Chapter 11 Chapter Nine Schweik in the Detention Camp

The internment camp was presided over by the trinity of Warden Slawick, Captain Linhart, and Sergeant Ripa nicknamed "The Executioner." No one knew how many people were killed by them in a single cell.As soon as Schweik was on his way, the warden Slavik thrust a big, fat fist under his nose, and said, "Smell, you fucking idiot." Schweik sniffed it, and said: "I don't want it to hit me on the nose, it smells like a grave." The guard was very satisfied after hearing this wise remark. "Hey, stand up straight," he punched Schweik in the stomach. "What's in your pocket? If it's a cigarette, you can put it here. Hand over your money before they steal it. Have you got all your stuff? Well, don't be naughty then, no lie, lie wants you little life."

"Where is he kept?" asked Sergeant Ripa. "Push him to Cell No. 16. Tell him to stay with those who wear vests and shorts." The chief warden decided.Then he said to Schweik with a sullen face: "Yes, the scumbag must be dealt with as a scumbag. Whoever makes trouble, he will be locked in a single cell. Once there, we will take his ribs Cut it all off, hit it once, and let him die. We have every right to do that. Ripa, what did you do with that butcher?" "Oh, that fellow gave us a lot of trouble, Warden," said Sergeant Ripa vaguely. "That's right, that kid is really strong. I stepped on him for more than five minutes before his ribs snapped and blood dripped from his mouth. Just like that, he lived ten years later. God. Whoa, that guy is really hard to deal with!"

"So you can see, you idiot, how we deal with anyone who makes trouble here, or tries to wander off," Warden Slavik concluded his lecture by saying: "Troubleshooting or deserting is tantamount to suicide, because it will kill you if you get caught. If you want to take the opportunity to make a complaint when the superiors send someone to check, God pity you." You mangy monkey. When someone checks, if they ask you what is not satisfactory, you have to stand at attention, you stinky beast, and salute. Then say: "Report sir, there is nothing to complain about, I am very satisfied. 'Okay, now you bastard, repeat what I said. "

"Sir, I have nothing to complain about, I am quite satisfied." Schweik repeated this with such a pleasing expression that the warden mistook it for a frank and sincere expression. "Okay, take off everything except the vest and panties, and go to Cell No. 16," he said. In Cell No. 16, Schweik saw twenty people all wearing vests and shorts. If their vests and shorts were not dirty, and if the windows had no iron bars, at a glance you would think you were in the changing room of a swimming pool. The sergeant handed Schweik over to the "prison warden," a shaggy man with an unbuttoned shirt.He wrote Schweik's name on a piece of paper hanging on the wall, and then said to him: "Tomorrow there will be a show. Someone will take us to church to hear the truth. We can only cling to the pulpit in vests and shorts. Standing below. It's a laughing stock."

Like all people in prison and reflection institutions, people in detention camps love church most of all.They don't care about whether this forced church will make them get closer to God or learn more morals. They don't think about such boring things.Attending Mass and hearing sermons did add a pleasant diversion to the dreary life of their internment camp.They don't care if they are close to God or not, but they are eager to find a lost cigar or cigarette butt in the hallway or yard. The reasoning on the stage sounds really enjoyable, how happy it is!Father Otto Katz was such an interesting man again.

His sermons became very attractive, amusing and refreshing in the dreary days of the internment camp.He could talk with gusto about the boundless grace of God, and cheer up the lowly prisoners, those who have lost their honour.He can swear from the podium with delightful words to listen to.He can recite Itamissaest on the altar with a majestic voice⑴ preside over the sacraments ingeniously, and make fun of the mass ceremony.If he drank a few extra drinks, he would make up a new prayer, a prayer book that had never been done before and was his exclusive use. Sometimes he was holding chalices ⑵, the Eucharist, or the Mass, and when he accidentally fell down, it was almost comical.At this moment he loudly reproached the group of prisoners who had come out to assist him in the sacrament, saying that they had deliberately tripped him up.Afterwards, those people were sentenced to single orders on the spot, or handcuffed and fettered.Those who were punished also found it amusing, because it was all part of the prison church drama.

Otto, the best of the priests in the army, was a Jew.His history is complicated.He went to a business school, where he learned the business of bills of exchange, and the law concerning bills of exchange.This knowledge allowed him to screw up his father's Katz Company within a year and go bankrupt.So the old Mr. Katz and his creditors agreed on a plan to deal with the aftermath, and went to North America, without telling the creditors or his partner that he had gone to Argentina. Therefore, when the young Otto Katz donated the Katz Company to North and South America without hesitation, he himself fell into nowhere.So he joined the army.

