Katczinsky got angry. “You might be generous for once. You haven’t drawn food for eighty men. You’ve drawn it for the Second Company. Good. Let’s have it then. We are the Second Company.”

We began to jostle the fellow. No one felt kindly toward him, for it was his fault that the food often came up to us in the line too late and cold. Under shellfire he wouldn’t bring his kitchen up near enough, so that our soup-carriers had to go much farther than those of the other companies. Now Bulcke of the First Company is a much better fellow. He is as fat as a hamster in winter, but he trundles his pots when it comes to that right up to the very front-line.

We were in just the right mood, and there would certainly have been a dustup if our company commander had not appeared. He informed himself of the dispute, and only remarked: “Yes, we did have heavy losses yesterday.”

He glanced into the dixie. “The beans look good.”

Ginger nodded. “Cooked with meat and fat.”