Chapter 28 Bebra's Frontline Troupe

In mid-June 1942, my son Kurt turned one year old.Oscar, the father, treated this matter with a calm attitude, thinking to himself: It will take another two years.In October 1942, Greve the greengrocer hanged himself on a gallows so well formed that I, Oskar, have repeatedly listed this suicide as one of the solemn ways to die.In January 1943, there was much talk about the city of Stalingrad.Since Matzerath emphasized the name of the city as he had emphasized Pearl Harbor, Tobruk, and Dunkirk before, I was not concerned with the events in this distant city, but with my special Other cities learned about on the news broadcasts; for Oscar, the Wehrmacht reports and special news broadcasts were a kind of geography lesson.How else would I know where the Kuban, the Meuse, and the Don flow?Who better to explain to me the geography of the Aleutian islands of Attu, Kiska, and Adak than the exhaustive radio reports of events in the Far East?In this way, I learned in January 1943 that Stalingrad was located on the Volga River.However, I didn't care about the Sixth Army. I cared about Maria who was suffering from mild influenza at that time.

While Maria was recovering from the flu, the radio report continued its geography lessons: Rzhev and Demyansk.For Oskar, those two locations were still the ones he could find on any map of Soviet Russia as soon as he closed his eyes.Maria was well and my son Kurt had whooping cough.While I was trying to remember the elusive names of the hotly contested oases in Tunisia, little Kurt's whooping cough stopped and the Afrika Korps was finished. Ah, happy May!Maria, Matzerath and Gretchen Scheffler are preparing to celebrate little Kurt's second birthday.Oscar also thinks that the upcoming celebration day is more significant, because there is only one more year to wait from June 12, 1943.If I had been there, on Kurt Jr.'s second birthday, I would have bit my son's ear and whispered, "Wait a minute, you'll be playing the drums too soon." But here's the thing: 194 On June 12, three years, Oskar was no longer in Longfur in Danzig, but in Metz, the ancient city founded by the Romans.Yes, he left for such a long time. In the end, in order to be able to celebrate the third birthday of little Kurt with his family, he rushed back to the place he was familiar with on June 12, 1944. His hometown, which was not destroyed by bombing, has gone through hardships.

What business made me run away from home?Let me not go around the bush and say it straight!In front of Pestalozzi School, which has been converted into an air force barracks, I ran into my master Bebra.However, it is impossible for Bebra alone to persuade me to go on a long journey.Bebra's arm is on Laguna, Mrs. Rosweta, the great sleepwalker. Oscar came from Little Hammer Road.He had just visited Gretchen Scheffler, read a little "Battle of Rome" at leisure, and discovered from it that at that time, in Belisard's time, things were changing, people were already in the Victory was celebrated or defeat was endured at the confluence of rivers and at the base of cities over a considerable geographic area.

-------- ① Belissar (505-565), a Germanic, the commander of the Eastern Roman Emperor Justinian, fought twice in Italy with the East Goths in order to recover the Western Rome occupied by the barbarians. I walked through the Fröbel meadow, which in recent years had been transformed into a makeshift wooden camp of the Todt organization.My thoughts stopped at Tajina, where Narcesus defeated Totila in A.D. 552.My thoughts stayed on the great Armenian Nasses, not because he won a big battle, but what attracted me was the size of the commander.Nases is a deformed child with a hunchback, Nases is short, and Nases is a dwarf, a dwarf, and a person from Lilliputian.Nases may be a child with a small head, slightly bigger than Oscar, I thought so, and came to the gate of Pestalozzi School for comparison.I looked at several Air Force officers who had grown too fast and saw their medal belts, and I said to myself, Nases must not wear medals, he doesn't need this thing.At this time, the great commander himself was standing in the middle of the school gate, with a lady holding his arm.Why shouldn't Narcesus have a lady on his arm?They were coming towards me, small beside the giants of the Air Force, but at the center of those freshly baked heroes of pure air, shrouded in the atmosphere of history, very old; in this unique What is this whole barracks full of Totilas and Thayers, full of Ostrogoths as tall as trees, in front of the Armenian dwarf named Nases?Nases approached Oscar in small steps, and waved to Oscar, and the lady who was holding his arm also waved.Bebra and Mrs. Rosweta Laguna greeted me, and the Air Force stepped out of the way respectfully. I put my mouth close to Bebra's ear and whispered: "Dear master, I regard you as the great commander Nases I do. I rate this man much higher than I rate Belisar, the foolhardy wrestler."

