(1967) Liquidate Paris by Sven Hassel

Author:Sven Hassel
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fiction, War & Military
ISBN: 9780297865803
Publisher: Orion
Published: 1968-01-02T05:00:00+00:00

'Skol,' said Little John.

I don't believe he intended to be funny. He was so drunk that to him it doubtless seemed a perfectly apt remark with which to greet a superior officer on a tour of inspection. Löwe, however, interpreted it as a piece of sheer impertinence. He advanced upon Little John in a fury, and Little John, by now thoroughly confused, dropped his rifle to the ground.

'God in heaven!' screamed Löwe, who was shaking with rage. He turned furiously upon the Old Man. 'Feldwebel Beier, this is the most ill-disciplined section in the whole company and I hold you entirely responsible! Get these men sobered up immediately. I don't give a damn how you do it, I don't care if you have to run up and down through the bloody beetroots all night, but if I find single man from this section suffering from drink in half an hour's time I'll put the whole damn lot of you on a charge!'

He stalked away with his back held rigid and his head high in the air. Little John sighed lustily.

'I don't get the feeling he loves us any more,' he said.

'Who can blame him? retorted the Old Man, sourly.

He bent over the unconscious Gregor and began slapping his cheeks and flipping his head from side to side. Porta, who had quietly made himself scarce during the Lieutenant's tirade, now appeared horn the shadows of a nearby house triumphantly waving a banjo and an accordion.

'I've found an orchestra!' he shouted.

'Well bloody put it away again!' snapped the Old Man. 'You start playing that lot, they'll hear us fifty kilometres off. And I'm warning you, any more trouble from this section and we'll all be facing three days in the cooler when we get back.'

'If we get back,' said Porta, unmoved.

The Americans had crawled cautiously out of the trench and were staring wonderingly after the departing figure of Lt. Löwe.

'Gee, they sure are tough with you boys,' said the corporal, feelingly.

He took the banjo from Porta and strummed a few chords on it. Barcelona at once snatched up the accordion, Porta pulled out his flute and Little John his mouth organ.

'Jesus,' said the Old Man. 'Don't you people ever learn?'

'Too old to pick up new habits now,' said Porta. 'Let's try "Three Lilies"…

Ready? One, two, three——'

'Dreg Lilies, dreg Lilies [we sang, loudly], Die outflank' rich au mien grab…

Three lilies, three white lilies,

I shall plant them on my grave…'

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