Good Soldier Svejk - (Complete Translation)

Author: Ha?ek
Publisher:
Publication Date: 2006-06-01
Features: Season 3 of ?vejk's Adventures, 91st Regiment Relocated to Zlín, Also Known as Brod on the Leitha River. ?vejk Had Been Under Three Days of Confinement but Was Taken to the Main Guard Room Three Hours Before His Release Along with a One-Year Volunteer. He Was Taken by Military Escort to the Train Station.
"Long ago, I heard," the volunteer told him on the way, "we are being transferred to Hungary, where several infantry battalions will be formed. The soldiers will undergo field shooting training. They will fight and cause trouble with the Hungarians. We can have a good time in the Carpathians. And the Hungarians will come here to Buda?rs to carry out garrison duties. The nations will mix. There’s a theory that raping girls from other nations is the best cure for degeneration. During the Thirty Years' War, Swiss people did it to Spanish people; under Napoleon, French people did it; and now, the Hungarians in Buda?rs will do it too. Everything will gradually improve. Fair trade isn’t plunder. Czech soldiers will sleep with Hungarian girls, andCzech girls will also let Hungarian soldiers into their beds. A few centuries later, anthropologists will be amazed to find out: How did a people with prominent cheekbones appear by the Mar?ovsky River?"
"This hybridization," ?vejk said, "is quite an interesting affair. In Prague, there’s a waiter named Christian. His father was the king of Abyssinia and had once exhibited him in a circus in Prague’s ?tvanice. A female teacher, who often published poems about shepherds, forests, and streams in the magazine Rada, had an affair with the king, as the Bible says, ‘they became intimate.’ When she gave birth to a little boy, his skin was completely white. She was very surprised, but, hey, half a month later, the baby turned brown, and then his color deepened further. A month later, he began to turn black. Within half a year, the boy was as black as his grandfather, the king of Abyssinia. She took the child to a dermatology clinic, hoping to lighten his skin somehow. But the clinic staff told her it was genuine Negro skin, something impossible to change. This drove her mad. She started writing to magazines, wondering how to prevent the appearance of Negros. They ended up arresting her in Katowice and sending the little black boy to an orphanage. The people there had a lot of fun with the child. Later, he learned to be a waiter and often danced at nightclubs. Many Czech-black mixed children have now been born, all descendants of him, though their skin isn’t as dark as his.
"One time, a medical student who often went to the Holy Grail Hotel told us that the issue was far more complicated. Such half-Negroes would have half-Negro offspring, and those children would be almost indistinguishable from whites. But in later generations, a Negro might suddenly appear. Imagine the disaster! You might marry a girl who is as white as snow, and then she suddenly gives birth to a black baby. And she had gone to a variety show theater alone nine months earlier, watching Negros wrestle. I think this whole thing would make you think about certain things."
"You see, about your Negro Christian problem," the volunteer said, "we must also look at it from a war perspective. Let’s imagine they make that Negro join the army. He’s from Prague, so he should go to the 28th Regiment. But you’ve already heard how the 28th ended up on the Russian side. The Russians would be very surprised to capture a Negro prisoner named Christian. Russian newspapers would report that Austria, though it doesn’t have colonial troops, has already sent Negros to war, relying on Negro reserve units."
"People often say," ?vejk interjected, "that Austria really does have colonies in the north. That place is called the Franz Joseph Empire."
"Shut up," the soldier escorting them said. "You’d better be careful today and not talk about the Franz Joseph Empire. And don’t name names."
"Well, look at the map," the volunteer said. "There really is a colony belonging to our benevolent Emperor Franz Joseph. According to statistics, there’s only one thing there: ice. Ice is transported from there by the icebreakers of Prague’s ice factory. This ice industry is highly valued abroad because it’s a very profitable business, though it’s risky. The biggest risk comes from transporting ice from the Franz Joseph Empire across the Arctic Circle. Can you imagine that?"