-------- ① Toth Organization, an organization led by engineer Fritz Toth (1891-1942, later Minister of Armaments of the Nazis), responsible for the construction of military facilities such as the West Wall. ②Nasses (date of birth and death unknown), Armenian, Justinian's commander.In Italy, they successively defeated the East Goths whose kings were Totila and Thayer. ③Wordplay, referring to "Air Force Heroes".The German word "air force" is a compound of "air" and "weapon".Hereinafter, Air Force officers are referred to as the Air Force, which also contains a sense of humor.

Bebra waved her hand modestly to express her refusal.Laguna, however, likes my analogy.How beautiful her little mouth moves when she speaks! "I beg you, Bebra, is it true that he, our young friend, is so unreasonable? Doesn't Prince Eugene's blood flow in your veins? Doesn't he flow with the blood of Louis XIV? Doesn't he Your ancestors?" Bebra grabbed my arm and pulled me aside, because the Air Force was watching us all the time, staring blankly, which was annoying.In the end, a second lieutenant, followed by two non-commissioned officers, stood at attention in front of Bebra, because my master wore the captain's rank insignia on his uniform, and there was a piece of "Propaganda Campaign" printed on the sleeve. Text strips.The lads adorned with medals asked Laguna for an autograph and got her autograph.So, Bebra beckoned and let his official car drive over.We got in the car and had to listen to the enthusiastic applause of the Air Force as the car drove away.

Pestalozzi Street, Magdeburg Street, Army Meadow, we drove all the way.Bebra sat next to the driver.As soon as I arrived on Magdeburger Strasse, Laguna was already talking about my drums. "Have you been faithful to your drums, buddy?" she whispered in her Mediterranean voice, a voice I hadn't heard in so long. "Are you faithful in other respects?" Oskar didn't answer her, didn't bother her with his tedious affairs with women, but smiled and allowed the great sleepwalker to stroke his groin first. Drum, and then stroked his hands that held the tin drum with convulsions, and stroked it more and more like a southern European.

The car turned into the army pasture and followed the No. 5 tram track.At this time, I even answered her, that is to say, I stroked her left hand with my left hand, and she kissed my right hand with her right hand.The car had passed the Max Halberplatz, and Oscar couldn't get out of the car.At this moment, in the rearview mirror of the small sleeping car, I saw Bebra's light brown, alert old eyes observing our little movements.Laguna just held my hands, and I was about to break free so as not to hurt my friend and master.Bebra smiled in the rearview mirror, then avoided his gaze and began talking to the driver.At this time, Rosweta warmly squeezed my hands and caressed them. At the same time, she activated her Mediterranean mouth and started a conversation.It was addressed to me directly, sweetly poured into Oskar's ears, and then some practical things were talked about, and then the words became even sweeter, sealing off all my scruples and attempts to escape.We arrived at the Imperial Colony and headed towards the Women's Hospital.Rajina told Oscar that she had thought of him all these years, and that she still kept the glass I sang and dedicated to her at the Four Seasons Café.She said that although Bebra was an excellent friend and a good work partner, it was not conceivable to marry him; Bebra had to live alone, Laguna replied to my interjected question, she gave him all freedom , and he is the same, although he is quite jealous by nature, he has also understood that Laguna cannot be restrained over the years, and the kind Bebra, as the head of the front-line theater troupe, has almost no time to fulfill the obligations that should be fulfilled once married. obligation.However, this front-line theater company is first-class, and its performances can still be staged on the stage of the "Winter Garden" or "La Scala" in peacetime.And I, Oskar, with my untapped god-given talents, am I interested in trying him for a year?What's more, I'm old enough, she can vouch for it, but maybe I, Oscar, have other important responsibilities, or vice versa?That's even better, they left here today, just after their last afternoon performance in the Danzig-West Prussian Military District.Now they were going to Lothlingen, and then to France, and at the moment it was impossible to go to the Eastern Front, which they had just left, thank God.Luckily for me, Oskar, the East is over, now I am going to Paris, I must be going to Paris.Me, Oscar.Have you ever traveled to Paris?That's it, my friend!If Laguna can't seduce your drummer's hard heart, let Paris seduce you!let's go together! ①

