Vorn und Hinten... (Full title below)

Vorn und Hinten, Слева и Справа

A NOTE ON RANKS: The ranks will be abbreviated before each name. The table is as follows.

GERMAN
S.-Schütze-Private
Gfr.-Gefreiter-Corporal
Fldw.-Feldwebel-Sergeant
Hptm.-Hauptmann-Captain

RUSSIAN
R.-Ryadovoy-Private
Yefr.-Yefreitor-Corporal
Srz.-Serzhant-Sergeant
Strsh.-Starshina-Sergeant Major
Pol.-Polkovnik-Colonel

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Germans

Schütze Heinrich Freiss: A fun-loving guy from the North. Loves beer. Is best friends with Friedrich.

Schütze Reinhard Friedrich: A similarly fun guy from the South. Loves Schnapps. Is best friends with Freiss.

Schütze Alexander Teuber: Though willing to engage in banter just as much as any other Schütze, Teuber is more thoughtful and is less inclined to ridiculous antics.

Gefreiter Paul Steiner: An overly strict and by-the-books corporal, he’s only recently been transferred to the front and is trying far too hard to move past Gefreiter. He’s not terribly popular.

Feldwebel Heinz Fischer: Though the Feldwebel prefers sleep to anything else, he’s not a foe to be taken lightly. A veteran of business and the Reichsheer, he knows very well how to command. Some even say his sleeping is an elaborate act. Those who listen to him snore know better.

Hauptmann Frans Eicholz: Extremely strict, he takes no nonsense from anybody. He has no empathy and no weakness. However, he’s old and his voice is shrill.

Gefreiter Adolf Spitzer: A burnt-out courier who would like nothing more than an end to all brass.
Russians

Ryadavoy Artyom Vasily: Little more than a boy, what Vasily lacks in experience he makes up for in exuberance.

Ryadavoy Piter Zhukov: Zhukov is the proverbial wise elder, even though he’s barely twenty-eight. However, he prefers vodka to wisdom.

Ryadavoy Pavel Pyoterskaya: Pyoterskaya is the squad’s resident jokester. Nobody is spared from Pyoterskaya’s cracks except perhaps the Starshina.

Yefreitor Edward Lyubov: Lyubov compromises for his enormous size and great strength with an air of warm friendliness and an English first name.

Starshina Ivan Chyornov: Patriotism comes before all for Chyornov. Anything less than praise for the glorious Red Army is taken as an insult. However, he does have his human side.

Polkovnik Antonin Dubov: A needlessly cruel and staggeringly useless colonel who gained his commission via the Communist Party rather than effort.
Serzhant Vladimir Alexendrej: A very loyal and very good soldier, who has luckily retained his humanity through his rise in rank.


SETTING: The frozen fields of Russia.

TIME: Winter, 1943.
SCENE ONE: WAR IS HELL AND OTHER SURPRISING FACTS - NIGHT

(Lights up on stage left, the GERMAN CAMP. Three Zeltbahns [a specific type of German tent, shaped like a pyramid] and one larger tent comprise the camp. The three privates are sitting around a fire in the front.)


S. Freiss
So, does anyone know when we're supposed to move out?

S. Friedrich
No. The Feldwebel hasn't said a word since we left the last town.

S. Freiss
And that's unusual?

(This elicits a chuckle)


S. Teuber
You said it...but I must admit, it's making me a little nervous. Do you think we’ll be getting new orders anytime soon?


S. Freidrich
What, you think those guys back in some cushy Polish office care about what happens to us? They're probably busy getting Polish girls with their nice starched uniforms.


S. Teuber
Wait, wait. Do you mean we're supposed to STARCH this?


(Another chuckle. Another soldier sticks his head out of a tent. This is Gefreiter Steiner, newly promoted and trying far too hard to advance further up the rank ladder.)


Gfr. Steiner
Keep it down! Can't a man get any sleep around here?


S. Freiss
Oh come on, Steiner! We'll probably all be shot by Russians tomorrow, let us have our fun.

Gfr. Steiner
First of all, your insolence will not be tolerated! I am to be addressed as Herr Gefreiter!


