The men grinned at one another.
Two or three of the gunners got down and stood there, quite at a loss. They ought to load; yet the word of command, "Prepare for action!" had not been given. And how could they load when the seats and the limber-boxes were still locked, and when the gun was still covered?
The clever lieutenant had forgotten the word of command that should properly have been given before leaving the gun-park. And the best of it was that he didn't even now notice what was wrong.
Wegstetten, close at hand, kept quite still. He had taken his feet out of the stirrups and was swinging his short legs carelessly to and fro. His eyes flashed scorn as he looked at the hapless lieutenant.
"Well, Lieutenant Landsberg," he said, shrugging his shoulders, "if I were one of the men myself I shouldn't know what to do either."
The lieutenant raised his spotlessly gloved hand to his helmet and replied, "Yes, sir." But as yet no solution of the riddle had dawned on him.
Then at last the captain sat upright in his saddle, and his clear voice rang out over the battery: "Prepare for action!"
It put life into the men at once, and all set about their various duties with the utmost zeal.
Wegstetten turned to the subaltern, who stood stupidly looking on, and said, "Well, Lieutenant Landsberg, you may take over the command again now."
Truchsess, the brewer, as No. 4 of gun six, brought out the shrapnel very gingerly. How easily such stuff as that might go off!