Free The Train Was On Time by Heinrich Böll

Gestapo, you can never tell, not till it’s all over. For two whole weeks you sweat blood. If after two weeks there’s been no report and none of the bunch have been arrested, that means you’ve come out on top again. Forty thousand marks.” He took a drink of beer with obvious enjoyment.
    “When I think of all that stuff lying in the mud around Nikopol. It’s worth millions, I tell you, millions! And not a bloody soul gets a thing out of it, only the Russians. You know,” he lit a cigarette, savoring it, “now and again we could flog something that wasn’t so dangerous. One day a spare part, another day a motor or some tires. Clothing too. They’re keen as hell to get hold of clothing. Coats, now … they’ll fetch a thousand marks, a good coat will. Back home, you know, I’ve built myself a little house, a nice little house with a workshop … for … for … what did you say?” he asked abruptly. But Andreas had said nothing, he shot him a quick glance and saw that his eye had darkened, he was frowning, and that he hurriedly finished his beer. Even without the beard, the old face was there again … the sun was still shining golden above the towers of Przemysl on the River San, and the blond fellow was stirring.It was obvious he had only been pretending to be asleep. Now he was pretending to wake up. He stretched his limbs very deliberately, turned over, and opened his eyes, but he didn’t know that the traces of tears in his grimy face were still plainly visible. There were proper furrows, furrows in the grime as on the face of a very little girl who has had her sandwich pinched on the playground. He didn’t know this, maybe he had even forgotten that he had been crying. His eyes were red-rimmed and unsightly; he really did look as if he might have venereal disease.…
    “Aaah,” he yawned, “I’m glad there’s some grub.” His beer had got a bit tepid, but he gulped it down thirstily and began to eat while the other two smoked and very slowly, without the least hurry, drank vodka, crystal-clear, wonderful vodka unpacked by Willi.
    “Yes,” laughed Willi, but he broke off so abruptly that the other two looked at him in alarm; Willi blushed, looked at the ground, and took a big gulp of vodka.
    “What was that?” Andreas asked quietly. “What were you going to say?”
    Willi spoke in a very low voice. “I was going to say that I’m now drinking up our mortgage, literally our mortgage. You see, there was a mortgage on the house my wife owned when we got married, a small one of four thousand, and I had been meaning to pay it off now … but come on, let’s drink, prost!”
    The blond fellow also didn’t feel like going into town to some barber, or to a washroom in one of those army huts. They tucked towels and soap under their arms, and off they went.
    “And make sure your boots are nice and clean too, boys!” Willi called after them. His own boots were indeed shining with fresh polish.
    Somewhere down at the end of a track there was a big water pump for the locomotives. It dripped constantly, slowly; a steady trickle of water flowed from it, and the sand all aroundwas one large puddle. It was true, it did feel good to have a wash. If only the soap would lather properly. Andreas took his shaving soap. I shan’t be needing it any more, he thought. Although it’s enough for three months, of course, and it was only “issued” to me a month ago, but I shan’t be needing it any more, and the partisans can have what’s left. The partisans need soap too, Poles love shaving. Shaving and shoeshining are their specialties. But just as they were about to start shaving, they saw Willi in the distance calling and waving, and his gestures were so emphatic, so dramatic you might say, that they packed up their things and dried themselves off as they ran back.
    “Boys!” called Willi. “There’s a leave-train for Kovel just come in, it’s running late, we’ll be in Lvov in four hours, you