you’ll look like a Fascist general.”
“I thinkI’d rather get laid,” Vaclav said. Halévy laughed. Vaclav sent him a sour stare. “And how are you getting connections? You don’t speak Spanish.”
“No, but if people here speak any foreign language, they speak French.” Halévy made it sound natural and easy.
It probably was, for him. Vaclav grunted, pinched out the cigarette’s coal, and stowed the little butt in a tobacco pouch. Waste not, wantnot. A Jew would land on his feet anywhere—even in Spain, evidently.
Somebody on the other side fired a rifle. The bullet whined high over the Republican line. It would come down somewhere, but long odds it would hurt anybody when it did. A lot of shots fired in war were like that. You wanted to get the other guys, but you didn’t want them to get you. So you fired without sticking your head upto see what you were doing. You made them keep their heads down, anyway.
More often than not, the Czechs and Internationals holding this stretch of the line would have ignored such a wild round. But guys here must have been jumpy, because two rifles in quick succession answered the Fascist shot.
That spooked Sanjurjo’s men. Vaclav couldn’t imagine what they were thinking. That the veterans onthe other side would swarm out of the trenches and charge them? They had to be nuts to believe anything like that.
Nuts or not, more of them fired back. Bullets started snapping past, much closer to the trenches. You didn’t want to stick your head up over the parapet, or you’d stop one with your nose. Halévy chambered a round in his rifle. “I didn’t much want a firefight, but …” He shrugged.War wasn’t about what you wanted. It was about what you got stuck with.
Along with the antitank rifle, Vaclav carried a pistol to defend himself at close range. The big piece was no good for work like that. Neitherweapon was much use in a fight like this. Machine guns on both sides started yammering. Vaclav realized what a long way from home he was. But he didn’t want to be back in Prague, notwith the Nazis’ swastika flying over it.
Mortar bombs whispered when they came down. The first couple burst a few bays over from the sniper and the Jewish sergeant. Vaclav had dug a bombproof into the forward edge of the trench, with some help from Halévy. They’d reinforced it with bits and pieces of wood scavenged here, there, and everywhere. Both men dove into it now.
If a mortar round burstright behind them, even the bombproof wouldn’t help. Vaclav wished such thoughts wouldn’t cross his mind. They just made this business even more horrible than it would be otherwise.
“What if they try to rush us?” Halévy yelled through the din.
“What if they do?” Vaclav returned. “The machine guns will slaughter them, that’s what.” The machine guns had heavily protected nests. Even a direct hitfrom a mortar bomb might not take one out. An ordinary soldier who got up on the firing step, though, was asking to get murdered.
Before the war started, Jezek had figured Jews for cowards. He’d got over that. The ones in the Czechoslovakian army hated Hitler even more than Czechs did, which was saying something. They made up a disproportionate number of the men who served under the government-in-exile.And Benjamin Halévy held up his end of the bargain as well as anyone could want.
Vaclav still didn’t like Jews. He saw no reason why he should. But he wasn’t dumb enough to disbelieve what he saw with his own eyes. Jews weren’t yellow, or no more yellow than anybody else.
Little by little, the firefight ebbed. There was no particular reason for that, any more than there had been for its start.Combat wasn’t always rational. Not even a goddamn German General Staff officer with a volume of Clausewitz under his arm could deny that.
Wounded men moaned or shrieked, depending on how badly they were hurt. Off in the distance, the same sounds rose from the Nationalists’
“I thinkI’d rather get laid,” Vaclav said. Halévy laughed. Vaclav sent him a sour stare. “And how are you getting connections? You don’t speak Spanish.”
“No, but if people here speak any foreign language, they speak French.” Halévy made it sound natural and easy.
It probably was, for him. Vaclav grunted, pinched out the cigarette’s coal, and stowed the little butt in a tobacco pouch. Waste not, wantnot. A Jew would land on his feet anywhere—even in Spain, evidently.
Somebody on the other side fired a rifle. The bullet whined high over the Republican line. It would come down somewhere, but long odds it would hurt anybody when it did. A lot of shots fired in war were like that. You wanted to get the other guys, but you didn’t want them to get you. So you fired without sticking your head upto see what you were doing. You made them keep their heads down, anyway.
More often than not, the Czechs and Internationals holding this stretch of the line would have ignored such a wild round. But guys here must have been jumpy, because two rifles in quick succession answered the Fascist shot.
That spooked Sanjurjo’s men. Vaclav couldn’t imagine what they were thinking. That the veterans onthe other side would swarm out of the trenches and charge them? They had to be nuts to believe anything like that.
Nuts or not, more of them fired back. Bullets started snapping past, much closer to the trenches. You didn’t want to stick your head up over the parapet, or you’d stop one with your nose. Halévy chambered a round in his rifle. “I didn’t much want a firefight, but …” He shrugged.War wasn’t about what you wanted. It was about what you got stuck with.
Along with the antitank rifle, Vaclav carried a pistol to defend himself at close range. The big piece was no good for work like that. Neitherweapon was much use in a fight like this. Machine guns on both sides started yammering. Vaclav realized what a long way from home he was. But he didn’t want to be back in Prague, notwith the Nazis’ swastika flying over it.
Mortar bombs whispered when they came down. The first couple burst a few bays over from the sniper and the Jewish sergeant. Vaclav had dug a bombproof into the forward edge of the trench, with some help from Halévy. They’d reinforced it with bits and pieces of wood scavenged here, there, and everywhere. Both men dove into it now.
If a mortar round burstright behind them, even the bombproof wouldn’t help. Vaclav wished such thoughts wouldn’t cross his mind. They just made this business even more horrible than it would be otherwise.
“What if they try to rush us?” Halévy yelled through the din.
“What if they do?” Vaclav returned. “The machine guns will slaughter them, that’s what.” The machine guns had heavily protected nests. Even a direct hitfrom a mortar bomb might not take one out. An ordinary soldier who got up on the firing step, though, was asking to get murdered.
Before the war started, Jezek had figured Jews for cowards. He’d got over that. The ones in the Czechoslovakian army hated Hitler even more than Czechs did, which was saying something. They made up a disproportionate number of the men who served under the government-in-exile.And Benjamin Halévy held up his end of the bargain as well as anyone could want.
Vaclav still didn’t like Jews. He saw no reason why he should. But he wasn’t dumb enough to disbelieve what he saw with his own eyes. Jews weren’t yellow, or no more yellow than anybody else.
Little by little, the firefight ebbed. There was no particular reason for that, any more than there had been for its start.Combat wasn’t always rational. Not even a goddamn German General Staff officer with a volume of Clausewitz under his arm could deny that.
Wounded men moaned or shrieked, depending on how badly they were hurt. Off in the distance, the same sounds rose from the Nationalists’
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