H. Adler - Panorama

Josef walks on again, the path getting tougher as he approaches a section where the work has not progressed very far, to the right the landscape falling off much more steeply than before, though the rush of the creek cannot be heard because it is drowned out by the thunderous noise that disturbs the peace of the wounded forest landscape, the cliffs shattered by jackhammers, the workers sweating and straining, having to pause again and again as the ringing and pounding steel hammer shakes them from head to toe. Josef is told by one of the many workers that Master Chudoba is in charge here. The route is uneven, it moves slowly forward, a light train moving toward Josef with full cars, a dumping site nearby where the rubble and earth are emptied out, after which it climbs to a position where most of Chudoba’s workers are located, as they work at loosening stones with pickaxes, other men standing nearby who then shovel the rubble into the train cars. Josef goes on ahead, the forest stretching out from the rail bed, to the left fields and meadows opening up, to the right the glittering creek, while farther on is the village called Najdek, the rails of the light train suddenly coming to an end, the rail bed ending as well, which must be the end of the cliff cut, the terrain also sinking farther, though Rybák had indeed said that where Josef should head to is a new segment, which must mean the dump below, where there also appear to be workers who are working on a ditch that bores through deeply cut terrain that would be best bridged over, the workers perhaps preparing the first pylons. Josef heads down to them, though there is no path, just noticeable footsteps in the soil, it taking some effort to reach the ditch, which is traversed by two loose planks, someone telling him that the building of the bridge is led by Master Vodil, Josef told that wood is being gathered here when he asks what all the supplies are for, though he doesn’t need to be told what the powerful concrete mixer is for, yet no one tells him what is really going on, and so he simply asks where he can find Herr Sláma, someone instructing him to follow the path down the incline as if he were heading to Najdek, but before he reaches it he must turn left and climb up the embankment that has no path, and there he’ll find Sláma.

Josef walks on in the direction he was told and soon reaches the embankment, someone asking from above where he is heading and whether he is looking for Sláma. Yes, he’s looking for Herr Sláma. That’s good, says the voice, he should head up, for it’s Sláma himself. Josef quickly climbs up to the spot where some have already gathered, having sat themselves down comfortably as if they were there to enjoy the view, it being quite beautiful from here, the edge of the village of Najdek lying to the left, a village much smaller than Wirschenowitz, the little village stretching out toward the creek, a hill rising directly from the other shore, while to the right the vale that will soon be bridged descends, with the hill behind and from which Josef just came, though he has no time to look around any further, for he has to greet Herr Sláma, who is already waiting, as Josef hands him the card, at which the foreman formally introduces himself as Florian Sláma, the name Florian resulting from his having been born at night, there having been a fire in Pechno and the mother thinking that one shouldn’t spend too much time thinking about a name, the fire a sign of which patron saint to select for the child. Josef is surprised by Sláma’s talk, and indeed the foreman quickly throws a glance at his worker’s card and says that Josef is a common name in his family, his father was called Josef, which is why his oldest son is also named that, after which he says that Josef will enjoy working for him, Sláma thinking that for people like Josef things will get better with time, one can see that he is a studious man, perhaps a professor or a teacher, it not only being a shame but also an accursed waste of talent to send a doctor to work on a railroad. At this Josef says that he doesn’t really think it’s all that bad. Sláma insists that it’s a shame, even a sin, that it can come to no good, each man needing to be allowed to work according to what God and his talent have readied him for. Josef doesn’t press the matter, he doesn’t want to insist on anything, though Sláma doesn’t back off and bemoans the fact that a doctor should be put to work digging here, after which he asks him what kind of doctor he is, for Frau Sláma is not well, she has often gone to the doctor in Sobolec, though he can do nothing for her, she has such back pain, the doctor saying that it’s rheumatism, as he writes a prescription, yet the salve doesn’t help, but maybe it will be better if Josef could have a look at her. Josef explains that he’s not a medical doctor, even if he is a doctor. For Sláma a doctor is a doctor, an educated man understands health, and he has been awarded the title of doctor, at which Sláma says again what a shame it is how people are treated these days, just because they are Jews or doctors, things had been fine before, everyone living in peace, each having enough to eat and drink, even being able to save a bit, but now that’s all over with, since he has taken over the country, Sláma not saying his name, though he has done nothing for Bohemia, the people have nothing, he gives the people no bread, but instead takes their bread away, injustice never leads to good, for now he’s at war with the entire world, though he won’t manage to get England, and then there’s Russia, we’ll see, Sláma being a simple man who doesn’t understand as much about politics as the mighty masters, though he doesn’t believe a word of what is written in the newspapers, for certainly he will never be able to handle the Americans.

Sláma interrupts his lecture, because on the path below he sees another new arrival, whom he calls to just as he did to Josef, asking just as quickly what he wants. Then Sláma says that they have to get to work soon, though there’s still time, he’s waiting until the entire party is gathered together, so Josef should sit down with the others. And so Josef sits down on the grass and observes Florian Sláma as he speaks with the broad accent of these parts and stands with his feet spread wide, it being funny how the little man is nonetheless wrapped in the great warmth of a much too large, thick dark suit, as if he were dressed for an important event, his hair still dark, though the goatee is silver-gray, the combination of his somewhat dour frown and roguish, twinkling eyes hard to reconcile, he seeming quite friendly one minute and quite different the next, as he continues to smoke a stubby pipe and spits often as he does. There is hardly a word spoken by Josef’s colleagues on the grass, and he himself is quiet, soon stretching out comfortably and closing his eyes, the sun warming him pleasantly, he almost feeling as if he’s on a comfy summer trip, Sláma now quiet as well, the wind blowing lightly, everything peaceful, himself ready for a good long sleep.

Suddenly Sláma calls out, “Boys, the party is gathered together! Now it’s time we got to work! I’m not after anyone, but we have to do our duty. Everyone has to give all he can. Then better days will come, and our railroad will be done. Someday you’ll bring your people here and tell them, ‘This is where I worked, here with Sláma!’ But before you can say that you have to accomplish something, otherwise it will all come to nothing. When Master Rybák shows up, make sure not to stand around like a pack of idiots. And when old man Čiperný shows up, then have at it, no looking right, no looking left, just straight ahead, and work, work, work! Meanwhile, come along with me so we can get some tools.” Everyone jumps up, and Sláma goes with his people to the work site below, where the wooden storage shacks for the bridge builders are located, there also being a shed that Sláma opens and from whose stockpile of tools he takes a pickaxe, no shovels, for today they don’t need them, Sláma looking over all the pickaxes and sometimes saying, “Not right, let’s look for another,” though finally Sláma is satisfied, he closes the shed, and they head back up the hill. There Sláma explains what you can see from there, it being a steep precipice, though it will soon be flattened, no doubt it will take a while, we’ll just have to see how it goes, how it moves ahead, though no one really knows yet what kind of material they’ll have to dig into, it starting with grass, then earth, hopefully a lot of earth and not so much sticky clay, after which there is always a lot of stone, followed by bedrock, which will have to be drilled into and explosives used, though by then all the new arrivals will be masters, today being when they will start in clearing away the turf. Sláma takes hold of one of the picks and shows how to use it, it only requiring the right approach, and by that Sláma means a certain knack, and once you get the hang of it and feel more sure, then it’s easy, and it looks so when he does it, it being quite a sight as the stocky man deftly pierces the earth and with one tug releases a square of turf that he then tosses away.