Read The Undertaking for Free Online Page B

just didn’t go home much. That’s all there is to it.’
    ‘But you could have,’ said Faustmann. ‘Even for a day.’
    ‘I didn’t have a day to spare.’
    ‘An afternoon, then,’ said Weiss. ‘You could have taken your wife, just to check on everyone.’
    ‘I took her for one afternoon. That’s all the time there was.’
    ‘You had three weeks!’
    ‘It was busy.’
    ‘My parents were looking forward to seeing you,’ said Weiss.
    ‘I barely saw my own, Weiss. Anyway, it was my leave. Kraft should have organized his own.’
    ‘Like you did?’ said Faustmann.
    ‘Yes, Faustmann. Like I did.’
    Faber finished his cigarette, dropped it to the tractor floor and ground it into the metal with the toe of his boot. He lit another.
    ‘They must be disappointed,’ said Weiss.
    ‘Who?’
    ‘Your parents. Your father, especially. His teacher son.’
    ‘Damn it, Weiss, leave me alone. I’ve already done my penance.’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘I never collected my mother’s food parcel. I was bloody starving on the train.’
    ‘Nothing from your wife?’ said Faustmann.
    ‘Scraps from a mother-in-law who has a son of her own.’
    Weiss laughed.
    ‘Serves you right for putting your dick first.’
    ‘Let’s hope she was worth it,’ said Faustmann.
    ‘She’s much more beautiful than her photograph. The one you saw.’
    ‘I can’t remember it,’ said Weiss.
    ‘She’ll send another. I’ll show you then.’
    They fell silent and stared west, at the sun sinking into the horizon. Weiss shivered.
    ‘It’s cold,’ he said. ‘We should go back.’
    ‘What about the shower?’ said Faber.
    ‘Fuck the shower. We’re moving out in a couple of days, anyway.’
    ‘How do you know?’
    ‘That’s the talk.’
    ‘Have you reported to Kraus yet?’ said Faustmann.
    ‘No.’
    ‘You should.’
    He found Kraus cleaning shoes in the doorway of the house he had taken as his own. Faber saluted.
    ‘Ah, the honeymooner is back.’
    ‘Yes, Sergeant.’
    ‘You were a long time away. Longer than expected. How did you manage that?’
    ‘My father-in-law has connections, Sir.’
    ‘I see. Well, you’re back with us now, Faber. Eat and rest.
    We’ll be moving out in a couple of days.’
    ‘How much longer will it take, Sir?’
    ‘What?’
    ‘The war?’
    ‘A week? A year? Ask your father-in-law.’
    ‘He says Christmas.’
    ‘Go and eat, Faber.’
    He joined the line behind Gunkel, a butcher from Darmstadt, and Fuchs, the oldest among them and once a pupil of Faber’s father.
    ‘I don’t smell much fat,’ said Gunkel. ‘They must be pleased with us.’
    ‘We’re heroes,’ said Faber.
    ‘They’re feeding us to be ready for a Russian winter,’ said Fuchs.
    ‘But it’s almost over,’ said Faber.
    ‘Things are moving too slowly around Moscow,’ said Fuchs.
    ‘Berlin thinks that it’s almost all over,’ said Faber.
    ‘The boys up north don’t see it like that.’
    ‘You’re such a bloody pessimist, Fuchs.’
    Stockhoff, the cook, dug his ladle deep into the pot and drew up a large portion of meaty stew. A second soldier handed out two pieces of bread, both buttered, both fresh. Faber sat beside Weiss. He gestured at the butter, and at the sauce and meat.
    ‘Maybe Fuchs is right.’
    ‘He’s usually reliable. The radio operators talk to him.’
    ‘But I promised Katharina I would be back by Christmas.’
    ‘You promised Kraft you’d visit his mother.’
    ‘This is different.’
    ‘And what happens then?’
    ‘When?’
    ‘When this is over? When you go back?’
    ‘Her father said he would find me a job after the war. A good one.’
    ‘Doing what?’
    ‘Teaching, training.’
    ‘In Berlin?’
    ‘Yes. And around Germany. Around our new empire.’
    ‘I thought you’d be in Darmstadt all your life. Continue the great Faber teaching tradition.’
    ‘Things change.’
    ‘So I gather.’
    Faber chewed his meat.
    ‘It’s good. Better than anything I had in