A Midnight Clear: A Novel (23 page)

Mundy stands up and strides his forty-inch stride up and down outside the mattresses a few times.

“You know, Vance’ll never go for this on the basis of winning at chess. For him that’d be taking unfair advantage. We’ve got to make this look like random, dumb chance, and I know how to do it.”

We all stop and wait for Father to go on. He’s right. Wilkins can win at chess, playing us all at once, different games or the same game, without even trying.

“Here’s what we do. We’ll draw straws. Only all of us will know which straw is the winning one and we don’t draw it, maybe the second one from the end. I’ll hold the straws; Vance will trust me. I’ll work it out so he draws last and is sure to win. That way we won’t be sitting around here running a chess tournament with a house full of Germans while Ware or Love could butt in any minute. What do you think?”

We look at each other. Shutzer goes tiptoe over to Mundy.

“Let me kiss your armpit, Mundy. That rarefied atmosphere has not addled your brain as I’ve been convinced it had all these months. That’s just how we’ll do it. We know Mother’ll go along with this. He must know how much trouble he’s in. I think he’ll grab at the chance.”

Mel is still shaking his head, but he’s with us. I start warming the 506; I want to find out what’s happened to the first squad, if there’s any word yet. They crowd around me. God, we’re a mixture of smells, mostly bad. I think stinking feet is the worst of it; practically everybody has his boots off. We have it in our minds we’ve practically retired from this war.

There was a move-a-minute chess game going on when we came back from the patrol but it’s abandoned for my call.

I get Ware right away.

“How is it with the first squad, sir? Over.”

“No word yet. Over.”

I hope he doesn’t pick up the general moan behind me.

“They didn’t get back at all, sir? None of them? Over.”

“Nothing. Things are so bad here the motor pool and kitchen are packed up ready to take off; nobody knows which direction. Even the third battalion is engaged south. We can’t pull them out or the whole flank will collapse. We don’t know a Goddamned thing. Have you got that prisoner yet? Over.”

“We reconnoitered last night, sir, and I think we can pull one down tonight. We’ll hit the outpost about ten o’clock, just before they change the guard. Over.”

I turn my head, wink at the squad.

“Well, make it for sure. I’ll come out tonight, maybe Love, too, and we’ll pick up the prisoner to bring him back. Over.”

“Love’s coming out
here,
sir? Over.”

“Right. At least I think so. Over.”

“Things must be serious, sir. Over.”

“You have no idea. Love figures a Jerry squad on an outpost like that might be close to intelligence and know what’s going on. Love’s desperate; the Colonel’s climbing all over him. It’s like a madhouse around here. We keep having staff meetings and nobody has any idea what to do. Hennessee, the S1, has disappeared; nobody’s seen him in almost twenty-four hours. We have double perimeter guard all around headquarters and the perimeter’s pulled in tight. Over.”

“OK, sir. I don’t really think you have to come out. Tell Major Love we’ll have his prisoner for him sometime after twenty-four-hundred and we’ll jeep him straight to headquarters. No sense his taking a chance coming all the way out here; these woods are full of wandering patrols. Over.”

“I’ll tell Major Love that. I’m not exactly enthusiastic about driving on those roads at night in the snow without lights. Over.”

“We have our jeeps ready, sir, with chains. Miller turns the motor over every couple hours to keep the battery and water from freezing. We’re OK. We’ll get that prisoner in for you, sir. Over.”

Tinker’s balls, the last thing we want is Ware and Love roaming around out here. We’ll never get it worked out for Wilkins.

“OK. You do what you can. If your squad can pull this one off, you’ll square the whole I and R platoon with Love, that’s shit sure. Over and out.”

“Over and out, sir.”

I switch off the radio and watch the light fade. I look up. Mel’s standing behind me, his fists jammed into his sides.

“The entire first squad gone? God, there are only six of us left in the platoon. It’s like World War I; it keeps going on. My mind doesn’t believe I’m letting this happen to me.”

