For two years, as members of our battalion and extra soldiers from the reserves were drummed up, I held my position on Graun’s Head. I counted myself lucky. Max Junior was sent off to the south, and I worried about him. He was there with Frederick, and since I was the only son left of the Hanny family nearby, I had to make extra efforts to visit my parents.
It was difficult at first, because it meant less time with Cecilia. But I had to keep up appearances or there would be questions. I made sure to go to the inn as regularly as possible. In the beginning, Jutta had anticipated that I would come to her bed, and when I did not, I sensed from her a mixture of relief and chastisement. The nights I had to spend with her at the inn, I drank. It was the only thing that took the edge off.
On one such evening, I sat with the advisors at the Stammtisch and was generous with the supply of wine and schnapps. Jutta scolded me, reminding me we were at war, and I ignored her. When she snatched a half-full bottle from the table, I rose out of my seat and towered over her.
“Woman,” I said, “you will kindly remember that it was my generosity that saved this inn and”—I whirled to the Stammtisch—“their land. Isn’t that right, boys?”
There were shifty looks around the table, and it irritated me all the more. “I am the one who showed those engineers a good time. Me and Max Junior,” I reminded them. “We wrote off their bill, and it’s because of me you’re all on dry land.”
“As I recall,” Jutta snapped, “you were doing most of the drinking, and Mayor Roeschen here and your brothers—I’ll give credit where credit is due—were the ones who negotiated with them.”
“That’s a bunch of hogwash!” My tongue was thick against my mouth. “I was the one who fought the hardest. Had to pay for all that food and drink and with my tobacco money.”
The men started to placate Jutta, and I knew they were not really supporting me. They were simply not eager to see Jutta and me get into another violent spat.
“None of you,” I started. I steadied myself against the post. “None of you take me seriously.” I stared at their expressions.
“Come on,” I cried. I threw an arm around Jutta’s shoulders and kissed the top of her head, wresting the bottle from her. “Be a good woman. You’re making them all uncomfortable.” I swung to the men, plastering a smile on my face. “Give me your glasses, boys. I’ll prove I’m not as rotten as she says I am.”
“I’m happy to pay,” Georg said. “Jutta, you know I always do.”
“Jesus-Mary!” This had gone too far. “Georg, you’re family. You“—I waggled a finger before him—“never pay.”
I confirmed with the others. We were all right. We were fine. Everyone was good. I sat down and reached for the stack of Jassen cards and started dealing them out. “Drink up, boys. And Jutta, bring us another bottle.”
The following night, Jutta and I had a real fight. I might have struck out at her once or twice. What I did remember was how she swore she would never speak to the Herr Doktor again. That while I had been up at Graun’s Head the last time, he had come with some “special doctors” to examine Alois. They had once more pronounced him incurable and that the best place was an institution in Innsbruck.
I argued that it very well might be. What kind of future did my boy have here? He would be raked over the coals given any opportunity. He was five now, should be attending school the following year, and with the war on, none of us could take care of him.
“Just send him temporarily, Jutta. Just until the conflict is over.”
She put her hands on her hips and slammed a plate on the table. The edge chipped, and the piece flew onto the floor.
“You think I’m stupid? You keep your parents away from me, I tell you, or I will not be blamed for what happens to them.”
That was the door she held open for me. The next morning, I told Jutta I was going to speak to my parents and most likely stay the night.
“I will tell them to stay away, Jutta, but you must remember, my father is an old man and still concerned about his reputation. He is ashamed.”
“And you? What about the shame you carry for your son?”
When I did not answer her, she threw the first glass.
“He is the product of your sin,” Jutta hissed.
“I should never have rutted about with the likes of you, Jutta.” I pointed at the door behind which Alois slept. “That could never have come from me!”
I left her like that, and I was not regretful. I had something else to hold on to. I had Cecilia.
I confronted my father and demanded the Herr Doktor stay away from Jutta. I left the Schlössl, saying I had to get back to the inn, that my wife was upset and that I should be there.
