Volkheimer

Volkheimer is a sergeant in a German radio-tracking unit, a young man whose imposing size makes him seem older and more formidable than he is. He helps hunt partisan radio operators across occupied territory, but the novel gives his character a sharper outline through contrasts: his military efficiency alongside his treatment of prisoners, and his intimidating presence alongside moments of gentleness and care.

Identity and Introduction

Volkheimer is introduced within the unit assembled to track partisan transmissions. Walter Bernd is its taciturn engineer, Neumann One its driver, and Werner Pfennig the young technician who can repair the equipment. Volkheimer, their sergeant, cannot be older than twenty; in the hard light of dawn, however, he looks twice that age. His scale and bearing seem to carry the weight of a much older soldier, even as the narration makes his youth unmistakable.

His first explanation establishes the operation’s purpose: partisans are attacking trains, and the captain believes their attacks are coordinated by radio. The unit is not simply traveling through a war zone; it is searching for unauthorized signals and the people sending them. Volkheimer’s position places him between the technical work of listening and the armed force that will act on what the equipment detects.

The Radio-Tracking Mission

The unit moves by Opel along roads barely more substantial than cattle trails. At intervals, the men set up a transceiver on a ridge or rise. Bernd and Neumann Two remain behind with a rifle and headphones while Volkheimer and the others drive a few hundred yards away, establishing the base of a triangle. Werner calculates distance, raises the truck’s aerial, and scans the radio spectrum for voices that are not sanctioned. Volkheimer’s mission thus depends on a precise procedure: equipment, distance, and listening turn an invisible broadcast into a location that soldiers can pursue.

Werner quickly proves more capable than the technician before him. Volkheimer’s eyes soften as he tells Werner that he is nothing like their last technician. The moment is brief, but it complicates the sergeant’s otherwise severe outline: he recognizes competence and responds to it with visible warmth. That gentleness does not change the purpose of the operation, which remains the detection of forbidden voices, but it shows that his authority is not expressed only through command.

Encounters with Prisoners

During the winter, the Opel passes groups of prisoners. When Volkheimer sees them, he asks Neumann One to slow and looks for a man as large as he is. If he spots one, he taps the dashboard, gets out, and enters the group, often wearing only a shirt in the cold. Neumann One notes that Volkheimer has left his rifle in the truck. The repeated routine makes Volkheimer’s stature the measure by which he selects a prisoner, while his approach brings the two men’s bodies into direct comparison.

Volkheimer tells the chosen man to undress. The command is sometimes audible to Werner from the truck; sometimes Volkheimer is too far away. The scene’s force lies partly in that distance: Werner can hear the order or fail to hear it, while Volkheimer moves among the prisoners. His conduct is not presented as an abstract feature of his military role; it is a repeated, deliberate encounter with vulnerable people under guard. The contrast between his bare-handed entry and the rifle left behind does not make the act benign. It makes his physical presence, rather than the weapon, the immediate instrument of intimidation.

Bernd’s Death and Volkheimer’s Care

When Bernd lies gravely ill beneath the rubble, he murmurs for an hour and then falls silent. Volkheimer responds, “God, have mercy on your servant.” Bernd later sits up and asks for light. The men give him the last of the water in the first canteen, and Werner watches a thread of it run through Bernd’s whiskers. In this constricted scene, Volkheimer’s prayer and the dwindling water mark how little remains within the group’s control.

Bernd speaks of visiting his elderly father on leave: the slow crossing of the kitchen, a package of small almond cookies set on a plate, and his father repeatedly telling him that he did not have to stay. Volkheimer switches off the light. The darkness leaves Werner apprehending the painful feeling held at bay there, without the scene resolving it into an explanation. Volkheimer’s gesture is small, but it follows the prayer and Bernd’s intimate recollection; in the ruins, care appears as attention to what the others can bear to see and hear.

Werner’s Companion Beneath the Rubble

Later, in the blackness, Werner crawls toward Volkheimer and finds the comfort of his friend’s huge knee. A rifle lies beside them, and Bernd’s corpse is somewhere beyond. The arrangement gathers the men’s predicament into a few physical facts: darkness, the weapon, the dead comrade, and the familiar bulk of Volkheimer within reach. Werner’s movement toward him establishes a bond not through declaration but through seeking contact in a place where almost nothing else offers reassurance.

Werner asks whether Volkheimer ever heard the stories told about him by the boys at Schulpforta. Volkheimer asks who, and Werner identifies the boys. The exchange confirms that Volkheimer had acquired a reputation at the school, but it does not explain the stories or show that he knows what was said. At this late point, the question hangs beside the earlier scenes rather than settling them: the young sergeant remains both the imposing figure others remember and the companion Werner reaches for in the dark.