S. Friedrich
Oh, take the boot out of your ass, Steiner. We aren't in the Fatherland anymore.


Gfr. Steiner
Insolent pig! I will have your head on a plate for this!

S. Freiss
Why not your own? It’s easily the fattest.

(Gefreiter Steiner fumes, but can’t come up with a retort. He retreats to the safety of his tent. The soldiers all share a good laugh, but as the fire dies down, the mood turns to contemplation and quiet thought.)

S. Freiss
Ach, I miss my little Magdalena. Such a beautiful little flower.

S. Freidrich (with a wink)
Well, let's hope we all live long enough to see her.

(Another laugh, which dies quickly in the face of the night.)

S. Teuber
I wonder where the hell those damned Russians are now...


(To the sound of whistling wind, lights go down on the German camp and come up on the RUSSIAN CAMP, on stage left. It is very similar to the German camp, with three poncho tents and one squad tent. The three Russian privates are also sitting around a fire.)


R. Vasily
So, what about those Germans, eh?

R. Zhukov
Those bitches are probably nice and warm right now.

R. Pyoterskaya
Pah, are you stupid, Zhukov? Not even Stalin is warm!

R. Zhukov (Jokingly)
Shh, quiet down! he might hear you.


(Chuckles all around)

R. Vasily
What bullshit this is, sitting here in the snow waiting to be shot. I'd rather be home with vodka and a girl.

R. Pyoterskaya
What, a girl? What the hell is that? (mockingly) There is only the Red Army!

Voice
And you would do well to remember that, Pyoterskaya!!


(The VOICE is revealed to belong to Starshina Chyornov, an incredibly strict and patriotic soldier of the Red Army. He strides out of his tent and looks accusingly at his men.)


R. Pyoterskaya (innocently)
Who, me? Why, I haven't said a thing!


Strsh. Chyornov
Disrespecting the glorious Red Army, and then lying? You should be shot immediately, here and now!


(There is a pause for the effect to sink in. The soldiers lose their jocular air and assume the air of one who is weary with burdens heavy and large. After a minute, Pyoterskaya stands slowly.)

R. Pyoterskaya (slowly and painfully)
May I be permitted to take care of the job myself, Comrade Starshina?


(Strsh. Chyornov is surprised. He hadn’t meant what he said, and this outcome was wholly unexpected to him.)

Strsh. Chyornov
What? I...
(He masters himself)


Strsh. Chyornov
Excuse me. I mean, Pyoterskaya! You have proven yourself. Your motivation and willingness to die for the cause speaks volumes about your dedication to the Motherland. You may live.


(Chyornov turns away. Vasily and Zhukov are shocked.)


Strsh. Chyornov (over his shoulder, as an afterthought)
However, I expect extra out of you for the next month! Am I understood?


R. Pyoterskaya (surprised)
Y-Yes, comrade Starshina. Understood.


Strsh. Chyornov
Good.


(He enters his tent and the light inside switches off. The troops sit in silence for some time.)


R. Pyoterskaya
You know, if he had said yes I was just going to run for it.


(With a howl of wind, we are back with the Germans.)


(The scene looks colder and darker. The fire is out, the wind whistles more frequently. Schütze Teuber stands alone at attention. He clutches his rifle like he's about to lose it.)

S. Teuber
Just my luck to be on night watch tonight, isn't it? The coldest night we've ever had, and I have to stand around jumping at sounds watching for Russians, who are probably all snug in their beds! Fucking shit!


(He marches a few steps to the left, then stops and looks back at the audience.)

S. Teuber
And I bet one million Reichsmarks I'm going to catch a cold out of this, too.

(Lights up on the Russian side. Ryadovoy Pyoterskaya stands watch.)


R. Pyoterskaya
I suppose night watch is to be expected after what happened before, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. I wish the Starshina didn't care quite so much about the "beloved and glorious Motherland."

(He prances about as he says that, mockingly characterizing the Starshina.)
R. Pyoterskaya
I'll bet one million rubles that the Germans are all sound asleep anyway. Fucking shit.

