Part Four

Hans, the Old Soldier

Viggo was ten years old now. He no longer cared to become a viking when he grew up. To be an officer in the army was his one thought now; he would prefer to become a general of course, but if he couldn't be that at once, he would be satisfied to be a captain; he might become a general later. From whom do you suppose he had learned such things? From Hans, the old Grenadier.

Hans was Viggo's dearest friend, though he was cross and curt to other people. The servants on the farm often called the old Grenadier "Hans the Watchdog," for they said when he talked to anyone it sounded like a dog barking, and he looked as though he were ready to bite. But Viggo had once said that the Grenadier's voice sounded like the rattle of a drum, and the old soldier thought that was well said. It was really from that time on that Viggo and Hans were such good friends.

Hans the Grenadier was six feet-two, and a little more. He was broad shouldered and straight as a stick. His hair was long and snowy white, and it hung in a braid down his red soldier's coat.

When he came walking up to the farm from his little cottage he always carried the ax on the left shoulder, like a gun, and marched stiff and straight turning the toes well out, and kept step as if the sergeant was marching right at his heels, commanding "Left, right! Left, right!"

Hans wore yellow leather trousers, but suspenders he never used, so there was always a gap of three or four inches between the coat and the trousers where his shirt showed through, winter as well as summer. His hat was worn to a reddish-brown. It was wide at the crown and narrow at the brim, and there was a deep hollow in the top which filled with water when it rained. He always wore his hat a little on one ear. When Hans turned his toes out more than usual and put his hat too much on one side, the servants would say, "Both Hans the Watchdog and his goose pond are pretty well filled up to-day." And however much he disliked to, Viggo had to admit that this was a bad sign, for Hans had the sad fault of sometimes drinking a drop too much. But Viggo always knew that at such times Old Hans was most willing to tell about the time he served in the army, both in '88 and '89. Then he told of the battles at Kvistrum and at Lier, and first and last about the "Prince of Gustenberg"--it was Prince Christian of Augustenburg he meant.

"That was a man!" said Hans. "Such a face you never saw on any man. When he looked at you it was as if he would eat you in one bite. And such a nose between the eyes! You are looking at me, well, for a common soldier I have been specially well favored. But the Prince of Gustenberg he had a nose that shouted 'Get out of my way.' And therefore they did get out of his way too, wherever he showed himself. Such another man we've never had in Norway, neither before nor since his time. God bless him where he lies, and God punish those who laid him there!"

"Aren't you ashamed? The Prince of Augustenburg never swore, I'm sure," said Viggo.

"You think so, you little cub? But it is true, he never did," said Hans. "But that is because a general does not need to, it does not become him, but for the common man it is just as necessary as to drink whiskey."

This did not prove anything to Viggo, on the contrary he said it was a shame to do either.

"A shame?" said the Grenadier. "Do you know what the Prince of Gustenberg said when he spoke in front of the troops? 'One thing is a shame,' said he, 'and that is to turn your back before retreat is called.' And now you know what is a shame, my boy!"

Viggo understood well enough that it was no use to discuss such a matter with the old Grenadier, so he sat silent a little while.

"Have you never known a little boy to become a general?" he asked at last. "No, I haven't but I have known a drummer boy who became a sergeant. He was not much bigger than you; but that was a lively youngster! He could do everything you can think of. He could beat the drum equally well standing on his head or on his legs. There was one thing though that was very hard for him to do and that was to beat 'Retreat.' On the drill ground he knew it as well as his A-B-C's, but when he smelled the enemy's powder he seemed to forget all about it. The captain had to give him a rap or two before he could remember it again. But 'Forward March' he knew how to drum, he never forgot that, and sometimes he beat that instead of 'Retreat,' and when the captain got angry he made the excuse that he did not hear, the guns made so much noise about him, he said. Usually he wasn't punished either, because he had once saved the captain's life with a snowball."

"With a snowball?" said Viggo.

"Yes, I said snowball, you little cub, he did not use greater means. We were rushing up a hill with the enemy in front of us. It was in winter, with deep snow and thawing too. The captain and the drummer boy led the march, eight or ten steps in front of us. But as soon as they came to the top of the hill there stood the enemy in line. 'Aim!' commanded the enemy's officer and all the guns pointed right at the captain. Quick as lightning the drummer boy grabbed a handful of snow and made a snowball and, just as the blue-jacketed donkey opened his mouth to say 'Fire!' the drummer boy threw the snowball straight into the open mouth. He was speechless for a moment and stood there mouth wide open. Well then the rest of us arrived and we had a hot fight."

"Then was he made a sergeant?" asked Viggo.

"Yes, a while afterwards, when the Prince had heard of it. He was given the rank of a sergeant, and something better even than that. The Prince called him 'my son.' The Prince rode to the front. 'My son,' he said to the drummer boy, 'I understand you know how to stop the mouth of the enemy when he is about to talk too loudly. We will try what more you can do,' said he, and then the drummer became sergeant."

"It was too bad that they didn't make him a general," said Viggo. He stood there polishing his coat button, then he added half aloud, "Do you think I might become a general, Hans?"

"Well, well, listen to the spring chicken!" said Hans. "So it is general you want to be, cub that you are? Never mind, don't blush for that, it wasn't a bad question. But it is very difficult, for then you must learn much, oh very much."

"Mathematics, you mean?" said Viggo. "I have learned some of that already, and languages too."

"Yes, that is well enough, but you must learn much more, you must learn the commands and what is more, boy! you must learn to drill so that you don't make a mistake in a single movement; the gun must dance in your hands, and when you strike it it must sing like the dean in church when he sings 'Amen.' And you must march so stiff and straight that the balls fly past you, as soon as they see you."

Viggo did not know when he should learn all this, but Old Hans said that those things one learned in war.

"But if only war broke out again," said Viggo.

"Yes, you are right, my boy, if only war broke out! that was well said," agreed the Grenadier.

"Then do you think I might become a general?" continued Viggo.

"Who knows? But it is difficult. The eyes are not bad, you have the right expression. But the nose, no it has not the correct shape. But of course it may grow and curve in time," said Old Hans.

And that Viggo hoped too, and in that hope he learned to drill and march from his old friend, but he often looked in the mirror and wished with all his heart that the nose would curve a little more.