The officers of his company found out that he did not smoke, and never drank anything stronger than spring water.

They noticed also that dirt was painful to him, even the ordinary dust of the country roads, and that he was dissatisfied if his boots and trousers bore the marks of muddy fields.

They thought him a spoiled mother's darling, a "molly-coddle," and their instructive knowledge of human nature found a name for him, the same name his schoolfellows had already given him.
They called him the "Fraulein." But in the day of battle, when Wilhelm with his company stood for the first time in the line of fire, the "Fraulein" was perhaps the firmest of them all.

The hissing balls made apparently no more impression on him than a crowd of swarming gnats, and the only moment his courage left him was when he thought he might be thrown into a ditch, which the rains had turned into a complete puddle.

He remained standing when all the others lay down, and the captain at last called out to him, "In the devil's name, do you want to be a target for the French ?" making him seek shelter behind a little mound, which left him nearly as uncovered as he was before.