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Updated: June 4, 2025
"Nothing further? He seems a promising fellow! Where have we put him?" "In Room IX., Corporal Wiegandt." "Does he know ?" "Yes, sir, I've mentioned it to him." "Right. Call him in; I'll speak to him, and afterwards to Frielinghausen." "Very good, sir." In a few minutes the little bearded corporal was in the room and awaiting his captain's pleasure.
This meant sousing with clean water again and again, washing out with soft soap, and then going on pumping and working with the mop until the water came out again as clean as it had gone in. "Now, boys," Sergeant Wiegandt used to say, "if you don't feel inclined to drink the water as it comes out of the gun, then that means it isn't clean enough yet. So go ahead!" And then the drying afterwards!
The burgo-master of the little town, being a senior-lieutenant of the reserve, had been present at the performance of some exercises by the sixth battery, and had personally chosen out his man. Wegstetten was furious at losing his best non-commissioned officer, and pressed Wiegandt to stick to the flag; but the sergeant was not to be prevailed upon, for he was impatient now to quit the service.
With swift determination he gave over his duties as sergeant-major to Sergeant Wiegandt, then galloped to the right flank to try and mend matters somehow if possible. But the disaster had already begun. Gun six had from a gallop dropped into a trot, and from a trot into a walk. At last the six horses could not drag the gun one inch further.
The sexton preceded the coffin, and behind it followed, in order, the pastor, the two staff officers, Güntz and Reimers, the two adjutants, Heppner and Wiegandt, and last came the woman and her son. At the grave the pastor pronounced the blessing and prayed.
The delicate clerk possessed another advantage, in his own calling almost surprising, and particularly useful to an artilleryman: that is to say, unusually sharp sight, which found the mark in a moment and took aim with absolute accuracy. This somewhat atoned to Wiegandt for his other faults, and it was only for Lieutenant Landsberg that Klitzing remained nothing but a scapegoat.
Wiegandt had not only acceded to the request, but had taken them both to serve on his own gun, the sixth; Klitzing, with his sharp eyes, as gun-layer, or No. 2; Vogt as No. 1, whose duty it was to fire. And now they sat, this Whitsun-Tuesday, side by side on the gun-carriage, with the muzzle of the gun between them; and when Wegstetten called out in his clear, strident voice, "Battery, mount!"
And Wiegandt, who, despite his martial appearance, was an ardent lover, added the pfennigs of his pay, and deprived himself of his evening beer, going for walks with his sweet-heart instead, and kissing her over and over again. "That tastes better than beer," he would say, "and costs nothing."
The officer appealed to the honour of his subordinate, in whom he was placing a special trust, and impressed upon him in carefully chosen language the necessity for keeping a watchful eye on the new recruit Weise, without, however, treating him differently from his comrades. Wiegandt thereupon felt called on to describe and commend Weise's smartness and good humour.
When Wiegandt had gone, the officer turned to the sergeant-major and said with a sigh, "Damned nuisances they are! Now we've got two of these fellows, Wolf and Weise, we must see they don't get together. How is Wolf doing?" "No fault to find with him, sir." Wegstetten walked to the window and looked out silently.
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