As soon as I was out of sight, I took the road that led north and across the pass. I usually came to the Müller farm by cover of night to avoid raising the suspicions of Eberhardt’s boys. If I made owl calls from the barn, Cecilia would wake and meet me there and sleep in the hay with me until shortly before the boys would have to be up to milk the cow.
As I walked towards Nauders, I yearned for Cecilia so much, the pain was physical. I hurried along, pausing only to let a horse and cart by. As it passed, I saw it was filled with Standschützen. Someone called my name, and the driver reined in the horses. I recognized some of the boys from the Nauders company, Marius amongst them. That was who had called out to me.
“What are you doing here?” he shouted from the cart.
“Going into town.”
“Hop on.”
I did not want to hop on. If I got in with these men, I would never make it to the Müller farm. There would be no escape. “I want to walk.”
Marius swung off the cart, informed the driver he would accompany me the rest of the way.
“Where are you coming from?” I asked.
“Getting back from the Ortlers.”
I stopped in my tracks. “The lieutenant too?”
“He should already be home.” Marius scanned my face.
He’d lost weight, but his eyes were still deeply set and sharp. “Fritz, you aren’t… Come on. You aren’t messing about with his wife, are you?”
It would do no good to deny it to Marius. He saw right through me. It was the reason he did good business.
He groaned and draped an arm around my shoulder, then rubbed the top of my head, shoving off my cap. “You’re an idiot, Fritz. A real idiot.”
I said nothing, knowing I had no other choice but to go into town with him and soak my sorrows in another bottle with the rest of the boys.
When we reached the local inn, Marius paused at the door. “You get your orders too then?”
I shrugged and shook my head. “What orders?”
“All three companies are heading south. To the Marmolada.”
I stared at him and then back down the road where we had come, the way that would lead me to the Müller farm. I glared at Marius.
“I need to get to her. Help me get to her. I can’t just leave her like this.”
“No, Fritz. He’s there with her now. You want to get killed or what?”
Yes. I did. I wanted to die before leaving Cecilia again.
“Come on, Fritz. Let it go already.” Marius dragged me into the inn, and I stopped him once more.
“Johi Thaler.”
“What about him?”
“He’s got my territory. I get it back, right?”
Marius smacked my shoulder. “Of course. As soon as this war is over. It’ll be over soon. The Prussians and our own military are right behind us. We’re going to win this, Fritz, and then everything will go back to the way it was.”
Except I didn’t want things to go back to the way they were. The way they were, I was married to Jutta and Cecilia was married to Müller. The way they were, Alois was my son. Elisabeth was not my daughter.
Miserable, I had my first drink, and at some point, in a haze, I looked up at the faces of my comrades and knew I could not join them. I needed to get out of these mobilization orders. I had to.
❖
When I awoke, I spit out dirt and faced a toad staring back at me and proceeded to vomit directly onto it. It struggled beneath the slimy bile, and I realized by what was leaving my gut that I needed to get food into me. When I rose onto all fours and was able to look around, I found I was in the ravine behind the privy, covered in filth. Vaguely, I recalled stumbling over to the edge and sliding down. Nearby was a creek. It took me a moment to grasp that nobody had found me, and I scanned the sky, trying to find the sun through the trees. When I did, it was clear that I had missed the assembly. Once more, my battalion had left me behind. This time I would not go searching for them.
This was the plan I’d had, wasn’t it? My hand was stinging, and I lifted it close to my face, squinting to examine it. My head throbbed, and I felt nauseated again. At the sight of all the blood on my hand, I vomited once more. No. I remembered now. My plan had been to injure myself, and like everything I did in my life, I had botched up the job. I had tried to saw off my pinky finger, and now all I had were several deep cuts across my palm. I must have passed out from the pain and loss of blood, on top of the alcohol.
I took myself to the creek on all fours, drank, heaved again, and finally managed to clean myself up enough to wrap up the hand. I needed medical attention and laughed at the thought. The Herr Doktor was not an option.
Suddenly, I remembered my rifle. All I had was the knife. I scrambled about in the bush, looking everywhere. I had learned to never be without it. I stopped searching for it after a while. After all, I had no choice but to pursue my next plan: desertion.
Cecilia was the only one I could go to.