When he has gone, I remark—
"What a bouncer!"
The three of us sprawl at our ease over the six seats, posing as well-to-do persons off on a holiday.
We walk along the passage. A wounded corporal, belonging to Class 12, promises us victory, and is intoxicated at the prospect.
In reply to our questions, he says—
"You ask if we have got them? We're simply sweeping the ground with them! I killed one this afternoon, a sergeant. Here's his shoulder tab and his belt clasp. Read the words on it: Gott mit uns. What brazen effrontery!
"Just think, he was running away. I caught him up and gave him a dig with my bayonet between the shoulders. Then, do you know what the cur did? He actually turned round and wounded me. I gave him another thrust and finished him off.
"I could never have thought it would give one so jolly a feeling to kill a man."
After a moment's reflection—