-------- ①The original text of this sentence is Italian. As soon as the great sleepwalking girl finished speaking, the car stopped.The trees on Hindenburg Allee, green, Prussian, evenly spaced.We got out of the car and Bebra asked the driver to wait.I don't want to go into the Four Seasons Cafe, my mind is a little messed up and I need some fresh air.So we went for a walk in Steffen Park, with Kobula on my right and Rosweta on my left.Bebra spoke to me about the meaning and purpose of the campaign.Roswitha told me little episodes from the everyday life of the campaign.Bebra talked about war painters, war reporters, and his front-line theater troupe.Roswitha let the names of distant cities slip from her little mouth in the Mediterranean, and I had heard them all on the radio when reporting special news.Bebra talked about Copenhagen.Roswitha booed out of Palermo.Bebra sang Belgrade.Roswitha whimpered like a tragic actress: Athens.But together they talked ecstatically about Paris, assuring that that Paris would cancel out all the cities just mentioned.At the end, Bebra, speaking in an official voice, posing as the head of the front-line troupe and captain, proposed to me: "Please join us, young man, beat the drums, sing the broken monument wine cup and light bulb! In the beautiful France, the German occupying forces in the Paris of youth will thank you and applaud you."

Just for the sake of formality, Oscar asked for a period of consideration.I walked for half an hour among the green bushes in May, with Laguna on one side and Bebra, my master and friend, on the other.I pretended to be ruminating and racking my brain, rubbing my forehead and listening to the birdsong in the forest, something I had never done in my life, as if I was expecting some redbreast to give me answers and advice.When there was something in the green bushes that was particularly loud and attractive, I said: "Good and wise nature persuades me to accept your proposal, dear master. You can take me from now on." Considered a member of your frontline troupe!"