“Mel, we’ll just go on the patrol, do the shooting match, pick up our gremlin friends, then dash back to our castle before the dragons get here. We’ll leave Wilkins on the radio. That all makes sense to me.”

Gordon turns away.

“None of it makes sense. How can you make sense inside something like war which is basically nonsensical?”

 

Miller, Mundy and Shutzer have heard everything; there’s nothing more to say. My first impulse is to dash right out with Shutzer and get it over with. It’d be the simplest way. But the Germans want shooting noises; it’ll sound better if the whole squad’s there.

So we’ll leave Wilkins on the 506. We’ll pull it off fast, get back, run through Father Mundy’s straw pull, and we’re home free.

I figure we’ll go out at eleven; then we should have time enough to work over the whole business before Ware shows up. I still can’t believe Love will come scrambling around in the dark with a jeep where there’s any danger of an actual, real-life German patrol.

 

Before ten-thirty, we start getting ready. I tell Mother we’re going out to try for a prisoner. I tell him if we’re not back in two hours to call regiment. He’s obviously glad not to be on the patrol. Half-assed tiger patrols like this are the worst.

None of us is talking about the first squad. There’s nothing to say. I’ve pulled in the guard, so Wilkins will be alone at the château. I think of telling him to man the bridge post just to make it look good in case Ware does come. But I don’t. If things go right, it shouldn’t take us very long.

This time, we all put on snow jumpers. The room looks like hell. Maybe while we’re gone, Mother will straighten things up. He won’t have much else to do, and since he’ll be on radio, he can’t hide upstairs. I’ve got to admit I’m worried about him; as Mel said, he’s at a terrible disadvantage. It’s like one of those party games where everybody knows some secret or password and one person is being made a fool because he doesn’t know. It’s not fair but I’m hoping it’ll come out right.

We check rifles and grenades, sling on bandoliers as if we’re going on a serious patrol. Mostly it’s theater for Mother, to make it look good, but also you never know. Then again, Gordon and Mundy haven’t had much contact with these Germans except for the Christmas tableau and caroling; they could still be scared. All of us
should
be scared, but it’s so unreal we aren’t functioning properly. I’m still wishing they’d’ve let us have one prisoner for now, and push off the big capture scene till later. But maybe they know things we don’t. Maybe there
will
be an attack coming through here. Ware sure sounded scared enough.

I’m more nervous than I thought I’d be. Still, when we get outside, and moving, it isn’t so bad. It isn’t snowing and there’s strong moonlight. It’s the same as the night when the Germans built the scarecrow; fast-moving low clouds, opening and closing the moon, bending shadows, white, blue and black. When there’s a moon, with the snow, it’s almost light as day, moon sparkling on frozen crystals. I spread us at a ten-yard interval. Shutzer’s out as scout and I’m behind him. Mundy’s in back of me, then Miller, with Gordon bringing up the rear. It’s a regular patrol formation, only abbreviated. Around the bend, we stop to dress Miller in his costume.

The snow’s deep and powdery; it flips up with each step into the tops of my boots. There’re stars and a cold wind. I’ve had some fun ice-skating on nights like this, brooming off the surface of a creek and building a bonfire, but tonight seems quiet, unrelenting and expectant.

We head downstream toward the shack. I’ve decided to do the same dogleg we made the first time we came up on the lodge. This route we know, and we come in on the uphill side with the outpost below us. Even though they must be waiting for us, I’m worried about our first contact with that German outpost. We want to come down slowly, without scaring anybody. I’m still spinning wheels, expecting the worst.

When we get to the bottom of that last ridge, I signal the rest of the squad to stop; that is, Gordon and Mundy. Miller comes up in his costume. Shutzer agrees to approach the outpost first while we wait on the ridge. He and Miller will do all the arranging. It’s too dark to see much now, because the moon’s ducked behind a huge bank of clouds. We can just make out the white shining line of the road down at the bottom, between us and the lodge. We still can’t see the outpost we found the first time. Maybe they’re not manning it anymore. Maybe they’re like us, not so scared, more interested in preparing for the big surrender. Shutzer leans close to me.

