The Night of the Generals by Hans Hellmut Kirst Read Free Book Online

as Chief of Staff was theoretically responsible for organizing the lunch; with Melanie Neumaier, who wrote out table-cards, arranged flowers and made telephone calls; and with the staff superintendent, who was persuaded to part with special stores of various kinds after a short struggle.
    "I wonder if I might ask you to find some ice-buckets for the wine--silver ones, if possible?"
    TheGeneralin was not one to shy at fences, most of which she took at the first attempt. She had wasted no time in combing the multitudinous rooms of the Liechnowski Palace for articles of value and gathering them around her, well aware that the effect of a painting is often determined by its frame.
    By the time she had finished, the suite occupied by her husband and herself resembled an inhabited museum. It was filled with damasks from Lyons, marble from Carrara, paintings from Paris, furniture from Rome and, scattered among these, fine examples of Polish craftsmanship, notably a massive and elaborately decorated table from a Cracow workshop of the late eighteenth century.
    Wilhelmine von Seydlitz-Gabler's majestic features grew stern as her daughter Ulrike entered the room.
    Ulrike was a slim, bony girl with an air of extreme reserve. If her father's prayers had been granted she would have been a boy, but Ulrike resolutely emphasized her femininity. Her hair-style, for instance, was downright provocative--a long smooth creation which enclosed her head like a silken curtain.
    Ulrike was a source of some worry to her parents. She was largely devoid of the sovereign self-confidence which might have been expected in a general's daughter, nor was she particularly choosey about her friends. So, Ulrike had to be watched, and that was why, when she took up war-work, she was always "posted" somewhere within her parents' reach. At the moment she was working at garrison headquarters.
    "Ah, there you are, my dear," said Frau Wilhelmine. "You must be wondering why I sent for you."
    Ulrike von Seydlitz-Gabler was young. Her eyes were blue and untroubled as a Mediterranean sky in summer. "I suppose I've put my foot in it again," she said sweetly. "What have I done wrong now?"
    "My dearest child," said Wilhelmine, all mother and general's wife, "I worry about you more than you give me credit for. I worry about your future, too." She indicated one of the tall chairs that stood round the table. "After all, you're a woman now."
    "Maybe," said Ulrike, almost sadly. "Sometimes I think so too. It's the war, probably."
    "You're not an innocent girl any longer, Ulrike. We needn't pretend to each other."
    "Why should we? Nobody's to blame. It's not your fault or Father's either. I'm doing war-work here because you insisted on it, but when you do war-work you meet a lot of soldiers--and they're not all as old and respectable as a Corps Commander."
    "Don't misunderstand me, Ulrike. I've no intention of reading you a moral lecture. On the contrary, we all have to learn from our mistakes. I'd like to know whether you're happy, that's all."
    "Is it essential to be happy with things the way they are?"
    Frau Wilhelmine brushed the question aside. "I'm no stranger to this sort of situation, my dear. When I was your age I gave myself to a lieutenant--one summer night in the park. I need hardly add that he was an exceptional man, but who was I to tie myself to a young, impetuous lieutenant? Later I met a captain, a much more balanced, mature and stable man. He became your father."
    Ulrike crossed her legs. It was a defiant gesture, but her mother refused to be distracted. When Frau Wilhelmine could see the winning-post ahead she pressed on regardless like the thoroughbred she was.
    "We women," she pursued, quite unperturbed, "have our occasional moments of weakness, but when the hour of decision comes we choose a man of solid worth, the man who seems worthiest of our love."
    "And who do you suppose that might be in my case?"
    "A general at the very least, Ulrike. That's why I asked