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作者: Leo Tolstoy

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Had the Russian army been alone without any allies, it might
perhaps have been a long time before this consciousness of
mismanagement became a general conviction, but as it was, the
disorder was readily and naturally attributed to the stupid
Germans, and everyone was convinced that a dangerous muddle had
been occasioned by the sausage eaters.
"Why have we stopped? Is the way blocked? Or have we already come
up against the French?"
"No, one can't hear them. They'd be firing if we had."
"They were in a hurry enough to start us, and now here we stand
in the middle of a field without rhyme or reason. It's all those
damned Germans' muddling! What stupid devils!"
"Yes, I'd send them on in front, but no fear, they're crowding up
behind. And now here we stand hungry."
"I say, shall we soon be clear? They say the cavalry are blocking
the way," said an officer.
"Ah, those damned Germans! They don't know their own country!"
said another.
"What division are you?" shouted an adjutant, riding up.

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