We then went to the Four Seasons Café, drank a cup of pale blood Mucha, and discussed the details of my escape from the family, but we didn't call it an escape but a departure. Outside the café we went over all the details of the planned operation.I then bid farewell to Laguna and Captain Bebra of the Propaganda Movement, who insisted that I use his official car.The two of them strolled down the Hindenburg Alley toward the city.The captain's driver, an older staff sergeant, drove me back to Langfurt as far as the Max Halbe Square, because I didn't want to and couldn't let the car go into the Rue de la Besse.Oskar arrived in a Wehrmacht official car, which would be a sensation in the neighborhood, too much and too inappropriate. I don't have much time left.Farewell visits to Matzerath and Maria's.I stood for a long time by the fence where my son Kurt was learning to walk, and if I remember correctly, I also had some fatherly thoughts, and I reached out to pet the little blond guy, but Kurt didn't. willing.Maria didn't refuse, she accepted my affection with a little surprise, although she was not used to it for many years, and she kindly stroked me.It is strange that I find it difficult to say goodbye to Matzerath.There was a man standing in the kitchen cooking kidneys in a mustard sauce, and he had developed an indissoluble bond with the cooking spoon, which was probably pleasant enough that I dared not disturb him.When he wanted to take something from behind and reached out to model on the kitchen table, Oscar walked towards him, picked up the small wooden board with chopped coriander and handed it to him.I still think that Matzerath held the small wooden board with parsley in surprise and ignorance for a long time.After I left the kitchen, he was still in a daze, because Oskar had never handed, held, or lifted anything to Matzerath before. I dined at Madame Truczynski's, had me bathed, and put me to bed.When she's in her duvet, snoring softly, I put on my slippers, take my clothes, and walk through the gray rat that's getting older and snoring. In the sleeping room, I struggled with the key to unlock the lock in the corridor, and finally turned the lock.Barefoot, only in pajamas, I climbed the stairs with my roll of clothes under my arm, to the laundry loft, into my hiding place, amidst the piles of roof tiles and people still piled up in spite of air defense regulations. Behind the bundles of newspapers there, I staggered over mounds of anti-aircraft sand and anti-aircraft buckets to find a shiny new drum that I had saved without Maria's knowledge.I also found Oscar's reading material: Rasputin and Goethe in one volume.Take these two writers I love too?Oskar puts on his clothes and shoes, hangs his drum around his neck, and sticks his sticks behind his suspenders, while he negotiates with his two gods, Dionysus and Apollo.The drunken god advised me to take no reading material, or just a pack of Rasputins; the extremely cunning and over-reasonable Apollo advised me to give up the trip to France altogether When he found out that Oskar had made up his mind to go to France, he insisted that I take a travel bag without holes to carry away every rational yawn Goethe had made hundreds of years ago.As for me, firstly because of my stubbornness, and secondly because I know very well that the book "Affinity" cannot solve all the problems of both sexes, I put Rasputin and his world of naked women wearing black stockings as well. Take it with you.Apollo strives for harmony, Dionysus for intoxication and confusion, Oscar a little demigod.He harmonizes chaos and intoxicates reason.Apart from his mortality, Oskar has one advantage over the gods who have been established since ancient times: Oskar can read books that make him happy, but the gods are always checking themselves. -------- ① Dionysus is the god of wine in Greek mythology.Apollo is the god of light and art. ②Demigod refers to the offspring born of God and man. One can get used to the smell in the kitchen of a tenement and nineteen tenants.I say goodbye to every flight of stairs, every floor, every name-plated suite door.Ah, Musician Mayne, they sent you back as ineligible for the service.You played the trumpet again, drank the gin again, and expected them to pick you up again--and they did pick him up, but he wasn't allowed to take the trumpet with him.Ah, Mrs. Carter, fat out of shape, whose daughter calls herself Miss Lightning.Ah, Axel Mischke, what did you trade for a whip?Mr. and Mrs. Wojwut, they eat rutabaga all the time.Mr. Heinart suffered from a stomach ailment, so he worked in the Shihau shipyard instead of serving in the infantry.The next family is Heinart's parents, who still have the surname Haimowski.Ah, Madame Truczinski, the mouse is sleeping soundly behind the door of the apartment.I put my ear to the door and listened to her creak.The little man, whose real name was Raizel, had been promoted to second lieutenant, although he had been required to wear woolen stockings since he was a child.Schlagel's son is dead.Ike's son is dead.Colin's son is dead.Clockmaker Raubshad is alive and still bringing dead clocks back to life.Old Hyland was alive and still hammering bent nails straight.Mrs. Schwerwinski was sick, Mr. Schwerwinski was healthy, but died before her.Who lives in the suite opposite on the ground floor?Alfred and Maria of the Matzerath