midday
Twenty minutes after , we were buried in slumber . At Frankfort I learned to understand military life . Up to that time I had been but a simple conscript , then I became a soldier . I do not speak merely of drill , -- the way of turning the head right or left , measuring the steps , lifting the hand to the height of the first or second band to load , aiming , recovering arms at the word of command -- that is only an affair of a month or two , if a man really desires to learn ; but I speak of discipline -- of remembering that the corporal is always in the right when he speaks to a private soldier , the sergeant when he speaks to the corporal , the sergeant-major when speaking to the sergeant , the second lieutenant when he orders the sergeant-major , and so on to the Marshal of France -- even if the superior asserts that two and two make five , or that the moon shines at midday . This is very difficult to learn ; but there is one thing that assists you immensely , and that is a sort of placard hung up in every room in the barracks , and which is from time to time read to you . This placard presupposes everything that a soldier might wish to do , as , for instance , to return home , to refuse to serve , to resist his officer , and always ends by speaking of death , or at least five years with a ball and chain . The day after our arrival at Frankfort I wrote to Monsieur Goulden , to Catharine , and to Aunt Grédel .