(A particularly violent gust of wind. Then... )


(Lights up on German side. Teuber lets out a violent sneeze.)


(Lights return to Russian side. Pyoterskaya springs into action.)


R. Pyoterskaya
Shit! Something just sneezed!


(Lights on Germans.)


S. Teuber
What the hell? Something is out there!

(Lights alternate between both sides roughly every two seconds. We see both soldiers approaching the wall slowly, with their rifles forward. Suddenly, lights up- they’ve run into each other around the corner of the wall! They sit on the ground for a minute, then upon realizing who each other are, they spring up.)

Both together
SHIT!

S. Teuber
Filthy Communist!

R. Pyoterskaya
Fascist swine!

S. Teuber
What are you doing, snooping around our camp?

R. Pyoterskaya
What are YOU doing, snooping around OUR camp?

S. Teuber
Don't play dumb with me, you disgusting pigdog! Communist spies are offered no mercy!


R. Pyoterskaya
Look at your hypocrisy! (Overly pompous, almost another imitation of his Starshina) Fascist spies deserve no quarter and are given none!


(A pause. Teuber is trying to keep from smiling and failing. He gives in, and breaks down into a laugh. Pyoterskaya is attempting to maintain the air of an offended Communist, which just makes him look even more comical.)


R. Pyoterskaya
Stop laughing! The Motherland's glorious dispensation of justice is no laughing matter!


(This only makes Teuber laugh harder.)

R. Pyoterskaya
The glorious and mighty Motherland will dispense justice upon your scum-filled Fascist hide, and yet it will be generous! Generous beyond all ideals! You will be ever thankful to the Great, Mighty, Powerful, Glorious Motherland, the Soviet Union!


(Yet the illusion is beginning to crack, and towards the end of his speech he too is trying to suppress a smile.)

R. Pyoterskaya (despairing slightly)
Come on, it can't be that funny, can it?


S. Teuber (wiping his eyes)
No, it's just...you remind me of the brass back home. So pompous and silly.

(He proceeds to adopt a pompous and silly air of superiority.)


S. Teuber
Soldaten of the great and powerful Third Reich! Today, you fight for the salvation of Germany, and the lands of the Reich! You go forth to serve the Reich, and to fight for the ever-strong Fatherland! To arms!


(He finishes his speech off with an overly dramatic Nazi salute, almost bending over backwards.)


S. Teuber
HEIL...


(A pause, as we wait for the dreaded dictator's name. Suddenly, he drops his arm and resumes his normal position.)


S. Teuber
...what was his name again?


(The two enemy soldiers look at each other, then they both burst out laughing, brought almost to tears by how utterly ridiculous their leaders are.)


R. Pyoterskaya
You know, for a fascist swine, you're decent.

S. Teuber
I could say the same to you, you communist pig.


(They chuckle again as, with another howl of wind, the stage goes to black.)



SCENE TWO: BUREAUCRACY AT ITS "FINEST"


(We now see a rear-line Schreibstube on stage left, staffed with impeccably clad soldiers sitting behind typewriters eagerly clicking away. Now and then we hear a sporadic "ping!" as the soldiers reset their typewriters.)


(Behind them, at a raised desk, sits Hauptmann Frans Eichholz, a strict and no-nonsense leader. He is looking through papers the soldiers below are passing him and grunting periodically, throwing in an occasional “Really?” or perhaps a “Wow.” as the lights come on.)

S. Stolzmann
Train itinerary request requires your signature, Herr Hauptmann!

S. Nieblig
If you could initial these travel passes, Herr Hauptmann...


Gfr. Vogel
Herr Hauptmann, the 653rd Sicherungsregiment [Security regiment] is requesting ammo and cold weather gear!



S. Stolzmann
6th Panzergrenedieregruppe [Armored grenadier group] reports Solnechnaya is clear of enemy presence, Herr Hauptmann.


(The following lines are mandatory.)


(We hear a bang, and a dirty, tired messenger, Gefreiter Spitzer, comes in with a bag of papers and mail.)