The escorting soldier muttered something unintelligible, but the NCO accompanying them moved closer to hear what the volunteer would say next. The volunteer spoke gravely: "This sole colony of Austria is an outstanding resource for the national economy. The ice there is enough to supply the entire continent. Of course, colonial activities there have been slow, partly because people are unwilling to volunteer, and partly because those who do volunteer freeze to death. But with the help of climate regulation, the vast ice regions could be developed properly. The Ministry of Trade and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs are very interested in climate regulation. As long as a few hotels are built, they can attract a large number of tourists. Of course, it will be necessary to plan tourist routes and channels between the ice floes, and to mark the ice with tourist signs. The only difficulty is the Eskimos. They make it impossible for our local authorities to work."
"Those bastards won’t learn German," the volunteer continued, and the NCO listened with great interest. He was an active man, a farmer before joining the army, and both foolish and rough. His ideal was to stay in the Austrian army until he died.
"The Ministry of Education spent a lot of money and made many sacrifices to build a school for the Eskimos, NCO," the volunteer said. "Five construction workers froze to death."
"The bricklayers survived," ?vejk interjected, "because they lit their pipes and stayed warm."
"Not all of them did," the volunteer said. "Unfortunately, two forgot to smoke and their pipes went out. So they had to be buried in the ice. But the school was built with ice bricks and reinforced concrete, and it was well-adhered. However, the Eskimos set fire to the school with wood from icebound merchant ships around it, and they succeeded. The school was built on ice, and when the ice melted, the entire school, along with the principal and government representatives, sank into the sea—they had planned to hold a solemn dedication ceremony the next day. You can still hear the government representative shouting in German, ‘God punishes England!’ when the water reached his neck. They will probably send a troop to the Eskimos to maintain order. Of course, fighting the Eskimos will be very tough. And what really harms our troops is the tame polar bear."
"Sending troops is just a last resort," the NCO commented wisely. "It seems like there are already enough inventions in war. For example, gas masks cause gas poisoning. You put one on your head, and you end uped. That’s what they told us at the NCO school."
"They’re just trying to scare you," ?vejk said. "Soldiers shouldn’t be afraid of anything. Even if they fall into a dung heap in battle, they should lick themselves clean and go back to fighting. When eating barley-pea bread with bran in the barracks, everyone gets used to gas. But now I hear the Russians have invented something new for NCOs."
"Probably an electric current," the volunteer added. "When they connect it to the stars on the NCOs’ insignia, the stars will explode because they’re made of celluloid. That’s a new disaster."
Although the NCO had been a shepherd before joining the army and was the biggest fool, he must have finally realized they were mocking him. He walked away to join the patrol in front. Besides, by then they were already near the station, where the residents of Buda?rs were sending off the regiment. The farewell wasn’t official, but the square in front of the station was already crowded with people waiting for the troops. ?vejk’s attention was focused on the people on both sides of the street. According to custom, the escorted prisoners walked in front, while the good soldiers followed behind. The good soldiers were shoved into animal-drawn carts, while ?vejk and the volunteer were taken to a prisoner car. Prisoner cars were always attached to the military train, right behind the regimental headquarters. In such a car, there was plenty of space. ?vejk couldn’t help but wave his hat at the people on both sides and shouted, "Nazda!" This gesture was highly suggestive, and the crowd repeated it loudly. Soon, "Nazda!" echoed thunderously over the station.
Somewhere in the distance, someone shouted, "They’re here!" The NCO in charge of the escort was furious and ordered ?vejk to shut up. But the shout spread like a landslide. The gendarmes pushed the crowd back to clear a path for the escorted prisoners, but the crowd continued to wave their hats and shout "Nazda!" It was quite logical. The ladies and gentlemen in the windows of the hotels across the station waved handkerchiefs and shouted, "Heil!" The Czech "Nazda!" mixed with the German "Heil!" One enthusiastic person took the opportunity to shout, "Down with Serbs!" but was tripped and lightly stepped on in the pretense of a crowd. A sentence flashed like an electric spark: "They’re here!" And indeed, they were. ?vejk was escorted by armed guards, waving warmly at the crowd, while the volunteer stood solemnly at attention. They entered the station and the military train assigned to them. The conductor of the sharpshooter band was so taken aback by the unexpected scene that he almost conducted the playing of "God Save the Emperor." Fortunately, at that critical moment, Ratzner from the 7th Cavalry Division appeared, and order began to be restored. Ratzner wore a black top hat and was a senior chaplain.
P296-300