"If he keeps that up he will get a little coloured bird for his buttonhole by this evening," says Albert. "Or rather he will soon be made acting-sergeant-major," says Kat. We look at one another. "I would not do it," I say. "All the same," says Kat, "it's very good for you to see it just now." Sergeant Oellrich returns to the fire-step. The muzzle of his rifle searches to and fro. "You don't need to lose any more sleep over your affair," nods Albert. And now I hardly understand it myself any more. "It was only because I had to lie there with him so long," I say. "After all, war is war." Oellrich's rifle cracks out sharp and dry. CHAPTER X We have dropped in for a good job. Eight of us have to guard a village that has been abandoned because it is being shelled too heavily. In particular we have to watch the supply dump as that is not yet empty. We are supposed to provision ourselves from the same store. We are just the right people for that;--Kat, Albert, Müller, Tjaden, Detering, our whole gang is there. Haie is dead, though. But we are mighty lucky all the same, all the other squads have had more casualties than we have. We select, as a dug-out, a reinforced concrete cellar into which steps lead down from above. The entrance is protected by a separate concrete wall. Now we develop an immense industry. This is an opportunity not only to stretch one's legs, but to stretch one's soul also. We make the best use of such opportunities. The war is too desperate to allow us to be sentimental for long. That is only possible so long as things are not going too badly. After all, we cannot afford to be anything but matter-of-fact. So matter-of-fact, indeed, that I often shudder when a thought from the days before the war comes momentarily into my head. But it does not stay long. We have to take things as lightly as we can, so we make the most of every opportunity, and nonsense stands stark and immediate beside horror. It cannot be otherwise, that is how we hearten ourselves. So we zealously set to work to create an idyll--an idyll of eating and sleeping, of course. The floor is first covered with mattresses which we haul in from the houses. Even a soldier's behind likes to sit soft. Only in the middle of the floor is there any clear space. Then we furnish ourselves with blankets and eiderdowns, luxurious soft affairs. There is plenty of everything to be had in the town. Albert and I find a mahogany bed which can be taken to pieces, with a sky of blue silk and a lace coverlet. We sweat like monkeys moving it in, but a man cannot let a thing like that slip, and it would certainly be shot to pieces in a day or two.