Gfr. Spitzer (saluting)
Good day, Herr Hauptmann-


Hptm. Eichholz (not looking up from his desk)
Gefreiter, the state of your uniform is a disgrace to the Reich. How has it become so filthy and bedraggled?


Gfr. Spitzer
Sorry, Herr Hauptmann, there was a rainstorm on the way from the front and I fell off my bicycle.


Hptm. Eichholz (shouting, slamming his hand on the desk)
Gefreiter Spitzer! (The Gefreiter jumps.) Whatever has happened on the way from the front, that is no excuse for disgracing the uniform of the Third Reich! The uniform of a soldier is to be valued above all else, as YOU are the representative of the Fatherland in foreign lands, and you must uphold that image! Am I understood?

Gfr. Spitzer
O-Of course, Herr Hauptmann.


Hptm. Eichholz
Good, good. Then put down your bag and get out.


(A moment. Gfr. Spitzer does not move.)


Gfr. Spitzer
Er...Herr Hauptmann...


Hptm. Eichholz (dangerously)
WHAT is it, Gefreiter Spitzer?


Gfr. Spitzer
W-well, it’s just that there are two more bags on my bicycle, sir.
(There is a very tense moment.)


Hptm. Eichholz (Slowly and deliberately, barely restraining his anger)
Then go and get the bags, Gefreiter Spitzer.

Gfr. Spitzer
Jawohl, Herr Hauptmann!


(Spitzer runs out, returns a moment later with two huge bags of dispatches.)


Gfr. Spitzer
That's all, Herr Hauptmann.


Hptm. Eichholz
Good. Now (he leaps to his feet) DO SOMETHING ABOUT YOUR FILTHY UNIFORM!


(Gfr. Spitzer, without waiting to be dismissed, runs out. The Hauptmann is seething. The other soldiers in the Schreibstube are staring at him in awe. After a minute, he turns angrily to them.)


Hptm. Eichholz
WELL??
(The Schreibers spring into action processing the bags of mail.)

Hptm. Eichholz (musing)
Where has all the respect for regulation gone? Every day the soldiers come back from the front filthier and filthier, more and more disrespectful. It's disgusting! (With an air of absolute authority and finality) Regulations are made to be upheld!

(The clacking of typewriters brings the scene to darkness.)



SCENE THREE: COMMUNIQUÉS, DEBRIEFS, LETTERS AND DESPATCHES


(We see the wall again. Ryadovoy Pyoterskaya and Schütze Teuber are now sitting against it, sharing a cigarette. The lights should get gradually brighter during this scene, signalling the approach of day.)

S. Teuber
...so I've heard some guy in the rear just received a Wound Badge.

R. Pyoterskaya
Oh? For what?

S. Teuber
Paper cut, sustained while operating a hostile typewriter.

(Pyoterskaya laughs.)

R. Pyoterskaya
I believe some general awarded himself an Order of Suvorov for moving an entire division twenty feet to the left.

(Teuber chuckles.)

S. Teuber
You know, I think I know why all the officers have medals.

R. Pyoterskaya
And what's that?

S. Teuber (after a drag on his cigarette)
Body armor.

(They both laugh, harder than before. Unfortunately, something rustles from the German side.)

S. Teuber (whispering)
Shit, someone's awake! Get out of here!

(Pyoterskaya, not needing to be told twice, rushes away. Teuber springs to his feet, and lights dim on the Russian side.)

S. Freiss (yawning and stretching his arms)
Morning, Teuber! Anybody shoot you?

S. Teuber (trying to sound bored)
No, but in this weather I wish they would.

(Freiss chuckles)

S. Freiss
You always were a funny one. Do you know where the water cans have gone?

S. Teuber
Last I saw they were over by the fence.

S. Freiss
Thanks a lot. I've really got to shave before any of those damn brass show up.

S. Friedrich (from inside his tent)
What, brass out here? Has the world flipped upside down?

S. Freiss
Oh, get up, you lazy idiot. Smell the fine Russian air!

S. Friedrich (emerging from his tent)
And what does that smell like?

S. Freiss (who has moved to stage right by this time)
Like shit! (Sound of a bicycle bell) Hey, look! A courier’s coming! (As the Germans rouse themselves, Gefreiter Spitzer rides in on his bicycle, obviously exhausted and even more mud-splattered than before.)

