Read Tempting Fate Online

Authors: Chelsea Quinn Yarbro

Tempting Fate (18 page)

“Lieutenant,” Major Rauch snapped, “make a note of those names. And see that their families are notified.” He did not bother to look to see if the Lieutenant had done as ordered, for there was not a doubt in his mind that he would be obeyed. “I don’t suppose I have to tell you that there is going to be another retreat.” He spat the words out, his brow darkening.

“We’ve been told very little, sir,” Edmund said respectfully.

“That’s what I’ve heard all up and down the line.” He frowned. “Why haven’t you extended the trench any farther? You’re supposed to join up with Sergeant Klinge’s unit—”

“I realize that, sir,” Edmund interrupted, meeting Rauch’s hard stare evenly. “We discovered we were digging through bodies. A great many of them. Colonel Stark ordered us to stop, and then he was killed.”

Major Rauch rubbed at his lower lip thoughtfully. “Colonel Stark left no mention of it. Well.” He shrugged impatiently. “Continue the digging. We’ll be moving by tomorrow, but there’s no reason why we should not conduct ourselves as soldiers. If any of the bodies are our men save what you can of them.”

“I beg your pardon, sir,” Julius Quelle said, “but there’s almost nothing left of the uniforms.”

“In that case,” Helmut Rauch said more decisively, “do what you must. This is not a time to be squeamish. And be prepared to evacuate this position on twenty minutes’ notice.” He brought up his hand sharply and scowled at the slowness of the men’s response. As he turned away from the trench, he made an impatient gesture. “Lieutenant Bischof, so far all the men I have seen have been ill-fed, ill-equipped, and ill-mannered.”

“Yes, sir,” the Lieutenant said, not sure how to respond to this criticism.

“How does that come about?” He had reached the side of his chestnut Beberbeck, and was making a routine check of the girth as he asked.

“Sir, it’s that way everywhere. It’s not just the retreat, it’s all of it. There’s not enough food, or ammunition, or medicine, or petrol, or … any of the rest of it. There’s not enough soap to wash, and no strops for the razors…” He opened his hands before taking the reins of his big Schleswig mare’s bridle.

Major Rauch had swung into the saddle. “It’s inexcusable,” he declared. “Someone is responsible for this debacle, and I intend to find but who it is. We should be winning this war, Lieutenant Bischof, and we’re not.” He clapped his heels to the Beberbeck’s sides and they started off again in the direction of Sergeant Klinge’s unit.

“But, Major Rauch,” the Lieutenant protested as he followed the man, “without food or ammunition, how can we fight? How can we win?”

“The French haven’t food or ammunition, and the English have lost most of their officers. They’re in worse condition than we are.” He looked down with distaste at the shattered remains of a laden wagon. It had been drawn by two mules, and three men had been on it. “Isn’t there time to bury these unfortunates?”

“No,” Lieutenant Bischof said with real bitterness. “No, Major Rauch, there isn’t. And if there were, there is no place to bury them. This whole area is thick with bodies. If you dig down any way at all, you’ll find them.”

Major Rauch clicked his tongue in disapproval, but put the matter aside as Lieutenant Bischof brought him up to the next section of trench where Sergeant Klinge’s men huddled between the damp, fetid walls.

At the end of his inspection, Major Helmut Rauch was thoroughly disgusted. The troops, as he told Lieutenant Bischof at length, were in lamentable condition, the morale was inexcusable, and the preparedness of the Army was disgraceful. His harangue took up the better part of half an hour as he returned to the temporary headquarters for this zone.

“I intend to make a full report, Lieutenant, and it will not be the sort of pleasant nothings that they are used to hearing in Berlin. When I read the report of General Groener, I thought he was exaggerating, but I am beginning to think that he was understating the case.”

Lieutenant Bischof had heard rumors about General Groener’s report, but had not read it, being too junior an officer to have access to it. “He was upset at the industrialists, wasn’t he, sir? He accused them of making extreme profits…”

“Oh, indeed he did. The War Office found one instance of a private company turning a profit of more than thirty million. And that was not the only instance. That’s what comes of letting foreign businessmen into our…” He drew up as they reached the tent of Lieutenant Colonel Gotthard Aufenthalt. Major Rauch was a little less meticulous than he had been when he set out that morning, and it irked him to have to report to his commanding officer in less than parade-ground perfection. He tossed the reins to Lieutenant Bischof, saying, “See that he’s fed and watered. I brought along a supply of oats, which are in my tent.”

