H. Adler - Panorama

Sláma appears to be measuring something, then three civil servants arrive, carrying a large crate, Sláma telling them where to put it, it having a hinged top with a lock on the front, which Sláma then proceeds to try to open. Then another civil servant arrives and announces that Rybák has sent along some stuff that is down below with Vodil, and since they need to haul the stuff up the boys stop digging up the turf and they all go down to Vodil, where they find a load of planks, boards, and battens that all have to be carried up, as well as a host of wheelbarrows that lie about with a wheel in the air, reminding Josef of beetles or bees. Most are happy for the change of pace, each grabbing a bundle of battens or boards, the long planks shouldered by two as they move them along the path below and then up the hill, they being too heavy otherwise, while the iron wheelbarrows take a lot of effort to push up the hill, Rybák, who shows up unannounced, ordering them to come up over by Vodil, where it’s not so steep, for it’s easier that way, and everything can be transported much better, even if it takes longer. Josef meanwhile looks out at the fields, potatoes and turnips still waiting to be harvested, the meadows taking on a late-summer look, everything encased in a golden hue, a cheerful sight, his eye sweeping along the edge of the forest, no one visible anywhere, the world’s evil for once dissolving, the earth wanting to know nothing of what people do, it patiently withstanding everything that happens, though it is untouched by meaningless events, work carrying on, though the earth couldn’t give a care. It means nothing to her when a cliff is detonated here and there, she just takes it in and feels nothing, and even when she does sense it she is wounded for only a short time and just as quickly forgets it, as only people suffer as a result of their work. Josef imagines all this, but he also knows how silly and sentimental his thoughts are, arising as they do from the constant trials of a sniveling powerlessness looking for comfort amid a hopeless situation, he having been condemned to loneliness in being separated from all his friends, no longer knowing whom he is close to in this world, while here there is no one whom he has known longer than since yesterday, and it weighs on him. Josef looks off into the distance, though there is no view here, everywhere there are impediments, woods cutting off the view, behind which there must be open land, town after town, on and on, there always being more sweeping views until you reach the nation’s borders, though they no longer mean anything, for everything is up for grabs now, while farther on you can hear the whirl of snarling commotion, men also holding shovels and picks in their hands there, war being fought, Josef having learned as a school child the word “weaponry,” something that spreads mounting noise, clashing and rattling, war on the loose, no one knowing what it’s about, a mad grin lacing the battle, a dreamlike ambiguity covering it over with a green mold, puddles of blood, dung, stench, the earth there as well, perhaps frightened for a moment before ragged, smoking heaps, all of it too much to take, though the earth really isn’t afraid, these being only childish thoughts.

Then it’s finally over, Sláma calling out that work is finished, soon the evening will begin, only make sure to turn over the wheelbarrows so that they don’t fill with rain, as well as clean the picks. “Boys, make sure the tools are clean! As we start to dig deeper, always clean the tools, so that nothing sticks to them! Otherwise the shovels will be too heavy. And make sure to leave none lying around! Never give your pick and shovel to someone else to take care of!” Sláma watches as they put the picks back in the shed, after which he locks it up, though no one is allowed to head home yet, but finally the siren sounds, everyone wishing Sláma good night as he waves in return. Josef is tired, but his legs feel fine and he heads toward home in a good mood, curious to learn how things went for his roommates as he quickens his pace, someone telling him that he shouldn’t hurry so, for he’ll get gravel in his shoes, and you can get blisters on your soles and heels, Josef thanking the person for the warning, though he hardly pays attention to it, he knowing how to walk just fine. He sees that he doesn’t have to follow the rail bed all the way back to the builders’ hut, for a good ways before the gravel mill a shortcut branches off, running steeply down through roots and sharp stones, but soon improving, though it’s quite damp despite the dry weather, the earth black, the air cool, the creek finally reached, the woods now behind him, to the right meadows ranging out toward the embankment on which the new railroad will run, the last stretch passing by the engineers’ cinder-block houses. Josef looks at his watch, noting that even though he hurried, it had taken him nearly an hour to get back.