Gfr. Spitzer
I have a despatch for your commanding officer! Where is he?

Fldw. Fischer
Right here.

(As he says that, Feldwebel Heinz Fischer steps out of his tent. He looks like anything but a Feldwebel, unshaven, rumpled and bleary from sleep, and (if at all possible) fairly chubby. However, as we shall see, he is more than capable as Feldwebel.)

(Spitzer is dumbfounded by his appearance. He looks him up and down, and, as he will learn to regret, says:)

Gfr. Spitzer
Is this some kind of a joke?

(The Feldwebel instantly shakes off the cobwebs of sleep and front life and assumes an air of one who is comfortable in authority.)

Fldw. Fischer
Is that the way you usually greet Feldwebels, Gefreiter?

Gfr. Spitzer (realizing his mistake)
Um, no, Herr Feldwebel. I just-

Fldw. Fischer
And, upon running into a Leutnant [Lieutenant], do you ask him if he is play-acting?

Gfr. Spitzer
I, er, uh-

Fldw. Fischer
And, if you ever happened to meet a General [Pronounced with a hard G], would you, perhaps, ask him if he is a woman?

Gfr. Spitzer (with a gasp of embarrassment)
No, never Herr Feldwebel!

(The Feldwebel looks at him with the air of someone who had just pulled off a private joke.)

Fldw. Fischer
Good! Very good. I just wanted to make sure. (He gives the Gefreiter a friendly grin.) Now, you had something for me?
(The now exceedingly embarrassed Gefreiter fishes out a large sealed envelope, which the Feldwebel proceeds to open neatly with his thumb and remove the contents.)

Fldw. Fischer
Ah, brilliant! Apparently, we are going to be staying exactly here for the next week, holding this same damn position! Thank you, Gefreiter, for utterly wasting my time.

(The Feldwebel reenters his tent and, by the sound of snoring, has gone back to bed.)

Gfr. Spitzer (taking off helmet and wiping his brow)
That was embarrassing!

S. Friedrich
To be fair, you were exceedingly rude.

Gfr. Steiner (who has by now woken up at full pomposity)
How dare you speak in such an insolent way to a Gefreiter! You should be ashamed of yourself!

(There is a moment. The filthy Gefreiter Spitzer looks tiredly at the clean and overly snobby Gefreiter Steiner)

Gfr. Spitzer
What, do you have a boot in your ass or something?

(Amid the peals of German laughter, the scene switches to the Russian side of the stage. Ryadovoy Pyoterskaya and Ryadovoy Zhukov are drinking coffee.)

R. Zhukov
...and I really did hit him with that chair, too. What the shit was he thinking, insulting my girl? Fucking bitch.

R. Pyoterskaya (laughing)
Sounds like a real piece of work, that guy.

R. Zhukov
Eh, last I heard he'd blown himself up with a malfunctioning still. Fucking Siberia. (Looking around, philosophically.) I could really kill for some vodka.

A loud, friendly voice
Never fear, your favorite Yefreitor is here!

(We see the voice belongs to Yefreitor Lyubov, a large, friendly man, sporting a full beard despite regulations. He emerges from his tent brandishing bottles of vodka.)

Yefr. Lyubov
Never fear, there's plenty to go around!

R. Zhukov
Lyubov, you deserve to be named Hero of the Soviet Union.

R. Pyoterskaya
Several times over.

Yefr. Lyubov (chuckling)
No, no, comrades! It's my pleasure! What is a Russian without his vodka?

R. Pyoterskaya
As usual, Lyubov, you hit the nail on the head.

Strsh. Chyornov (from his tent)
Pyoterskaya, I will hit YOU on the head if you don't shut up!


R. Pyoterskaya
Sorry, Comrade Starshina!

Yefr. Lyubov (leaning in and whispering)
And now you know! A Russian without his vodka, everyone.