Lieutenant Bischof stared after Major Rauch, the amiable expression he had managed to keep on his face so far that day faded to one of fatigue and impotence. The last thing the men needed now was a martinet, but from the look of it, that was what they would have. He nudged his mare to a walk, leading the Beberbeck toward Major Rauch’s tent. He put all thoughts of Major Helmut Rauch out of his mind for the moment, and instead concentrated on the very real problem of getting something to eat.

Lieutenant Colonel Gotthard Aufenthalt was reading through a number of dispatches, and shaking his head. He was not a young man, and the war had aged him cruelly. His hair was white; his light blue eyes, once described as dreamy were now haunted and seemed to be hiding in the fretwork of lines that surrounded them. He was quite tall and wire-lean. He returned Major Rauch’s salute in an abstracted way and motioned the younger man to be seated.

“I would prefer to stand,” Major Rauch declared.

Lieutenant Colonel Aufenthalt sighed. “We’re not conducting an exercise here, Major. You will find that it is wise to take rests when they are offered to you. Sit down.” He was no longer looking at Rauch, but at a casualty list that sickened him. “Heilige Engel, will it never end?”

“Sir!” This single word was as much of a reprimand as Major Rauch dared to give his superior. He cleared his throat. “I have made the inspection you requested, Lieutenant Colonel, and I wish to report my findings to you.”

“Must you say it aloud, Major? I will accept it in writing.” Aufenthalt was exhausted, and the prospect of whatever complaints this stiff-backed young officer had to make—and he must surely have complaints, if his overly-correct posture was any indication—would be an additional burden he did not want to shoulder.

“I think it best be kept between the two of us, Sir.” Major Rauch turned his hard brown eyes on the Lieutenant Colonel with earnest zeal. “There is a great deal to be done, and little time to do it.”

“I’m aware of that, Major,” Aufenthalt said in an attempt to forestall him. “That is why I cannot give you my full attention just now.”

“But you must,” Major Rauch insisted. “Sir, this whole line is intolerable. I have to tell, as shamed as I am to say it, that I believe our forces here are close to surrender.”

Whatever reaction Helmut Rauch expected, he did not get it. Lieutenant Colonel Aufenthalt nodded slowly. “I’m not surprised. That they’ve held out this long is a miracle. If we had fresh troops, that would be different, but these men have been in the trenches, some of them, for two and three years.
Two and three years, Major!
” He brought his hand down on the tabletop for emphasis. “Do you know what they’ve gone through? You think today was distressing, do you? You should see it when it’s raining, when the mud of the road comes up to your knees and men who fall from exhaustion suffocate in the mud and sink without a trace. Today is pleasant. There is some sunshine, but it isn’t so hot that the smell is overpowering. These trenches are the worst of the charnel house and the latrine, Major. Now, what is it you want to tell me?” There was a little color in his face, and his voice had risen. His hands were trembling, and it took him a little time to master himself sufficiently to speak in a calm, reasonable tone. “I can understand why you are … disappointed, Major Rauch. You would like to think that Deutschland has men who are unstoppable, or who lose with grace and honor. Instead, you see these poor wretches living where you would not kennel a rabid dog.” He wiped a hand over his face. “It has been a very long day, Major. I did not sleep last night, I have not eaten since noon yesterday. It is still four hours until sunset and there is much to do. Now, if you have anything that you feel cannot wait, I will listen.”

Major Rauch had stood unflinching through the Lieutenant Colonel’s outburst, his face set in a stoic mask. “If the Lieutenant Colonel will forgive me, there are a few matters that should be discussed now.”

Aufenthalt let out a long, whistling breath. “Very well, Major. What is it that can’t wait?”

“First, Sir, if you will pardon me for speaking of it, your own attitude is deplorable. How can you expect these men to rally and stop the Allied advance if you do nothing but bemoan their fate? You should exhort them to turn defeat into victory. Then, the men should be set to work when they are not actually fighting. Some of the problems of morale come from idleness. If they were set to repairing wagons and reinforcing gun installations, then they would believe they stood a chance to win. And with sufficient preparation, we might turn this appalling retreat into a successful assault. It would also be wise to set some of these men to foraging, since the food supplies appear to be dreadfully low.”