Josef comes into the room, the others already having gathered there, all of them much more tired than himself, he having handled it much better, one of them working under Chudoba, while the rest are with Sajdl. The youths lie about casually with their dirty boots on and mess up their bedding, though Josef tells them to take their boots off and pull themselves together, which they do as they begin to tell about how hard it is to work for Sajdl, who is in charge of the area to the left of the builders’ hut, the tempo murderous, Sajdl a dog without the slightest bit of care for the new arrivals, he instead having scoffed that they were young, fresh boys, so they should pick and shovel faster, the light train bringing along huge cars that four men were supposed to fill in half an hour, and then the train would pull away, but not a single new arrival had succeeded, the older workers needing a minimum of thirty-five minutes. The master had screamed that they were idiots, lazy vermin, for he can do it in twenty, you just need to throw your ass into it, but still it did no good. Then Čiperný showed up, and even he said that Sajdl shouldn’t be so hard on his people. By afternoon things had slowed down somewhat, but by then everyone was exhausted and needed forty minutes or even longer to load the cars, the master threatening that he should make them work overtime if this continued to happen, but today he will be lenient because it’s the first day. There is only one advantage to working for Sajdl, and that is that at noon you can run over to the canteen, toss down the slop they serve, and quickly run back up to the work site, arriving breathless, though soon the whistle blows and straight off you’re shoveling away like mad without having had any time to rest.

Josef advises the boys to stay at the work site in future in order to lie down and rest, meaning that they should take something along to eat and forget the canteen food. This idea is met with approval, the boys saying it was too miserable in the canteen, where last year’s rotten potatoes are served, along with a disgusting broth, the soup tasting like dishwater. Josef then recommends that they cook for themselves each night, but the boys say that they don’t know how to and they are too tired, though Josef says that’s not a problem, for he’s willing to cook for them, he only needs one helper to do so, and that they can simply buy food and make simple meals, while each week only four of them pick up food in the canteen, although this week they’ll wait and see if the food is still so miserable and if they will have enough money to buy groceries. Josef will head straight off into town with a knapsack in order to see where he can get some proper milk, and maybe he’ll bring back a few other things as well, though someone will need to go with him. Simon volunteers to do so, and also gets a knapsack.

Already the first farm they come to is ready to sell them some milk for ration tickets. Eight people. Let’s see, that’s no more than a liter a day, but we’ll have to see what we can do, for it can be arranged, and if no one tells anyone, then there will be three liters a day available. Josef and Simon are satisfied with this plan, but before they head back they want to go into the village in order to purchase a milk can, but where is the best place to do so? Kopřiva is the best, and sometimes he won’t even ask for a ration ticket. Go to Kopřiva, he’s just past the bridge, the first shop, a tiny place, but chock-full of goods, where they find both people from the village and forced laborers, Kopřiva and his wife having their hands full with trying to serve all the customers, though finally it’s Josef and Simon’s turn as they buy a couple of pots, a pan, a five-liter can, two cooking spoons, and a good kitchen knife, after which they also take a couple of loaves of bread, happy that they are not forced to take only a part of each. They then promise always to shop there, if they can, and Kopřiva promises that, yes, they will always be well served, as long as possible, but ration tickets will indeed have to be used. But we can sell you what others are willing to do without, so they buy potatoes, barley, grits, and oatmeal as well. This is fine with Kopřiva, for no one in Wirschenowitz wants oatmeal, nor does anyone want the cornmeal that has been stripped of its oil, so they get cornmeal, as well as some proper flour. But only for ration tickets. Sugar must also go for tickets, as well as marmalade, salt, and some spices, and could they have some vegetables? Ah, I’m afraid there are none, just some leeks, vegetables are rare here in general, but you can have some dried onions, yes, and there’s pudding powder as well, though hardly anyone wants it, for nobody buys it. Yes, we’d be happy to have some. Then Frau Kopřiva says that there are some sour pickles. This pleases Simon, who wants to take some — eight men, two for each, so sixteen in all. No, you can’t have that many, only eight, no customer is supposed to get more than five, but since it’s eight men we can make an exception. Simon can’t wait and eats his pickle on the spot, Josef doing so as well, which satisfies each, after which the bill must be tallied, please could you write it down, what exactly does that refer to? Ah yes, the caraway seeds, and that’s the barley, that’s the grits, it all makes sense, here’s your change, that’s right, after which the two say goodbye with both knapsacks full, as well as their hands, and Kopřiva calls out, “Please do us the honor again sometime soon, we have good schnapps available!” But already they are on their way back, the milk ready at the farm, the only question being whether they want fresh farmer’s cheese as well. Yes, let’s have some, a kilo of cheese, here’s the money, and the two turn away satisfied.