family, and a little guy named Kurt who was almost two years old.Who leaves this big, breathing apartment in the dead of night?It was Oscar, Kurt Jr.'s father.What did he bring into the dark street?He brought his drums and his big thick textbooks.Why did he stop in front of a blacked-out house that believed in air defense, out of all these blacked out houses that believed in air defense?For here lives the widow Mrs. Greve.Though he could not attribute to her his education, he could attribute to her certain dexterity in conveying sensations.Why did he take off his hat before this dark house?For he was mourning Greve, the greengrocer, curly-haired, hook-nosed, who weighed himself and hanged himself.He still had curly hair and an aquiline nose after he was hanged, but the brown eyeballs that had sat absently in their sockets had protruded with excessive force.Why did Oscar put on his navy hat with a streamer again, and leave with his hat on and his boots on?Because he had agreed to go to the truck station at Longfurt.Did he come to the agreed place on time?he came. -------- ① Lightning girl, a term used by Nazi soldiers, refers to the female assistant of the signal soldier. That said, I arrived at the railway embankment near the underpass of Brunshoeffer Road at the last minute.I did not stop at Dr. Hollatz's clinic nearby.Although I said goodbye to Nurse Inger in my mind and sent greetings to the baker's home on Little Hammer Road, I did all this while walking. Only the gate of the Sacred Heart Church stopped me from walking in a hurry. It made me almost late.The church door was locked.Yet I can definitely picture the naked, pink Child Jesus sitting on the left thigh of the Virgin Mary.Here she is again, poor mother.She knelt in the confessional and poured all the sins of the Colonial Merchandiser into Father Wienker's ears, as she used to pour sugar into blue pound or half-pound sacks.Oscar knelt on the altar on the left, trying to give the drum to the boy Jesus, but the little guy didn't play the drum, and he didn't show me a miracle.At that time, Oscar swore an oath, and today, Oscar swore again in front of the locked church door: I will definitely teach him to play the drum.Not today is tomorrow!However, I was going on a long trip, so I changed my vows to the day after tomorrow, then turned around and turned the drummer's back to the church door, firmly believing that I would not lose Jesus, and then climbed the railway embankment next to the crossing, lost A few fragments of Goethe and Rasputin, but still took the bulk of my educational encyclopedia up the embankment and between the tracks.I staggered over the sleepers and gravel, and walked a stone's throw away, nearly knocking Bebra down who was waiting for me in my haste.It's so dark! "It's our Tin Player!" cried the Captain and Musical Clown.We reminded each other to be more careful, we groped through the railway and crossing points, got lost among the trucks that were adjusting the tracks, and finally found the train for the front-line personnel on leave, and the train was given to Bebra’s front-line theater troupe Reserved a special compartment. Oskar had taken the tram in the past, and now it was time for him to take the train, too.When Bebra pushed me into the carriage, Laguna, who was doing needlework, raised her head, smiled, and kissed me on the cheek with a smile.She was smiling, keeping her fingers on her needlework, and introduced me to two members of the front troupe: the acrobats Felix and Kitty.Kitty, honey-blond and a little gray, was attractive, about the same height as the lady.She speaks with a slight Saxon accent, which adds to her charm.Acrobat Felix is ​​the tallest in the troupe.He must be one hundred and thirty-eight centimeters tall.The poor wretch was troubled by his striking figure.The appearance of me who is ninety-four centimeters aroused his abnormal psychology even more.The acrobat's appearance bears some resemblance to a selected racehorse raised on high-grade fodder, so Laguna jokingly calls him "Cavallo" or "Felix Cavallo."Felix the acrobat wore the same army gray uniform as Captain Bebra, but only with the sergeant rank insignia.The ladies were also tucked away in army gray material cut into tourwear, which was simply too ill-fitting.The needlework under Laguna's fingers turned out to be a piece of army gray material that became my uniform.The fabric was donated by Bebra and Felix, and Roseweta and Kitty took turns sewing, cutting out more and more army-gray fabric until the jacket, trousers, and cap were all my size.It was impossible to get shoes suitable for Oscar in any clothing bureau in the Wehrmacht.I'm also happy to wear my own civilian lace-up boots instead of soldier's low boots. -------- ① Italian, meaning "horse". My ID is forged.The acrobat Felix proved himself to be quite adept at this delicate task.I failed to protest purely out of courtesy.The great sleepwalker asked me to pass me off as her brother.Specifically: Oscar Nello Laguna, born in Genoa on October 21, 1942.To this day, I've used a variety of names.Oscar Nello Laguna is one of them, certainly not the worst. off we go.The train goes to Metz via Stolp, Szczecin, Berlin, Hannover, Cologne.Berlin I saw nothing.We stayed for five hours.Naturally there was an air raid siren.We hid in Thomas' cellar.Frontline furloughers slumped like sardines under