“I see.” Lieutenant Colonel Aufenthalt tapped the table with the edge of the casualty report. “First, I have not set the men to work because they haven’t the strength for it. They’re hungry, Major, and tired. Most of them will have to be on the march before another day goes by, and I don’t want to lose any more of them than I must. There’s little point in building up emplacements that will simply have to be abandoned, and that would leave necessary supplies behind for the Allied forces to use themselves. As for foraging, I believe that every acre of ground between here and Saint Quentin has been picked clean. These men are more desperate than goats, Major Rauch. They would eat hemlock if we allowed it, only to have something inside them.” He pushed his chair back and was about to rise when he caught sight of another figure in the door.

“Lieutenant Colonel Aufenthalt,” said the newcomer with a crisp salute, “I am Captain Aaron von Rathenau.” He held out his orders to Aufenthalt.

“Captain von Rathenau,” Lieutenant Colonel Aufenthalt said, his gelid eyes warming slightly, “it is an honor.” He took the orders and glanced over them. “I see that you were supposed to report to Colonel Stark, but I imagine you have heard that he is dead.”

“Yes, Sir,” Captain von Rathenau said quietly. He was shorter than the other two men, with tanned skin and dark hair. His eyes were olive-green and intelligent. Without doubt he had left his university studies for the war, for he could not have been more than twenty-one.

“And for the moment you must report to me,” Aufenthalt said. “We’re not doing too well here in artillery, but there are still a number of options left to us…”

Major Rauch had been studying Captain von Rathenau in silence, his expression gradually becoming more contemptuous. Now he interrupted the Lieutenant Colonel again. “Von Rathenau. Are you related to Walther von Rathenau of Allgemeine Elektrizitaetsgesellschaft?”

“And the War Ministry, yes,” the Captain said immediately. “He is my uncle.”

Puzzled by the Major’s behavior, Lieutenant Colonel Aufenthalt tried to smooth the awkward moment over. “A fine family. They’ve done a great deal for Deutschland. You must be proud to know—”

“They are traitors!” Major Rauch burst out. “They’re the ones who have lost this war for us, if it is lost. They’re devouring our country whole! Bureau Haber, all of them have been working for our destruction!” His complexion had darkened and his voice rose to an overwhelming shout.

At first Captain von Rathenau had stood, baffled, at this outburst, but as the accusations continued, he drew himself up very straight.

“Major…”—he realized he did not know his antagonist’s name—“Major, you have no reason to speak so. My family has given its money, its children, its facilities to Deutschland. If not for my uncle, there would have been no chance at all to win this war—”

“You’re subtle, Captain, and a liar!” Major Rauch drew back his arm to strike the Captain, but Lieutenant Colonel Aufenthalt lunged across the table at him, knocking his arm aside. His face was pale with fury.

“Now then, Major Rauch! You will account for this to me and to Captain von Rathenau at once or tell me why you should not face Court-Martial in the morning.” There was a quiver in his cheek, and he spoke softly, as if he did not dare give vent to his feelings.

“Account!” Major Rauch got to his feet and spat. “Damned Jewish swine!” He faced Captain von Rathenau. “You’re sly, you Jews. But there are a few of us left who are not blind. You say that you’ve given so much to Deutschland, but you’re only exacting profits in the guise of patriotism.” He started to turn away, but with insulting courtesy saluted Lieutenant Colonel Aufenthalt, then strode out of the tent.

Lieutenant Colonel Aufenthalt stared after the Major as he straightened up. “Captain, I extend my apology for … that.”

Aaron von Rathenau was breathing more quickly than usual and his hands were tight at his sides. “You did nothing, Lieutenant Colonel. It was Major … Rauch, is it?”

“Major Helmut Rauch,” Aufenthalt supplied. “I had no idea he would…” He gestured his confusion as he once more took his seat.

“He is not the only one who feels that way,” von Rathenau said with undisguised anger. “It is popular in certain circles to blame the Jews for what is happening. That way none of them need feel tainted by failure.” He stared at the Lieutenant Colonel. “We’re going to lose. We all know it, but no one wants to say so. The Kaiser does not want to believe it, and therefore we all pretend that it isn’t so. The Kaiser will not admit it, and those who do not agree are well-advised to be silent. You might have me Court-Martialed for what I have just said, Lieutenant Colonel Aufenthalt.” He studied the white-haired officer in front of him.

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