“Eh?” Friedrich Wahlberg looked up from his textbook. “An army for salvation? That is an interesting idea. We have plenty of armies. We have the Protestant armies, the Swedish armies, the French army and the Imperial armies. But even though they say they are fighting in the name of religion, they don’t seem to care about the souls of the people they kill and maim.” Wahlberg shook his head. “It is too bad we don’t have an Army of Salvation.”
“Maybe we shall.”
“What?”
“I have been looking for something to do here in Magdeburg. You are so busy with your engineering, and we have no family here.”
“Hmmm. You know, we are having a real problem with the workers on the wall and drunkenness. It would be good if there was some way we could stop them from getting drunk and not being fit to work the next day. Do you think your Salvation Army might be able to do something about that?”
Katerina thought.
The next morning she went to get an appointment to see the abbess of Quedlinburg. To her surprise, after a wait of perhaps an hour, she was ushered into a sitting room, where the abbess awaited.
Getting straight to the point, Katerina told the abbess what her husband had suggested, and said she wanted to make it come true.
“I want to start an Army of Salvation. My army would not carry weapons. We would be like the mission in Guys and Dolls, have you seen it?” she said.
“Yes, I have,” the abbess replied. “An interesting story, was it not?”
“Yes, especially the mission. I looked up the Save-a-Soul Mission in the up-timers’ books, and found out that it was actually called the Salvation Army. I want to have a Salvation Army, a Heilsarmee, here in Magdeburg.”
The abbess gestured for Katerina to go on.
“Particularly we would work with the workmen who are building our new city. My husband tells me they have terrible problems with drunkenness and absenteeism. We have to help these poor men!”
“I like it,” the abbess said, after some thought. “We must see how this can be done.”
“Did you know, Frau Schuesslerin, that there is a long tradition in Magdeburg of street singing?” Friedrich Spee said. “The university students sang for Christian charity on street corners.”
“I had no idea,” Katerina said. “I am not from here originally. I followed my husband who works for Herr von Gericke on the construction.”
“Yes,” the Jesuit said. “In fact, it is said that even Dr. Luther sang on the street with his fellow students. But why have you come to me?”
“I wish to start an army,” Katerina said. Spee’s eyes widened and his eyebrows rose. “But my army will not have arms. It will be a Salvation Army.”
“Ah, like the up-timers, I see,” Spee said.
“Not exactly. That is why I have come to see you.”
“Ah…?”
“We have Catholic armies and Protestant armies. What I want is an army for everyone. So I have come to you. You are close to the cardinal, and you are also a musician and hymn composer of some note. I want to have Catholics and Lutherans in my army.” Katerina folded her arms and waited.
Spee smiled. “What would you have me do?”
“Georg, you cannot keep coming to the hiring hall later and later,” Doorn said, as they were sitting on the lip of a ruined stairway eating their lunch. “Sooner or later, they will tell you to stop coming.”
“I’m not sleeping well, Pieter,” Georg said, rubbing his palms over his temples.
“And you are drinking a lot, ja? ”
“Not any more than always.”
“You need to stop.”
Georg looked at Doorn.
“What do you mean, I have to stop? You have been known to get drunk, too!”
“Not anymore.”
“What?”
“I have put myself into God’s hands, and I have stopped drinking.”
“Come to think of it,” Georg said, “We haven’t been to a tavern together in quite some time. What do you mean, you have put yourself into God’s hands?”
Doorn looked directly at Georg.
“I have found some help, and I am living one day at a time,” he said quietly.
“What help?”
“I have been going to a meeting in the basement of St. James,’ ” Doorn said.
Georg looked at him and sneered. “How can going to a meeting in a church make you stop drinking?”
“I have had to look at my life and see that it wasn’t working,” Doorn said.
“And you do this at a meeting?”
“No, I do it in my life. I am doing it now. But I learn how at the meeting.”
“So some priest preaches at you until you stop drinking, eh? I thought you Hollanders were all Calvinists anyway. I’ve never had a priest tell me anything that made me better. All they do is tell me how I am going to go to Hell.”
“The priest isn’t even there most of the time. There are a group of us.”
“Well, I don’t understand how this would make you quit drinking,” Georg said.
“I could explain it to you, Georg, but I won’t. When you are ready, let me know and I will bring you to a meeting. You will understand better there.”
Doorn levered himself upright. He stretched his shoulder muscles.
“Time to go back to working,” he said as he walked off.
Georg stood staring at Doorn’s back.
Georg turned. He was back in the house in Magdeburg. The woman was keening, holding her blood-spurting wrist. But strangely, the little girl was standing, staring at him, holding her body together with one hand. He was holding the bloody hanger. The little girl said, “Why?” and blood came out of her mouth in a gush. “Why?” Her eyes stayed on Georg’s as her body fell away in two pieces.
As always, Georg woke shaking. His eyes were wide open and gradually, he became aware of his real surroundings.
He went to work that morning as if nothing had happened. He was shaky, though, and his friend Doorn noticed quickly.
“Georg, are you all right?” Doorn said.
“ Ja, of course… No, I…am not all right.”
“Can I be of help?”
“I…I would like to hear more about this meeting you were talking about.”
“Of course. There is likely to be one tonight. We use a program that the up-timers knew about. It is called ‘twelve steps.’ ”
“What are the steps?” Georg asked.
“In the first step,” Doorn said, “we admit that we are powerless over alcohol.”
“Well, that’s certainly true enough,” Georg said.
“There are eleven more steps,” Doorn said, “that lead us to recovery and the ability to live a good and sober life.”
There were chairs in a circle. The meeting had started already when Doorn and Georg came in. After a few people stood up and spoke, it was obvious how to participate. After one of the speakers paused and sat down, there were some people who were looking at Georg expectantly. He stood up.
“My name is Georg Schuler. And I am a drunk.”