“Well, here goes. I don’t know what to say so they won’t shoot at me. I’m just going down shouting ‘comrade.’”

Miller’s standing behind me.

“Sounds as if
you’re
the one surrendering. You sure you know what you’re doing here, Stan?”

“Don’t bug me, Miller.”

Miller stands back of me while Shutzer goes downhill. Stan’s saying “comrade” out loud as he goes, but not actually yelling. I hear a voice from the dark say
“Kamerad”
back. I motion the rest of us farther up the ridge till we all have a good field of fire over the lodge. I tell everybody to cover Shutzer and be ready to fire if anything goes wrong. We definitely have the advantage in case of a firefight. I’m becoming more and more convinced the Germans are being honest about this.

I keep my eye on Shutzer. I watch as he walks to where the outpost was last time. Then I see the outline of a German as he crawls out of his hole; the two of them start downhill toward the lodge. I’m looking for some sign from Shutzer but there’s nothing. I see them cross the road and work their way up the other hill. The moon’s come out again and it’s perfectly clear as Shutzer walks across the flat area in front of the lodge and goes inside.

We wait. There’s nothing else to do. Shutzer had his rifle slung on his shoulder the whole way, so he must feel confident.

After maybe five minutes, Shutzer comes to the door of the lodge and waves us on down. I check to see if Gordon and Mundy are in position.

It’s not much for fire cover if something goes wrong; but there’s nothing else we can do. I could just send Miller but I want to know what’s happening, what the arrangements are going to be.

Miller’s watching me. He saw Shutzer and he’s waiting to see what we do. I signal and we both start walking downhill. The German on outpost, the one who took Shutzer into the lodge, is coming back toward us. We pass at the edge of the road. It’s a weird feeling in the flitting moonlight, so close, both of us armed, passing like that, smiling at each other in a secret way; it really is almost as if the war’s over.

We work our way uphill to the open space. Shutzer’s waiting; the Germans are all inside.

“What’s the deal, Stan? Everything still all right?”

“They want to talk to our officer, Herr Müller, here. I’ll bet it’s because I’m a Jew.”

Miller does a near-perfect jaw thrust.

“Fuck you, Shutzer.”

We’re on the edge of giggles. It’s the first straight-out intrasquad “fuck you” in months.

“OK, you inferior-type, nick-pricked Jew, take me to our real leaders. How many of them are there anyway?”

“Six, plus the one who went to the outpost; seven altogether. If they’re actually going to give up, why keep one on guard? Who the hell are they guarding themselves from anyway?”

“Maybe other Germans. Who knows. Maybe they have a Major Love of their own; Übergruppenführer Liebe, or something.”

I look around and take a deep breath. I’m trying to keep control. I’m between rushing into things and abandoning the whole project.

“Seven, that fits. OK. We’re on. Let’s go see how we do it. By the way, where’s Snow White?”

“We’ll negotiate that one. Miller, you get seconds. Won’t here doesn’t know what women are for, anyway.”

 

We go inside. It’s smoky and smelly but better than our place. There are bunks along the walls. In fact, except for practically no windows, it’s like a barracks. At the foot of each bed is a neat pile of equipment. Hunt would’ve been happy to see this; it’s almost as if they’re ready for some kind of Saturday inspection. I wonder if they always keep it this neat or they’ve neatened things up for us. These Germans are even good at surrendering. That’s what I call
real
soldiering.

At the far end of the room there’s a fire burning. Most of the Germans are standing around it, murmuring to each other. They look over their shoulders when we come in. The moonlight coming through the door behind us is blue and hard cold; bright compared to the dark yellow-orange blackness of the inside. The noncom comes away from the others, toward us. After he and Miller exchange those peculiar short headjerk nods, he starts talking with Shutzer.