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Updated: June 30, 2025
Once when ill, and left alone in the dormitory, Niederlein had broken open a locker and appropriated a piece of sausage therefrom. Schumann had caught him red-handed.
He was not quite clear in his mind whether this had been entirely in order it might have been technically an assault; at any rate it turned out right. Niederlein was now about the best soldier in the whole battery, and would have, gone through fire and water for the sergeant-major. The lad watched awhile how Schumann went slowly out through the back gateway and disappeared into the little wood.
The last, who kept on moving further down in order to be the very last to say good bye, was Niederlein, a smart little gunner, who had polished his accoutrements for him during the last year. The sergeant-major pressed his hand with special heartiness, and breathed freely: Thank God, Niederlein made up for Wolf!
Thieving from a comrade was a serious offence, entailing severe punishment and public disgrace; but Schumann knew Niederlein was only thoughtless and greedy, and it had been more a stupid prank than a crime, for the money which lay near the sausage was untouched. So he had held the boy across the table and given him five-and-twenty strokes with his leather belt.
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