But before that, he did something extraordinarily noble: he was baptized.He prayed to Christ to help him in his career. He also passed the military officer exam.So Otto Katz, the newly hatched Christian, remained in the army.At first, he thought he would be promoted step by step, but one day he got drunk, and he became a priest after that. He never prepared before he preached, and everyone was eager to hear him preach.When the residents of Cell No. 16 were ushered into the church wearing vests and shorts, they were all very solemn.The lucky ones chewed on the butts of cigarettes they picked up on the road because they had no pockets to put them.The other prisoners in the camp stood around them, looking happily at the twenty men in vests and shorts below the podium.The abbe now climbed onto the platform.The heels of the Mazazi clang.

"Habtacht!" (3) he cried, "we come to pray. You read after me. Hey, you, you who stand in the back row, wild boar, don't blow your nose with your hands. You are in the palace of God, remember, you may Just behave yourself. You haven't forgotten the 'host text', you brigands! Well, let's do it again. Well, I know you can't pronounce it well." He stood on the podium, staring at the twenty angels of light in vests and shorts below, who, like everyone else in the room, were having a great time.People in the back row were playing dice. "It's not bad," Schweik whispered to someone nearby.It was a suspect, and it was said that he chopped off all the fingers of his comrade with an axe, so that the man could be released from the army.The fee is three crowns.

"You'll see later," the man replied. "He's got a lot of energy today. He's going to babble the thorny path of sin." Sure enough, the abbe was in very good spirits that day.He can't help but lean to the side of the podium, almost falling down. "I'm in favor of shooting you all, you bastards!" he went on. "You do not want to draw near to Christ, and you willingly walk the thorny path of sin." "Didn't I say it was going to happen soon? Look, he's very energetic today," the man next to Schweik whispered happily.