(The Russians share a chuckle. Suddenly, another soldier enters, a bag of mail bouncing at his side. This is Serzhant Alexandrej, the Russian courier.)

Srz. Alexandrej
Comrades! Where is your leader? I have important news for him.

Yefr. Lyubov
He is indisposed, but I can take your message for him.

Strsh. Chyornov (sticking his head out)
I am NOT indisposed!

(He’s wearing a hot-water bag on his head and looks completely ridiculous. All soldiers stare at him uncomfortably.)

Strsh. Chyornov
...but you can take the message anyway, Yefreitor Lyubov.
(He retreats to the tent.)

Srz. Alexandrej (obviously relieved to be speaking to the
Yefreitor instead)
I have orders and a letter for the unit, Yefreitor.

Yefr. Lyubov
Thank you, comrade Serzhant. (He takes them and opens the orders.) Alright, comrades! We're moving out...
(The privates smile.)
...in four days.
(The privates return to their former positions of glumness.)
Did you get that, comrade Starshina?

Strsh. Chyornov
(sneezes)
Yefr. Lyubov
Good, he says ok. Would you like to have a drink, comrade Serzhant?

Srz. Alexandrej
Erm... Yes, that sounds good. I don't have to go back to command for a while.

Yefr. Lyubov
Good! Oh, yes, and the letter. (Shouting) Vasily, you lazy bag, get out here! Letter for you!

R. Vasily (from tent)
Alright, keep your beard on! I'm coming! (Soon emerges and takes letter. As he opens and reads it, his expression turns from one of bleary just-awokenness to one of utter despair.)

R. Pyoterskaya
Vasily...is everything alright?

R. Vasily (barely keeping it together)
It's my mother...sh-she...(takes big breath)...She and my baby sister were hit by a car. Neither is expected to...to live.

(Feeling the loss, the whole squad moves to comfort him. Starshina Chyornov rouses himself and steps out of his tent to see what was happening.)

R. Vasily
Wait, there's a bit more. (Obviously emotional, he quotes from the letter.) "Your brother, ever the commissar, doesn't want me to write this part, but I figured you should know. The car that struck Mama and Olya was...an Army staff car. It didn't even stop. Please, son, come back alive. Yours, Papa." (After a moment, he crumples the letter in a rage, tears streaming down his cheeks.) Whoever did this to my family, I will find you, and I will assuredly kill you! DO YOU HEAR THAT, YOU FAT REAR-LINE FUCKER?! I WILL KILL YOU!

(The rest of the squad remains where they are, dumbfounded, but Starshina Chyornov steps forward. He puffs out his chest, as if to deliver another tirade against this disrespect against the Red Army. The squad winces. However, he instead, after an awkward pause, suddenly deflates, and looks much more human.)

Strsh. Chyornov
I would be honored to…(he takes a deep breath, unused to such statements)...to help you, Ryadovoy Vasily.

(As the entire squad stares at him in shock, he returns to his tent, but not to sleep. We hear the sounds of furious scribbling. Vasily sinks to the ground, the very picture of broken. The other privates and Lyubov kneel beside him. Serzhant Alexendrej reluctantly turns away, readying himself for the long walk back to base. However, he looks back for one moment at Vasily.)

Srz. Alexandrej
I'm...sorry you had to find out like that.

R. Vasily (looking up)
No, thank you (sniffling) for delivering it. It's better to know.

(Srz. Alexendrej turns again to leave, but is once again interrupted.)

Strsh. Chyornov
WAIT!! (He rushes out, waving a piece of paper.) Serzhant, I want you to deliver this paper to the Polkovnik. It is of the utmost importance.

Srz. Alexendrej
Da, comrade Starshina! (He runs off.)

Strsh. Chyornov
HURRY! (After Alexendrej leaves, he turns to Vasily.) Ryadovoi Vasily. (Vasily looks at him.) I have just now written a letter to the Polkovnik in charge of command, asking that you be given three weeks' leave to spend with your family. I hope this will suffice.
(Vasily is, understandably, shocked.)

