positions. Suffering had a universal language.
Stretcher-bearers hustled wounded Republican fighters to aid stationsbehindthe lines. If the men got there alive, they had a pretty good chance to stay that way. To his surprise, Vaclav had discovered that they knew far more about giving blood transfusions in the field here than they had in either Czechoslovakia or France.
He crawled out of the bombproof and dusted himself off. The stink of shit hung in the air. Maybe it came from men killed on the spot, maybe frommen scared past endurance. He’d fouled himself a time or two. He wasn’t proud of it—who would be? But he wasn’t anywhere near so ashamed as he had been when it happened. He wasn’t the only one it had happened to—nowhere near, in fact. It was just one of those things.
Sergeant Halévy came out, too. “Such fun,” he said.
“Fun,” Vaclav echoed in a hollow voice. “Right.”
“If Sanjurjo were watchingthe football game right now—” Halévy said.
“Then what?” Vaclav broke in. “I’d have to spot him. I’d have to know he was there to spot in the first place. He’d have to be somewhere the rifle could reach. I’d have to be somewhere I could shoot from. And I’d have to hit him when I did. Snipers never talk about all the times they miss, you know. So why don’t you give it a rest, huh?”
“All right,”Halévy said. “But Sanjurjo does come right up to the front line to see what’s going on. Whatever else you can say about the miserable fat turd, he’s no coward.”
“Oh, joy,” Jezek answered. Men who hadn’t seen action always figured the miserable turds on the other side wouldn’t show courage. But he’d seen that the Nazis were as brave as Czechs or Frenchmen or Tommies. No one here in Spain had everaccused the Nationalists of lacking balls. Brains, yes, but brains weren’t the same thing. Not even close.
“I’m just telling you it’s not impossible you’ll get a shot at him, that’s all.” Halévy wouldn’t leave it alone.
“And I’m just telling you it’s not impossible monkeys’ll fly out my ass next time I fart, but I’m not gonna wait around till they do,” Jezek retorted irritably.
He couldn’tfaze the Jew. “With all the
singe
we’ve both eaten, it wouldn’t surprise me one damn bit,” Halévy said.
Singe
was what the French called the tinned beef they got from Argentina. It meant monkeymeat. Vaclav had never eaten real monkey, so he couldn’t say how much
singe
tasted like it. He was sure nobody in his right mind would eat the stuff if he didn’t have to.
He did say, “That Spam the Americansship over is a hell of a lot better.”
“You’re right.” Halévy grinned and made as if to lick his chops. “It sure is.”
“It’s pork,” Vaclav reminded him, not without malice.
“You’re right,” Halévy agreed once more. “It sure is.” Vaclav thought that over, then shrugged. He wasn’t a perfect Christian. Why should he expect the French sergeant to make a perfect Jew?
SURABAYA , on the north coast ofJava, was even hotter and muggier than Manila. Pete McGill hadn’t dreamt any place could be, hell included, but there you were. And here he was, with the
Boise
, thanking the Lord the Japs hadn’t sunk the light cruiser before she got here.
Joe Orsatti had an answer for the weather. Joe Orsatti, Pete was discovering, had an answer for everything. Sometimes he had a good one; sometimes he was fullof crap. But the other Marine always liked to hear himself talk.
“We’re on the other side of the Equator now,” he said. “So it’s summer here, not winter. No wonder it’s so fucking sticky.”
“We aren’t more than a long piss on the other side of the Equator,” Pete pointed out. “Looks to me like it’d be this way all the fuckin’ time here.”
“Maybe that’s what makes the local wogs so jumpy,” Orsattisaid. “Shit, if I had to live in a steam bath the goddamn year around, you can bet your sorry ass I’d
Stretcher-bearers hustled wounded Republican fighters to aid stationsbehindthe lines. If the men got there alive, they had a pretty good chance to stay that way. To his surprise, Vaclav had discovered that they knew far more about giving blood transfusions in the field here than they had in either Czechoslovakia or France.
He crawled out of the bombproof and dusted himself off. The stink of shit hung in the air. Maybe it came from men killed on the spot, maybe frommen scared past endurance. He’d fouled himself a time or two. He wasn’t proud of it—who would be? But he wasn’t anywhere near so ashamed as he had been when it happened. He wasn’t the only one it had happened to—nowhere near, in fact. It was just one of those things.
Sergeant Halévy came out, too. “Such fun,” he said.
“Fun,” Vaclav echoed in a hollow voice. “Right.”
“If Sanjurjo were watchingthe football game right now—” Halévy said.
“Then what?” Vaclav broke in. “I’d have to spot him. I’d have to know he was there to spot in the first place. He’d have to be somewhere the rifle could reach. I’d have to be somewhere I could shoot from. And I’d have to hit him when I did. Snipers never talk about all the times they miss, you know. So why don’t you give it a rest, huh?”
“All right,”Halévy said. “But Sanjurjo does come right up to the front line to see what’s going on. Whatever else you can say about the miserable fat turd, he’s no coward.”
“Oh, joy,” Jezek answered. Men who hadn’t seen action always figured the miserable turds on the other side wouldn’t show courage. But he’d seen that the Nazis were as brave as Czechs or Frenchmen or Tommies. No one here in Spain had everaccused the Nationalists of lacking balls. Brains, yes, but brains weren’t the same thing. Not even close.
“I’m just telling you it’s not impossible you’ll get a shot at him, that’s all.” Halévy wouldn’t leave it alone.
“And I’m just telling you it’s not impossible monkeys’ll fly out my ass next time I fart, but I’m not gonna wait around till they do,” Jezek retorted irritably.
He couldn’tfaze the Jew. “With all the
singe
we’ve both eaten, it wouldn’t surprise me one damn bit,” Halévy said.
Singe
was what the French called the tinned beef they got from Argentina. It meant monkeymeat. Vaclav had never eaten real monkey, so he couldn’t say how much
singe
tasted like it. He was sure nobody in his right mind would eat the stuff if he didn’t have to.
He did say, “That Spam the Americansship over is a hell of a lot better.”
“You’re right.” Halévy grinned and made as if to lick his chops. “It sure is.”
“It’s pork,” Vaclav reminded him, not without malice.
“You’re right,” Halévy agreed once more. “It sure is.” Vaclav thought that over, then shrugged. He wasn’t a perfect Christian. Why should he expect the French sergeant to make a perfect Jew?
SURABAYA , on the north coast ofJava, was even hotter and muggier than Manila. Pete McGill hadn’t dreamt any place could be, hell included, but there you were. And here he was, with the
Boise
, thanking the Lord the Japs hadn’t sunk the light cruiser before she got here.
Joe Orsatti had an answer for the weather. Joe Orsatti, Pete was discovering, had an answer for everything. Sometimes he had a good one; sometimes he was fullof crap. But the other Marine always liked to hear himself talk.
“We’re on the other side of the Equator now,” he said. “So it’s summer here, not winter. No wonder it’s so fucking sticky.”
“We aren’t more than a long piss on the other side of the Equator,” Pete pointed out. “Looks to me like it’d be this way all the fuckin’ time here.”
“Maybe that’s what makes the local wogs so jumpy,” Orsattisaid. “Shit, if I had to live in a steam bath the goddamn year around, you can bet your sorry ass I’d
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