To the Last Man - Jeff Shaara [77]
Ludendorff stared at the lieutenant for a long silent moment, the observers all standing straight. The officers gathered behind him seemed to hold their breath. The young man’s words echoed inside of him, we are prepared. Yes, we have been prepared for ten months. And this one young lieutenant understands more than anyone here. This fight has become . . . routine.
“My inspection is complete, Major. Lieutenant, your men may resume their observation.” Ludendorff looked at Baum now, said, “Major, you will accompany me back to division headquarters. As of this moment, Lieutenant . . . what is your name?”
“Krauss, sir.”
“Lieutenant Krauss, I am placing you in command of this battalion.” Ludendorff turned, saw wide-eyed stares on the faces of the other officers. “Surely, one of you has a paper and pencil.”
One man stepped forward, a captain who had yet to say a word. “Yes, sir. Please . . . here . . .”
Ludendorff took the pad and pencil from the man’s hand, wrote quickly, tore off a piece of paper. He looked at the captain, saw the face of a clerk.
“Take this to Major Baum’s headquarters. Inform the staff that each one of them will report to this post for instructions. Before sundown, I want every officer in the battalion to come here, to see this place, to understand what is happening here. Then, they will establish the new battalion command center wherever Lieutenant Krauss determines.” He looked at Krauss now, was pleased to see no change in the young man’s stern expression. “Lieutenant, do you understand that I am placing you in command of this section of the line?”
“Yes, sir. I do, sir.”
“Good. You will continue with your preparations, and inform division command of your location. You will encounter no resistance from any other officer. However, since this is not the appropriate responsibility for a lieutenant . . .” He took another piece of paper, another note. “When I return to your division headquarters, I will make the appropriate changes. You will receive new orders, and your promotion, within hours.”
He looked at the other officers, focused now on Baum, who stared at him with stunned disbelief.
“There is one kind of officer who wins a war, Major. He is the man who knows what is happening around him. In the event you did not comprehend what has just occurred, I am relieving you of this command. I have no patience for uncertainty, and no tolerance for bluster. No officer anywhere on this ground should feel pride in what this army has accomplished here. We had a plan, a grand strategy that has failed. If this army ever marches into Paris, they will be led by officers who have earned their victory.”
He spun around abruptly, startled the officers, did not wait for his escort to form, moved quickly past them. He stepped back into the muddy trench, the smells engulfing him again. He ignored the troops, the men who stood to the side, word of his presence known to them now. Behind him, the officers scrambled to keep up, boots thumping on sagging timbers. He glanced up to the parapet, to the men with rifles, most not looking at him, men staring out across the desolate landscape, waiting for the enemy to come forward yet again, waiting to endure more of their routine. He felt a heat rising in his brain, could not march quickly enough through the trench, thought only of headquarters now, the new job in front of him, all that must be done. He had always despised Falkenhayn, cared little that the man felt the same about him. But Falkenhayn was gone, and the stain of his failure must be erased as well. No, it is our time now. And the first thing we must do is rid ourselves of routine.
HE HAD LEFT ORDERS AT THE DIVISION HEADQUARTERS, NO ONE arguing, even Baum accepting some vague new office assignment without comment. He had met briefly with his host, Crown Prince Wilhelm, the kaiser’s oldest son, an unusually efficient commander for a man whose credentials came mainly from his birthright. Wilhelm had been put in command of most of the southern army group that faced the French, and despite the blunders