R. Vasily
Th-Thank you, Comrade Starshina! I will be eternally grateful.

Strsh. Chyornov (obviously uncomfortable with the gratuity)
No need, Vasily. I'm only doing my job. (He pauses, thinking about what he's doing next.) And...you'd better take it easy the next few days. Pyoterskaya!

(Pyoterskaya snaps to attention.)

Strsh. Chyornov (again somewhat uncomfortably polite)
Would you, er, mind taking watch again tonight?

R. Pyoterskaya (surprised)
Of course not, Comrade Starshina!

Strsh. Chyornov (distractedly)
Good, good. All of you, get some rest. (He heads back into his tent.)

(All who weren't Vasily are looking at the Starshina's tent in awe.)
R. Pyoterskaya (aside)
I really think I liked him better as a hardass.

(The scene is back to the German camp. In stark contrast to the mood on the other side of the wall, this scene is one of merriment and laughter, with bread being broken and stashes of beer being shared. The privates, plural have loosened their buttons and some have even taken their tunics off. The fact that scenes could be so different so close by should be jarring to the audience.)

(Freiss and Friedrich should be slurring a bit.)

S. Friedrich (clearly drunk)
And then I said, I said, you can take your medicine and shove it into your ugly ass, you fraud.

S. Freiss (just as drunk)
You tell him! Old soak of a doctor, ha!

S. Teuber (less drunk, but still quite drunk)
You’re calling HIM an old soak? Look at you! (Turning to Friedrich) I tell you, Freiss couldn’t shoot the Kremlin if he was inside it.
(Raucous laughter from Friedrich, Freiss is sputtering in indignation.)

S. Freiss
Listen here, you shit! I was the best shot in my hometown!

S. Friedrich
It’s easy to say that if you had the only gun!

(Freiss is still sputtering, trying to come up with a reasonable comeback.)

S. Freiss
Oh yes? Well, you’re...you’re, eh...your mother is a boot!

(Everyone looks at him and then laughs even harder.)

S. Friedrich (after a moment of laughing)
Freiss, that was the worst insult I’ve ever heard!

S. Freiss (muttering into his beer)
You’re an insult.

S. Friedrich
What? Want to fight, idiot?

S. Freiss
If you want to lose!

(As they talk, Gefreiter Steiner emerges from his tent, still in full uniform.)

Gfr. Steiner
What is happening?! You are soldiers, not vagabonds! Stop this ridiculous posturing and sleep!

(Upon hearing this, Feldwebel Fischer also emerges from his tent, clearly tired and ready for bed.)

Fldw. Fischer
Oh, come on, Steiner! Let them have their fun. There’s nobody hostile for miles around.

Gfr. Steiner
But, Herr Feldwebel, they should be on guard! Sleeping! Doing something other than… than this debauchery! And what if there are enemies? What then?!

Fldw. Fischer
If there are, then your screeching has certainly woken them up.

(Gefreiter Steiner stands there, in utter shock.)

Fldw. Fischer
Oh, I almost forgot. Teuber!


S. Teuber
Herr Feldwebel!

Fldw. Fischer
Take night watch again, please.

S. Teuber
Of course, Herr Feldwebel.

Fldw. Fischer
Goodnight, all. Maybe I can actually get a decent amount of sleep for once.

(He returns to his tent. Gefreiter Steiner, still seething, decides it’s time to assert his power.)

Gfr. Steiner
Freiss, take night watch.

S. Freiss (sputtering)
What? But the Feldwebel said-

Gfr. Steiner
I don’t care what the Feldwebel said! I’m the highest-ranking officer here, and I say you need to take night watch!

S. Teuber (trying to defuse the situation)
Steiner-

Gfr. Steiner
HERR GEFREITER!

S. Teuber
Herr Gefreiter- It’s fine, really. I like taking night watch.

S. Freiss
Yeah, see? He likes it!

(Friedrich giggles unnecessarily. The Gefreiter is furious.)

Gfr. Steiner
YOU ARE TO RESPECT MY ORDERS AND DO AS I SAY! I-

Fldw. Fischer (from tent)
Steiner, go to bed or I’m demoting you back to Schütze, do you understand!