"The thorny road of evil, the way of wrestling with evil, you stupid scumbags. You are all prodigal sons, and you would rather hang around in a single house than return to the Father. But you Lift your head and look up far away, look at the high sky, you will overcome evil, and you will find peace in your soul, you bastards! Hey, stop the one in the back from snoring, okay?He is not a horse and this is not a stable - he is in the palace of God.I want your attention, my dear listeners.Well, where did I just say that?Remember, you beasts, you are human beings, you can dimly see the future through dark clouds, you should know that all things are passing clouds, only God is eternal.I should have prayed for you day and night, and begged the merciful God, you mindless bastards, to pour his soul into your cold hearts, and to wash away your sins with his holy love, to make you belongs to him.Ask him to love you forever, you scoundrels.But you miscalculated.I have no intention of leading you all to heaven. "Here the priest hiccupped, and he went on stubbornly, 'I won't even help my little finger, and I wouldn't even dream of meddling in your business, because you're hopeless rogues.Did you hear that?Hey, it's you guys, by the way, the ones wearing vests and shorts? " The twenty people in vests and shorts raised their heads and said in unison: "Report sir, I heard you." "It is not enough to hear," continued the priest. "The clouds of life are dark and dark. Even the smile of God cannot relieve your sorrow, you foolish bastards, because God's grace is limited. Don't you think that I am here to amuse you, to amuse you. You're having fun. I'm putting you all on the odd lot, you gangsters—I mean what I say. I'm wasting my time here, and I see what I'm doing for nothing. Actually, it's If the Grand Marshal or the Archbishop comes, you must be indifferent. You will not be close to God. But, sooner or later, you will remember me, and then you will understand that I want to help you." A sob was heard among the twenty people in vests and shorts, and it was Schweik.He cried. The priest looked down and saw Schweik standing there wiping his eyes with his fist.People around are happily admiring. The priest pointed to Schweik and continued: "You all follow the example of this man. What is he doing? He is crying. Today we saw a man who was moved to tears. He wants to change his heart. You What do the rest of them do? Nothing. There's a man over there chewing something, as if his parents raised him to chew cud; It's in the palace of God! You fucking bastards, you should be busy pursuing God first, before it's too late to touch the lice. I will stop here.You gangsters, I want you to behave yourself at mass, and don't be like last time, when a guy in the back row traded a government-issued shirt for food. " The priest stepped down from the pulpit and entered the sacristy, followed by the warden of the camp.After a while the warden appeared, walked up to Schweik, called him out of the crowd of people in waistcoats and shorts, and led him into the sacristy. The abbé sat at ease on the table, rolling a cigarette in his hand.Seeing Schweik come in, he said: "Yes, you are what I want. I have thought about it for a long time, boy, and I think I understand you. Since I came to this church, this is the first time anyone has heard me preach. shed tears." He jumped off the table and shook Schweik's shoulders."Then, you villain, confess quickly, you were only pretending!" The figure of St. Francis of Sarace seems to gaze at Schweik questioningly.In another hanging portrait, a martyr whose back was sawed through by Roman soldiers also stared at him in a daze. "Report sir," said Schweik solemnly, determined to put all his eggs in one basket. "I confess before the Almighty God and the venerable priest that I have just been pretending. I see that what you are preaching needs is a repentant sinner, and this is what you have been looking for. Therefore , I want to do you a favor and make you feel that there are still a few honest people in the world. At the same time, I can use this joke to make myself happy." The priest took a good look at Schweik's innocence.A ray of sunshine from St. Xeres.The sombre portrait of Francis flitted across, adding a warmth to that of the distraught martyr on the opposite wall. "Then I like you a little," said the priest, returning to the table and sitting down. "Which alliance do you belong to?" He hiccups. "Report sir, I belong to the Ninety-One and I don't belong to that regiment, do you understand? To be honest, sir, I don't know where I'm supposed to be." "Then what are you doing here?" asked the priest, continuing to hiccup. "Sir, I really don't know why I'm here, or why I'm so silent. I'm just unlucky. I think it's best in everything, but I'm always unlucky, like that picture The martyrs on the statue." The priest looked at the portrait, smiled and said: "Yes, I really like you very much, I must ask the military judge about you. No, I can't talk to you anymore. I must finish this mass." .Kehrteuch! Back to the team!" When Schweik returned to the group of fellows in waistcoats and underpants attending Mass under the platform, they asked him why the priest had called him into the sacristy, and he replied simply and simply: "He's drunk." All watched with great attention and undisguised approval the priest's new performance--the mass he presided. The congregation at the meeting admired the sacrificial vestment worn by the priest with an aesthetic taste, and they watched every move on the altar with a kind of eagerness. The red-haired deacon (a deserter from the 28th Regiment and an expert in theft) was searching his memory for the complete procedure and technique of the Mass in earnest.He is not only the priest's deacon, but also his addresser.The priest, calmly, uttering whole sentences and verses, and mistaking the festival, began to say the verses of Advent, to the great delight of all.He himself has neither a voice nor an ear for music.The roof of the church began to echo with thick and thin howls, like a pigsty. "He's got a lot of energy today," said those who stood by the altar contentedly. Now the priest is chanting Itamissaest for almost the third time on the stage, like the cry of the Indians.His voice rattled the windows, and then he looked at the saint again to see if there was any more wine.With a weary gesture, he said to the audience: "Well, it's over, you gangsters can go back. I see that in the church, before the most holy God, you are not doing what you should. Your godliness, you worthless bums. Next time you do this again, I will deal with you as you deserve. You will find that the hell I told you about a few days ago is not the only one. There is still another hell in the world. Even if you escape from the former hell, you still cannot escape from the latter. Abtreten!