When the corporal had gone off to his rendezvous, Frielinghausen was left in supervision of Room IX. The sergeant-major had arranged it thus, in order that from the very beginning the young man might become accustomed to responsibility. And the charge was quite an easy one. By evening none of the recruits had much inclination to make a noise or to get into mischief. All the day-time, from morning till evening, was occupied in the various branches of their duty; and the hours which then remained were completely filled up with the brushing and polishing of their clothes and accoutrements. It they could have done as they liked, they would have gone to bed directly after evening stable-duty; but that was not permitted until nine o'clock.
So when their cleaning up was done and they sat on their stools round the table, most of them would stretch their arms on the top and fall asleep; occasionally some one would scribble a few lines home. When bedtime came at last, none of them tarried; but, drunken with sleep, would tramp one after the other up the stairs to the dormitory.
Some, of course, were more fatigued by the work than others. Vogt and Weise were among those who got on best. Both were strong, healthy lads, and, moreover, not stupid; so that the theoretical instruction was as easy to them as the foot-drill, gun-practice, and gymnastics. To be attentive and quick--that was the chief thing.
Among the worst were Truchsess the fat brewer, the clerk Klitzing, and Frielinghausen.
The brewer, it is true, was a strong, powerful man, but far too slow in his movements. Klitzing, on the other hand, was too weak for the demands of the drill. It was impossible for him, in the gun-practice, to raise the end of the gun-carriage as "Number 3," or as "Number 5" to direct the pole of the carriage; in gymnastics he would hang helplessly on the horizontal bar; and even in the foot-drill it was difficult for him to stand up straight.
When Vogt advised him to report himself as ill he refused. "No, I won't go into hospital. Never!"
"I don't wish to," replied the clerk; and as Vogt insisted, he said, "Well, Vogt, I'll tell you: I should never come out again; I should die there."
And with a strained smile he added: "It doesn't matter where I die; but I shouldn't like it to be in hospital."