the vaults.We were not allowed in by the gendarmerie when there was an uproar.Several soldiers from the Eastern Front had seen the troupe's performance and knew Bebra and his troupe members.They clapped and whistled, and Laguna blew kisses.They asked us to play, and within minutes a makeshift stage had been erected at the bottom of what was once a vaulted cellar beer hall.It was hard for Bebra to refuse, especially when an air force major asked him to perform some good shows for the soldiers to feast their eyes on, with a sincere and exaggerated gesture.Oscar is about to make his debut in a real troupe show.Although I did not go on stage unprepared, on the train, Bebra rehearsed my show with me many times, but at this time I had stage fright, which gave Laguna another opportunity to touch my hand and coax me . The soldiers were so enthusiastic, and as soon as they brought our actor pack over, Felix and Kitty started their acrobatics.These two are rubber figures, they tie their bodies into knots, they keep getting in and out of their bodies, they wrap around their bodies, they take off a part of their body, and give her his, Giving him hers, exchanging this length or that, caused the crowded, stunned soldiers to experience excruciating pain in the limbs and muscular aches that lasted for days.While Felix and Kitty are still tying and untying knots, Bebra enters as a musical clown.He played the most popular tunes of those war years on the bottle from full to empty.He played "Erica" ​​and "Mama Qi, Send Me a Pony" and let "Hometown, Your Star" ring and shine on the bottle neck.But that wasn't exciting enough, and he whipped out his old brilliance and let "Jimmy the Tiger" roar through the bottles.It was a piece of music not only loved by the frontline leavers, but also by Oscar's discerning ears.Bebra performed several sets of magic tricks, although childish, but still popular.Afterwards, he announced the appearance of Rosweta Rajina, the great sleepwalker, and Oscar Nairo Laguna, the drummer of Glass Killer.The enthusiasm of the audience was really ignited by him, and Rosweta and Oscar Nello must succeed.I used rapid tap motions as the introduction to our performance, crescendo rapid taps to pave the way for the climax, and long artistic taps at the end of the show to elicit cheers.Rajina randomly called out a soldier or even an officer from the audience, and asked the old thick-skinned sergeant or the shy and arrogant officer candidate to sit down, and she would look at the heart of one or the other, and she could really see through their hearts.In addition to her ability to always tell the various dates on the military ID card, she also revealed to the audience the shady things in the private lives of the sergeant and the officer candidate.She spoke tactfully and wittily when revealing people's privacy, and at the end, gave each of those guys who were stripped naked as the audience said a bottle of beer, and asked the recipients to hold the bottle high so that everyone could See clearly, and then signal to me, Oscar Nello, that the drum beats rapidly with a crescendo, and the beer bottle shatters into pieces.This is child's play to my voice, no matter how difficult the task is.All that remains is the beer-splattered, stunned face of the scheming sergeant or infant cadet—then there is an eruption of applause, prolonged applause, mingled with a bombardment of the imperial capital noise. What we did was not world-class, but it entertained the soldiers, made them forget about the front line and their vacations, made them laugh out loud and laugh endlessly.The bomb fell on our heads, shaking and burying the groundguest and everything in it, the lights and backup lights went out, and everything fell to the ground in a mess.At this time, laughter still passed through the buried and suffocating coffin again and again. "Bebra!" they shouted, "We want to listen to Bebra!" The kind and stubborn Bebra responded, playing a clown in the dark, forcing the buried crowd to laugh together.When Laguna and Oskarnello were asked to perform, he exclaimed: "Laguna Laguna is very - tired, dear lead soldiers. Little Oskarnello needs to sleep too for the sake of the Greater German Reich and the ultimate victory." A little sleep!" She, Roswitha, hid beside me, terrified.But Oscar was not afraid, but still hid beside Laguna.Her fear and my guts join our hands.I searched her fears, she searched my guts.In the end, I got a little scared, and she got the guts.When I first drove her fear away and gave her courage, my manly courage was born a second time.My guts have lived through eighteen glorious years, and she, I don't know how old she is, or how many times she's lay like this in her well-trained fears that make me guts .For like her face, her small but well-rounded body bears no trace of time that has been buried.Committed to me is a timeless Rosweta, whose courage and fear have no time.She succumbed to my guts and lost her fear in the buried Thomas cellar during a major bombing of the Reich capital until the air defenses dug us up.However, people will never know whether the girl in this small country is nineteen or ninety-nine years old.It was easy for Oscar to keep silent, because he himself didn't know whether it was a courageous old woman who offered him a hug that fit his body size, or a compliant one out of fear. Baishun's girl.