element had been introduced. A commoner! Why had the regiment deserved it that the glory that had hitherto distinguished it should be removed? On the former occasion when a plebeian lieutenant had dwelt among them for a short time they had all suffered, and it was esteemed a special mark of the Emperor's favour that on the personally expressed wish of the officers he had been transferred to a line regiment. When they were again relieved of the stigma, each had sworn to live more zealously for the honour of the regiment so that a plebeian should not for a second time be received in their midst. Now this very thing had happened.

The Uhlan had regarded for a long time his neighbour who was looking gloomily in front of him; now he felt impelled to utter a sympathetic word, and everything that he felt in the depth of his heart he put into the remark, "What a pity! you were all so jolly in your regiment."

The officer of the "Golden Butterflies" shrugged his shoulders. What did these words mean but this: "The beginning has been made, other commoners will follow this one, and even if he does remain the only one, you will never be again what you once were."

The Uhlans were considered a frightfully exclusive regiment, and the "Golden Butterflies" had made the greatest efforts to maintain friendly and cordial relations with them. At last they had succeeded, and to-day the Uhlans almost to a man had appeared; the most aristocratic of regiments had been fêted with a costly dinner; and now, scarcely had the friendship been sealed when it was immediately threatened.

All breathed more freely when at last they rose from the table; the "Golden Butterflies" were most anxious to talk to each other, and learn something more of their new comrade. Somebody or other must know something about him; the fellow must have some sort of reputation – as much as was possible for a commoner, of course – otherwise His Majesty would not have interested himself on his behalf.

It was in this way that the men who had fallen into two groups – the guests, and the present and former officers – expressed their opinions; each had something to say as to his idea concerning the event.

The "Golden Butterflies" surrounded the adjutant of the regiment, Count Wettborn; he had become quite white, and was nervously fidgeting with the laces of his faultless patent-leather boots. After the colonel the matter concerned him most closely of all; he was often the representative and delegate of the officers, and now, was he to become a representative of a Winkler, he, a count? He was tall, of proud, imposing appearance; on his breast glittered as his latest decoration an order of the Fourth Class, which he had won as leader of the ball at court. For two years he had occupied this proud position; it was not only a great honour for him, but also for the whole regiment, and when he had stepped back into the rank he had been named adjutant, and all had heartily concurred in this promotion, deeming him the most worthy among them.

"But, count, do tell us, you must know something, who is this Winkler, then?"

Anxiously they all looked at the count; dead silence reigned, they scarcely dared to breathe.

"Gentlemen," at last said the adjutant, "whatever the colonel and I know we have just learnt from His Serene Highness. Old Winkler is a manufacturer."

They felt as if a stone had been rolled from their hearts. A manufacturer! It was not up to much, certainly, and not to be compared, of course, with the social position of a country gentleman or a chamberlain; but still, Krupp had been nothing more nor less than a manufacturer, and the German Emperor had called him his friend before the whole world. A load was taken from their hearts; but immediately they all saw that the count had still something on his mind, and that the question of being a manufacturer had some connection with it.

"And what does the fellow manufacture? Cannon or machines?"

"Neither – trouser buttons." If a flash of lightning had suddenly struck the officers they could not have started more quickly and with greater horror.

"Good heavens!" They looked around to see if any of the guests or the orderlies were close by, and then they crowded round the adjutant again.

Belitz, a very tall officer, was the first to recover himself; he was on very good terms with the adjutant, almost his friend indeed, and so he ventured to say, "Don't play any stupid jokes upon us, we are not in the mood for them, and such things should not be said in jest. Now do really tell us what the old fellow manufactures."

The count looked at the speaker calmly. "My dear fellow, I am not in the least in the mood for a joke, but I told you the fact. Old Winkler manufactures buttons, of course, wholesale. He has three large factories, and employs thousands of workmen, who are said to be splendidly looked after. For several years he has been on the Town Council, and for three he has been commercial adviser to the Emperor; quite lately he contributed a hundred thousand marks to a charitable institution which is under the special patronage of His Majesty, and he has also promised a contribution of twenty thousand marks for the next five years. He refused an important order that was offered him, and when he was asked in what way he could be thanked, he answered that it would be an intense pleasure to him if his only son might be transferred from a frontier garrison town to Berlin, so that he could see him more frequently. His wish could not be refused, and so his son has come to us."

After a slight pause, during which the deepest stillness reigned, the adjutant continued: "The transference of Lieutenant Winkler to our regiment is at the personal request of His Majesty. It behoves us, therefore, not to criticise His Majesty's commands. I beg you to remember this, and to restrain any expressions of opinion."

It was perfectly clear and unmistakable that the adjutant spoke in the name, and at the request of the colonel, and silently one after another retired.

But the silence was far more expressive than words. Dejectedly the "Golden Butterflies" walked about; they had not the spirit to ask their guests to remain when, much earlier than usual, the latter prepared to depart. It was a matter of complete indifference whether they stayed an hour longer or not; the spirit of the thing had vanished; the festivity was ruined. The rooms were soon empty, one after another departed, only the "Golden Butterflies" remained. And they, when at last they were quite alone, asked themselves again, "Why have we deserved this?"

In one corner of the room, all huddled up on a sofa, sat young Willberg, the darling and favourite of all, a young lieutenant of six-and-twenty, whose father had been in the regiment and had won the Iron Cross of the First Class on that memorable day. Young Willberg had evidently indulged somewhat freely in wine; he was in a state of abject misery, and wept and sobbed like a child.

"Willberg, whatever is the matter?" his comrades asked him sympathetically, as they came nearer him.

He raised his face which was usually fresh and youthful-looking, but now the glittering tears ran down his cheeks, and in a heart-breaking tone of voice he sobbed out: "My regiment, my beloved regiment."

Not a single one of those who stood around him could offer him a word of consolation – they were all as mournful as death.

CHAPTER II

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.