rail and up in the masts and rigging, and cheered and cheered.
Each man was issued a life belt and we had strict orders never to take them off, but they made too good pillows for anyone to respect such an order. The lifeboats were kept swung out on their davits There were AA guns mounted on the deck and we were escorted by three Italian torpedo boats with oily, black smoke pouring from their stocky funnels. The boat pitched violently, and you could not stay down in the hold for the stench of the vomit. Porta, The Old Un and I wrapped ourselves in our greatcoats and lay in the lee of the deckhouse. I cannot remember what we talked about, but I do remember that we were quite satisfied with our lot. I believe we just smoked and talked quietly of things in general, thoughtful little observations uttered at sober intervals. We talked rather like laborers sitting on the edge of a trench during the lunch interval. For a while we ceased to be the gallows birds we normally were, and Porta did not even lard his talk with words descriptive of the human sexual organs, as he usually did. Even he behaved normally. I found myself longing for Ursula to lend reality to the peace, of which we were being allowed a momentary taste in a troopship heavily laden with men and tanks.
Porta felt that he wanted music, but discovered that his suitcase was gone. "Help!" he yelled. "Help! I'm dead! Murdered! Thieves, murderers, damned lot of Nazis! I've been robbed! Plundered! My flute and my tails!"
He refused to be comforted, even when we assured him that he could buy a new flute in Tripoli. No flute from Tripoli could ever be as good as his old one.
Gradually we fell asleep.
We were awakened by a tremendous noise of motors in the darkness just above our heads. Spiteful red tongues of flame stabbed down at us from the air. Screechings and whistlings tore at our eardrums; there was a banging and smacking against the steel plates of the ship's sides. Our own gun stuck its tongue out through the darkness back at the attacking bombers. Boom-boomboom, it went, and the machine guns barked furiously.
We stood pressed against the deckhouse, both afraid and pleasantly thrilled--this, after all, was the first time we had been in action--while we tried to make head or tail of what was happening. Now the planes were back again, roaring as they dived.
Then a whine rose above the roar. The Old Un gave me a push and shouted:
"Down! This is it!"
Then came the roar, and the big boat shook. Again we heard the dreadful howling, but this time it was the other ship they were after. Along with the crash several pillars of fire shot up over there, and in the glare of them we saw each other's faces. Within a few seconds the other ship was a roaring sea of flames. Red and yellow tongues shot upward through thick smoke with reports as loud as gunfire. A plane dropped onto the foredeck and lay there. Then that, too, was ringed by flames. Suddenly I thought that my eardrums had burst. I could not hear a sound. It was like a film when the sound track has failed. I got up and looked out across the dark red sea, but suddenly I was flung over and found that I could hear again. Fountains of fire and water rose toward the heavens. From inside the ship came the sound of resounding explosions. One of our three big funnels rose and sailed off slowly in an arc into the darkness. It was a remarkable, unreal sight.
"The ship's capsizing!"
Rumbling crashes were still coming from inside the ship, whence rose a thousand-voiced cry of terror from those in the holds. We looked confusedly at each other. Then we jumped.
The water was so fantastically far beneath me that I thought I should never reach it; but all at once it had closed over me, and I sank and sank, feeling as though my body were broken in half. There was a roaring and seething in my ears, and inside my head something was throbbing faster and faster, louder and louder. In the end I could stand no more. I gave up. Now you're
Each man was issued a life belt and we had strict orders never to take them off, but they made too good pillows for anyone to respect such an order. The lifeboats were kept swung out on their davits There were AA guns mounted on the deck and we were escorted by three Italian torpedo boats with oily, black smoke pouring from their stocky funnels. The boat pitched violently, and you could not stay down in the hold for the stench of the vomit. Porta, The Old Un and I wrapped ourselves in our greatcoats and lay in the lee of the deckhouse. I cannot remember what we talked about, but I do remember that we were quite satisfied with our lot. I believe we just smoked and talked quietly of things in general, thoughtful little observations uttered at sober intervals. We talked rather like laborers sitting on the edge of a trench during the lunch interval. For a while we ceased to be the gallows birds we normally were, and Porta did not even lard his talk with words descriptive of the human sexual organs, as he usually did. Even he behaved normally. I found myself longing for Ursula to lend reality to the peace, of which we were being allowed a momentary taste in a troopship heavily laden with men and tanks.
Porta felt that he wanted music, but discovered that his suitcase was gone. "Help!" he yelled. "Help! I'm dead! Murdered! Thieves, murderers, damned lot of Nazis! I've been robbed! Plundered! My flute and my tails!"
He refused to be comforted, even when we assured him that he could buy a new flute in Tripoli. No flute from Tripoli could ever be as good as his old one.
Gradually we fell asleep.
We were awakened by a tremendous noise of motors in the darkness just above our heads. Spiteful red tongues of flame stabbed down at us from the air. Screechings and whistlings tore at our eardrums; there was a banging and smacking against the steel plates of the ship's sides. Our own gun stuck its tongue out through the darkness back at the attacking bombers. Boom-boomboom, it went, and the machine guns barked furiously.
We stood pressed against the deckhouse, both afraid and pleasantly thrilled--this, after all, was the first time we had been in action--while we tried to make head or tail of what was happening. Now the planes were back again, roaring as they dived.
Then a whine rose above the roar. The Old Un gave me a push and shouted:
"Down! This is it!"
Then came the roar, and the big boat shook. Again we heard the dreadful howling, but this time it was the other ship they were after. Along with the crash several pillars of fire shot up over there, and in the glare of them we saw each other's faces. Within a few seconds the other ship was a roaring sea of flames. Red and yellow tongues shot upward through thick smoke with reports as loud as gunfire. A plane dropped onto the foredeck and lay there. Then that, too, was ringed by flames. Suddenly I thought that my eardrums had burst. I could not hear a sound. It was like a film when the sound track has failed. I got up and looked out across the dark red sea, but suddenly I was flung over and found that I could hear again. Fountains of fire and water rose toward the heavens. From inside the ship came the sound of resounding explosions. One of our three big funnels rose and sailed off slowly in an arc into the darkness. It was a remarkable, unreal sight.
"The ship's capsizing!"
Rumbling crashes were still coming from inside the ship, whence rose a thousand-voiced cry of terror from those in the holds. We looked confusedly at each other. Then we jumped.
The water was so fantastically far beneath me that I thought I should never reach it; but all at once it had closed over me, and I sank and sank, feeling as though my body were broken in half. There was a roaring and seething in my ears, and inside my head something was throbbing faster and faster, louder and louder. In the end I could stand no more. I gave up. Now you're
Similar Books
