Эрих Ремарк - All Quiet on the Western Front / На Западном фронте без перемен. Книга для чтения на английском языке

‘Dead right. [122] Dead right (разг.) – Точно You’ve got it in one. [123] You’ve got it in one (прост.) – В яблочко ’

‘Then there’d be women around again, wouldn’t there?’ Haie licks his lips.

‘That as well.’

‘Christ almighty,’ says Haie, and his expression softens, ‘the first thing I’d do is pick myself up some strapping great bint [124] strapping great bint (прост.) – крепкая бабенка , know what I mean, some big, bouncy kitchen wench [125] bouncy kitchen wench – задорная кухарка with plenty to get your hands round [126] with plenty to get your hands round – чтоб было за что подержаться , then straight into bed and no messing! Think about it! Proper feather-beds with sprung mattresses. I tell you, lads, I wouldn’t put my trousers back on for a week!’

Silence all round. The image is just too fantastic. It sends tremors right across the skin. Eventually Muller gets a grip and asks, ‘And what about after that?’

A pause. Then Haie goes on, a little hesitantly, ‘If I was an NCO I’d stay in the army and sign on as a regular.’

‘Haie, you’re barmy,’ I say.

But he answers me amiably with another question. ‘Have you ever tried peat-digging? Have a go sometime.’ With that he pulls his spoon out of the top of his high boot and digs into Albert’s mess-tin.

‘It can’t be worse than digging trenches in France,’ I reply.

Haie chews and grins. ‘Lasts longer, though. And you can’t skive off.’

‘Come on, Haie, it must be better at home.’

‘Sometimes, sometimes,’ he says, and sinks into a kind of reverie, sitting there with his mouth open.

You can read in his face what he is thinking. A run-down shack on the moors, hard work on the hot heathlands from early in the morning until late at night, lousy pay, the dirty clothes a labourer wears

‘In the peacetime army you don’t have to worry about anything,’ he tells us. ‘You get your grub every day, and if you don’t you kick up a fuss [127] kick up a fuss (прост.) – поднять кипиш , you’ve got your bed, clean sheets every week just like a toff, you do your bit of duty when you’re an NCO, you get all your gear – and in the evening you’re a free man and you can go for a drink.’

Haie is extraordinarily proud of his idea. He falls in love with it. ‘And when you’ve served your twelve years they give you your discharge settlement [128] discharge settlement – пенсионная выплата , and you get to be a country copper. Then you’re just out and about all day.’

This future brings him out in a sweat. ‘Just think about how they treat you then! A brandy here, a beer there – everyone wants to be on good terms with the local copper.’

‘You’ll never make it to NCO,’ throws in Kat.

Haie gives him a hurt look, and shuts up. In his mind he’s probably already enjoying the clear autumn evenings, the Sundays on the heath, the village church bells, afternoons and evenings with the girls, the buckwheat pancakes with bacon, the hours of aimless conversation in the bar —

He can’t cope with so much imagining all at once; so he just snarls angrily, ‘You and your bloody stupid questions.’

He slips his shirt down over his head and does up his battle-dress tunic.

‘What would you do, Tjaden?’ Kropp calls across to him.

Tjaden has only one thing in mind. ‘Make sure that Himmelstoss doesn’t get away.’

Probably what he would like best is to keep him in a cage and set about him with a cudgel every morning. He urges Kropp with great enthusiasm, ‘If I were you I’d make sure I got to be a lieutenant. Then you could make him run like his arse was on fire.’

‘What about you, Detering?’ Muller continues. He’s a proper schoolmaster with these questions round the class.

Detering is the silent type. But this time he does have an answer. He stares up at the sky and utters a single sentence. ‘I’d just get home in time for the harvest.’

With that he gets up and walks away.

He is worried. His wife has to look after his smallholding. Besides that, two of his horses have been taken from him. Every day he looks in the local papers that are sent to him to see whether the rain has started yet in his little corner of Oldenburg. If it has, they won’t be able to get the hay in.

Just at this moment, Himmelstoss appears. He comes straight for our group. Tjaden’s face goes blotchy. He stretches out in the grass and shuts his eyes because he is so worked up.

Himmelstoss wavers and slows down. Then he marches towards us. Nobody makes any move to stand up. Kropp looks at him with interest.

He stands right in front of us and waits. When nobody says a word, he comes out with a ‘Well?’

A few moments pass; Himmelstoss clearly has no idea how he should behave. What he would most like to do is bawl us out good and proper [129] bawl us out good and proper (разг.) – разделать нас под орех ; but for all that, he does seem to have learnt already that the front is no parade-ground. He tries again, and instead of addressing us all he picks on one of us, in the hope of getting an answer more easily. Kropp is nearest to him, and so he gets the honour. ‘Well, well, you here too?’

But Albert is no friend of his. He gives the sharp retort, ‘I reckon I’ve been here a bit longer than you have.’

The gingery moustache twitches. ‘I suppose you lot don’t remember me, then?’

Tjaden opens his eyes. ‘Oh yes, we do.’

Himmelstoss turns to him. ‘Tjaden, isn’t it?’

Tjaden lifts his head. ‘And do you know what you are, chum?’ Himmelstoss is taken aback. ‘What do you mean, “chum”? I don’t think we’ve ever drunk ourselves into the gutter together.’ He has absolutely no idea of how to cope with the situation. He wasn’t expecting this open aggression. But for the moment he is cautious. Someone has clearly fed him that nonsense about NCOs getting shot in the back.

Tjaden has been made so angry by the crack about the gutter that he becomes positively sharp. ‘No, you were in the gutter all by yourself, pal.’

By now Himmelstoss is seething with rage as well, but Tjaden rushes to get in before him. He has to say his piece. ‘You want to know what you are, chum? You’re a shit, that’s what you are! I’ve wanted to tell you that for a long time.’

The satisfaction that comes from months of waiting is shining in his piggy eyes when he comes out with the word ‘shit’.

Himmelstoss lets fly too. ‘What do you mean, you miserable little sod, you filthy bloody peasant? Stand up and stand to attention when a superior officer is speaking to you.’

Tjaden gives a gracious wave of his hand. ‘You may stand easy, Himmelstoss. Dismiss! [130] You may stand easy, Himmelstoss. Dismiss! – Вольно, Химмельштос. Разойдись! ’

Himmelstoss turns into a raging mass of drill regulations. The Kaiser himself couldn’t be more insulted. ‘Tjaden!’ he screams. ‘This is an order! Stand up!’

‘Anything else you’d like?’ asks Tjaden.

‘Are you going to carry out my order or not?’

Tjaden gives an unworried and conclusive reply, quoting (although he doesn’t know he’s doing so) one of Goethe’s best-known lines, the one about kissing a specific part of his anatomy. At the same time he sticks his backside up in the air [131] sticks his backside up in the air – оголяет свой зад .

Himmelstoss storms away. ‘You’ll be court martialled for this! [132] You’ll be court martialled for this! – Вы пойдете под трибунал за это! ’ We watch him disappear in the direction of the orderly room. Haie and Tjaden collapse in a great peat-diggers’ roar. Haie laughs so much that he puts his lower jaw out of joint, and suddenly stands there helplessly with his mouth open. Albert has to punch it, to get him back to normal.