Gfr. Steiner (quietly enraged)
I will see to it that my orders are carried out.

(Even with that sinister ending, though, Teuber can’t resist one last crack.)

S. Teuber (jokingly loudly, to Freiss)
I really think Steiner should see a doctor, don’t you?

S. Freiss
Whu? Why?

S. Teuber
So he can have surgery and get that boot out, of course!

(Steiner stalks to his tent. The soldiers laughing brings the scene to black.)



SCENE 4: BUREAUCRACY, THIS AIN’T

(We now get our first glimpse of the Russian rear line, on stage right. In contrast to the orderly typewriting of the German Schreibstube, this is a mess of paper, soldiers, and the scattering thereof. Presiding over this lack of order is Polkovnik Dubov, a man who rose to command via the Communist Party rather than his own virtues, and as such is more concerned with himself than with his soldiers. At this time he has his feet up on his desk reading Pravda [The Soviet newspaper] as mounds of paperwork accumulate.)

(During this series of clutter lines, instead of passing papers to the Polkovnik, they should instead simply skitter towards the Polkovnik and drop the papers they carry. Clearly, they are cowed by the Polkovnik.)

Srz. Andrej
The Germans have taken back ground on the Don! Oh, no, this is from last year.

Yefr. Bolshov
The troops in the North need ammunition badly…

R. Donets
Oh, Bolshov, everybody needs ammunition! Stuff it!

Yefr. Bolshov
Donets, you don’t know a single thing about it! I bet you’ve never even fired a rifle!

R. Donets
Listen here, you ridiculous excuse for an Yefreitor, you can go sit on a land mine for all I care about you.

Yefr. Bolshov
Such insolence to a superior officer! I should skewer you where you stand!

Srz. Andrej
Please, you two are making my head hurt…

(Serzhant Alexendrej runs in, filthy and wet.)

Srz. Alexendrej
POLKOVNIK!!

(Everything stops. The various soldiers turn and look with wide-eyed surprise at the filthy Serzhant. The Polkovnik looks over, then drops his newspaper.)

Pol. Dubov
What the hell do you want, Serzhant?

(Srz. Alexendrej approaches the desk with fire in his bearing.)

Srz. Alexendrej
Comrade Polkovnik-

Pol. Dubov
What? (Dangerously, he heaves himself to his feet.) You are calling me your comrade? (To the assorted soldiers below) Do you hear? This peasant, this filthy kulak, this Serzhant (a pause for effect) is calling me his comrade! (He laughs, a great belly laugh tinged with anger. The other soldiers in the room laugh nervously along.) Listen to me, Serzhant: I am not your comrade. You are a useless little man, and I am the Polkovnik. Am I understood?

(The Serzhant, though visibly afraid, stands his ground.)

Srz. Alexendrej
I have here a dispatch from Starshina Chyornov. He said to deliver it immediately to the Polkovnik, and here I am.

Pol. Dubov
Chyornov sent this? (There is a moment of internal struggle within the large Polkovnik over whether to care.) Well, fine. Hand it over.

(The Polkovnik sits down at the desk once again. Relieved, the Serzhant turns and takes a few steps away.)


Pol. Dubov (without looking up)
Did I say you could leave, Serzhant?

(The Serzhant, face frozen in surprise, turns around and walks back to the Polkovnik’s desk. Once he is back, the Polkovnik opens the envelope and begins to read.)

Pol. Dubov (reading despatch)
Sixteenth March. Esteemed Polkovnik, I hope this despatch finds you well. I am requesting a three-weeks pass for- THREE WEEKS PASS? (He slams the despatch down on the desk.) SERZHANT! (The Serzhant jumps.) Where is Chyornov?

Serz. Alexendrej
Er-At the front, sir.

Pol. Dubov
Do not play games with me, Serzhant! Where on the front?

Serz. Alexendrej
Um, I think-

Pol. Dubov (annoyed)
Never mind! Just take me to him! BOLSHOV! Ready my car! (aside, and very deliberately.) I’m going to see what made Chyornov so soft, and when I do…

(Cut to black.)