Officer Factory. Hans Hellmut Kirst

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      Captain Ratshelm allowed himself no rest, and interpreted this as his sense of duty.

      He had made all his preparations for the following day's work, had written a long letter to his mother, and had then sat listening thoughtfully to the final sounds of the day which invariably preceded the sounding of lock-up--the scampering of bare feet in the corridor, the water running in the washroom and the latrine, a brief exchange of conversation, a joke or two, the hearty laughter of young men, all followed by the footsteps of the duty officer passing through the billets, brisk footsteps marked by a faint clinking sound as an iron-studded heel struck a flagstone. A few sharp orders, and then a sort of forced and artificial stillness.

      The rule was that any cadet who from then on (22.00 hours) wanted to sleep was to be left undisturbed. Undisturbed and this was an important qualification, by his companions. For of course visits from superior officers, practice alarms or special searches might disturb him at any hour of the night. Anyone who wished to work, though, could do so up to 24.00 hours, the one condition being that he wasn't to make a noise under any circumstances.

      This was Ratshelm's great moment.

      For the Captain had established it for himself as a principle that the cadets should know just how solicitous he was for their welfare. He applied this principle by a carefully formulated plan known only to himself, which he put into action first thing in the morning immediately after reveille, when he supervised the morning wash and early games, and again now, late in the evening.

      Ratshelm strode briskly from his room, down the corridor and out through the main door of the building. He continued across the parade ground and the main thoroughfare of the camp, round an ammunition dump and up to a set of wooden barracks, where H Section enjoyed temporary accommodation. The barracks were gradually becoming too small for their purpose, and additional huts had therefore had to be built to house the most junior of the officer cadets. Those in H Section were naturally the first to suffer, though in Rats-helm's eyes there was nothing wrong with throwing them all together like this. His one cause for regret was that they were some distance away, though this also meant that more checks were required.

      Ratshelm entered the narrow corridor of the barrack block and looked eagerly about him. He was disappointed by what he saw or rather failed to see. The rooms were fitted with glass windows above the doors, but in none of these was there a light. It seemed that the cadets were already asleep. This indicated that none of them was making a point of working late, though such a thing was expressly permitted by the regulations. Ratshelm shone his torch along the numbers on the doors, until he came to number 7.

      The four cadets who lived here were in fact asleep, or at least showed no signs of not being asleep. One was even snoring in his bunk, while the others lay there like logs, paralyzed with exhaustion, dead to the world. Anyhow, Ratshelm's expert glance noted at once that the room was nice and tidy, and his eyes shone with appreciation. He flashed his torch across the beds, and found himself looking into a pair of eyes that stared back at him wide awake and radiant.

      "Aha, Hochbauer," said Ratshelm softly, going closer, “so you're not asleep yet?"

      “I’ve only just stopped working, sir," replied Hochbauer equally softly.

      The Captain smiled to himself rather as an art expert smiles on finding himself before the most valuable picture in a gallery. He considered himself fortunate to be entrusted with such magnificent specimens of humanity.

      “What have you been working at so late, Hochbauer?" he asked with interest, and his pleasant baritone voice was full of fatherly good-will.

      “I’ve been reading Clausewitz," said the cadet.

      “Admirable stuff," commented- Ratshelm with approval.

      “I’m afraid, though, sir," said Hochbauer confidentially,” that there are one or two things I'm not quite clear about. It's not Clausewitz's fault, but there are just a few points I don't quite understand."

      “Well, my dear Hochbauer, you can always come along and see me about them. Any time, after duty. To-morrow evening would suit me. You know where I live. I'll be only too pleased to help you. That's what we're here for!"

      “Thank you, sir," said the cadet happily, and throwing out his chest he braced himself in the bed as if coming to attention. His night-shirt opened across his chest revealing his identification discs and the glistening texture of his skin.

      Ratshelm nodded and left, seeming suddenly to be in a great hurry. Probably it was his sense of duty that called him.