Self-Imposed Rule Against Drinking While on Duty

Fiete Honka’s self-imposed rule against drinking while on duty is a small but consequential attempt to impose order on a life increasingly governed by alcohol. Its brief success makes the first breach feel like a choice he might still contain; its rapid collapse exposes how little restraint he can sustain when loneliness, boredom, and drink converge.

A Rule Made for the Night Shift

The rule belongs to Fiete Honka’s effort to follow through on a series of resolutions. For several weeks he keeps to his program and touches no alcohol during work. The commitment is practical as well as personal: he is on duty guarding offices, and he knows that his employers, including Wolter and Wolter’s superior, would not approve of drinking on the job. Yet the rule has no external force behind it. It depends entirely on Fiete’s ability to refuse the bottle when it is available.

The contrast with his surroundings is sharp. At the Zum Goldenen Handschuh, alcohol is part of the atmosphere of nightly company, and Fiete is lonely enough to accept an offer even when it means listening to one of Soldaten-Norbert’s endless monologues. He takes pride in being called Fiete, a nickname that makes him feel unusually recognized. That fragile sense of belonging helps explain why the invitation that breaks his abstinence is social, not simply a solitary decision to drink.

Helga Denningsen’s Birthday and the First Breach

On July 13, Helga Denningsen’s husband, Erich Denningsen, visits her at work, and Fiete is invited to join them. He initially refuses the alcohol. Then he gives way: one bottle of Holsten beer becomes another, followed by Hohe Klasse brandy. The evening also includes dice, a portable radio, jokes, and music. The familiar pleasures of company make the rule seem briefly less important than being included.

After Erich and Helga leave around midnight, Fiete begins his first security round. He races around the building at speed, exhausting himself in an effort to sweat out the alcohol. He worries that Wolter or his superior might discover what he has done, then reassures himself that they cannot find out. The episode turns the rule into a secret to conceal rather than a boundary he can confidently keep.

From Remorse to Repetition

The next day, guilt returns. Fiete promises himself that this will remain a single lapse and that he can simply forget it; he treats the problem as a matter of will. But the night shift now feels unbearable in its boredom. The seconds, minutes, and hours seem to dissolve, while half a bottle of Hohe Klasse and several beers remain within reach. He cannot bring himself to refuse them. He manages to postpone the first drink until midnight, then drinks what is left.

That sequence marks a change in the rule’s status. At first it organizes a period in which Fiete is managing to keep several resolutions; after the birthday, it becomes a promise repeatedly made against immediate temptation. The delay until midnight is a remnant of self-control, but it does not prevent the drinking. Instead, the bottle and beers turn the empty hours of the shift into an occasion for breaking the promise again.

The Rule’s Collapse

Later, Fiete’s drinking on duty becomes more severe. On some shifts he consumes a whole bottle of Korn and becomes so intoxicated that he cannot even make it to the Zum Goldenen Handschuh afterward. His wages go on alcohol and sex workers; food becomes a nuisance, and other concerns lose their hold. The early effort to remain sober while working has not endured as a dependable limit.

The rule’s importance lies in this reversal. It briefly offers evidence that Fiete can organize his behavior around a chosen purpose, but the birthday evening, the secret rush around the building, and the later bottles trace the failure of that control in stages. What begins as a concrete commitment does not withstand either the attraction of company or the vacant hours of the night shift; eventually, even the work that once supplied a reason for restraint is overtaken by drink.