is raining in his little corner of Oldenburg. They haven’t brought the hay in yet.
At this moment Himmelstoss appears. He comes straight up to our group. Tjaden’s face turns red. He stretches his length on the grass and shuts his eyes in embarrassment.
Himmelstoss is a little hesitant, his gait becomes slower. Then he marches up to us. No one makes any motion to stand up. Kropp looks up at him with interest.
He continues to stand in front of us and wait. As no one says anything he launches a “Well?”
A couple of seconds go by. Apparently Himmelstoss doesn’t quite know what to do. He would like most to set us all on the run again. But he seems to have learned already that the front-line isn’t a parade ground. He tries it on though, and by addressing himself to one instead of to all of us hopes to get some response. Kropp is nearest, so he favours him.
“Well, you here too?”
But Albert’s no friend of his. “A bit longer than you, I fancy,” he retorts.
The red moustache twitches: “You don’t recognize me any more, what?”
Tjaden now opens his eyes. “I do though.”
Himmelstoss turns to him: “Tjaden, isn’t it?”
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