⑸" The priest went to the sacristy, changed his clothes, poured the consecrated wine from a wicker decanter into a beer glass, and drank it.The red-haired deacon helped him onto the horse tied in the yard.But suddenly he remembered Schweik.He dismounted and went to the judge-martial's office. Judge Bernice is a sociable person, good at dancing, and a very idle person.He was very bored with his errands.He kept losing the papers with the details of the prosecutions, so he had to make up new ones.He tried deserters for theft, and thieves for deserters; he invented all sorts of charges that no one could have dreamed of, and convicted them with unfounded evidence.He always put these charges and evidences on some people, the original documents of these people's charges have long been lost in the messy files. "Well, how are you doing?" said the abbe, shaking Bernice's hand. "Terrible," Bernice replied. "They made a mess of my files. Now the devil can figure out where the end is. Yesterday I sent all the evidence upstairs of a guy accused of mutiny, and now they're calling back , because, according to them, he was charged not with mutiny, but with stealing marmalade." Bernice spat in disgust. "Shall we play a game of cards?" asked the priest. "I've lost everything at cards. A day or two ago. We played poker with the bald colonel, and he won all my money. How's the priest?" "I want an orderly," said the priest. "Today I found a guy who was wiping away tears just to make fun of me. That's the guy I want. His name is Schweik, and he's from Cell 16. I want to know what crime he committed, can I Find a way to get him out." Boers began to search for official documents about Schweik.As usual, he found nothing. "It must be at Captain Lynhart's," he said after searching for a long time. "God knows how these papers got lost here. I must have given them to Lienhardt, and I'll give him a call right away. Hi-sir, this is Lieutenant Burns. I said, do you happen to have an official document about a man named Schweik? ...Shuaik's official documents must be in my hand?That's weird... I got it from you?That's no wonder.He's in cell sixteen. ... Yes, sir, I have all the papers from Cell 16.But I thought Schweik's papers might be circulating in your office... What?Shouldn't I be talking to you like that?Things don't 'swirl' around your office?Hello, hello..." Bernice sat down at the table, expressing his dissatisfaction with the sloppy investigation just now. He and Captain Linhardt had been at odds for a while, and both sides remained unchanged.If Burns received a file belonging to Captain Lienhardt, he would put it aside, and no one would find out anything.Lienhardt did the same with Bernice's dossier.They also lost the attachments in the file to each other. (Shuaik's official papers were not found in the files of the Military Court until after the war, and were included in the file on a Joseph Cordela. There was a small cross drawn on the outside of the envelope, and the words "had been Do" and mark the date.) "Then Schweik's file has been lost," Bernice said. "I'll call him here. If he can't commit any crimes, I'll let him go and transfer him to you to manage. After he returns to the team, you can do whatever you want." After the priest left, Burns ordered Schweik to be brought up, but when he was brought up, he was made to stand at the door, because he had just received a call from the police station saying: Indictment No. 72 on Private First Class Maxner The receipt for the necessary materials on the 67th has been received by the first department, and there is Linhardt's signature on it. At this time, Schweik took advantage of the situation to look at the military judge's office. He didn't have a good impression of that office, especially the pictures on the wall.Those were pictures of the military carrying out various executions in Galicia and Serbia.Some fine art photographs show burnt huts and trees with dead bodies hanging from their branches.There is a particularly fine photograph taken in Serbia of a whole family hanged: a young boy and his parents.Two soldiers with bayonet-loaded guns were guarding the tree on which the execution had been carried out, and in front of it stood a pompous officer with a cigarette dangling from his mouth.In the other corner of the photo, near the back, you can see a cooking team cooking. "Shuaike, what's going on with you?" Bernice asked, and casually put the note with the phone message in the file. "What the hell are you doing? Are you willing to confess yourself, or wait for someone else to tell? We can't keep procrastinating like this. You have to confess first if you want to avoid a severe but well-deserved sentence." "Then you confess nothing?" said Burns.At this moment Schweik was as silent as a grave. "Don't you tell me what crime you've been convicted of coming here? At least you should tell me before I tell you; I'll urge you again, confess your guilt! That's much better, because we'll It will save trouble, and your sentence will be lighter." The judge-at-arms surveyed Schweik's face and whole body with sharp eyes, but could not make sense of it.There was such an air of indifference and innocence about the man before him that he paced up and down the office in a huff.If he hadn't already promised Schweik to the priest, God knows what kind of bad luck Schweik would have met. At last he stopped by the table. "Listen," he said to Schweik.At this moment Schweik was staring indifferently into the air. "If I run into you again, I will definitely show you something. Take it down!" Schweik was taken to Cell No. 16, and Bernice called the warden Slavik. "Send Shuike to Mr. Katz and wait for instructions." He simply ordered. "Write out the papers for his release, and send two men to escort him to Mr. Katz." "Sir, should you put him in handcuffs and shackles?" The military judge thumped the table with his fist. "Bastard! Didn't I just tell you to write his release papers?" All the anger Burns accumulated from dealing with Captain Linhardt and Schweik that day poured down on the head of the warden like a waterfall.He finally said: "You are the biggest idiot I have ever encountered in my life!" This incident annoyed the warden.On his way back from the judge-martial, he kicked the prisoner who was being swept down the aisle to vent his anger. As for Schweik, the warden thought he might as well spend at least one more night in the camp and enjoy himself a little more. That night in the camp was one Schweik would never forget. Next door to Cell No. 16 is a cell, a dark secret cave.That night, I heard a soldier locked inside crying loudly.In order to violate a certain discipline, Sergeant Ripa broke the soldier's ribs on the order of Warden Slavik. In the aisle, the neat footsteps of the sentry could be heard.The hole in the door was opened from time to time, and the jailer looked in through the hole. At eight o'clock in the morning Schweik was taken to the office. "There's a spittoon to the left of the door leading to the office, and they throw cigarette butts in there," one told Schweik. "There's another one on the second floor. They don't sweep the aisles until nine o'clock, so you're sure to get something." But Schweik disappointed them.He didn't go back after he left Cell 16.Nineteen inmates in vests and underpants didn't know what happened to him, so they made all kinds of guesses. A garrison member with a particularly active imagination said: Schweik tried to shoot an officer, and that day he was taken to the motorcycle training ground to be executed. ------------- ⑴ Latin, meaning: "The mass is over, you can go." ⑵The holy chalice is a long-stemmed cup used to hold wine during mass. (3) German, meaning: "Stand at attention!" ⑷ St. Francis of Salles (1567-1622), the bishop of Geneva, was canonized as a "saint" by the Pope after his death. ⑸ German, meaning: "Leave the team!"