The two gunners settled down very quickly, and nothing could prevent Franz from going round the fields the very first evening while his father milked and fed the cows. He had almost hoped to find something or other left neglected because he had not been there when it was put in hand. But no, his father had allowed nothing to go wrong anywhere.
And now in the company of the two young soldiers the old turnpike-keeper became quite a different creature. He realised suddenly that the quiet, sluggish peasant's blood had not quite replaced in him the old, quick-flowing blood of the soldier. He listened, fascinated, to the tales told by the two gunners about their soldier's life. How things had changed since his time! He could never hear enough about it all.
Then Franz came to tell of his reflections during the gun-practice: how through the fence he had seen the infantry battalion tormented with drill for hours at a time; how the dried-up looking major had foamed with fury; and how the poor devil of a private had been struck down bodily and mentally in the middle of it all.
Old Vogt quietly heard his son out, although he was burning to speak. Then he began: "Look here, youngster, you as a simple soldier can't understand it all. But depend upon it, this drill is the most important thing that every soldier must first be made to learn. For it alone teaches military obedience, soldierly subordination, discipline. It alone can give that unity which preserves a company from utter demoralisation if one of your horrible new-fangled shrapnel bursts among them. But for drill the cowards would turn tail without further ceremony, and take to their heels; and in the end even the brave ones would follow them. It is the drill that teaches them to stay on and stick together."
He held to it, in spite of all his son could say about what he had seen of the kind of drill that the troops were kept at.
"You could not have seen aright," said his father.
The elder Vogt would not allow his son to put his hand to anything in the afternoons. He always insisted on sending the two young fellows out by themselves.
"Be off with you, youngsters," he would say. "Take a walk, drink a glass of beer somewhere or other--whatever you like. Enjoy your few days of freedom!"
Then the two young men would march off and let the hot sun and the fresh air burn them and brown them. Vogt had shown his friend his favourite spot, whence they could look out over the river to the castle in the neighbouring town. There they lay in the grass.
The peasant felt impelled to get up every now and then. He was restless; he felt that he must keep looking at the fields that lay around them. But the clerk lay quite still in the short grass, and with blinking half-closed eyes gazed up into the summer sky.