Behind Hitler's Lines by Thomas H. Taylor

Author:Thomas H. Taylor [Taylor, Thomas H.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-0-307-55458-1
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2009-05-05T16:00:00+00:00

Gintjee and his mucker of button fame were probably known to Joe but lost in his slow-healing head, as are most memories from XII-A and IV-B except for his twenty-first birthday, celebrated with a sugared lump of dough baked on the hut stove, a cigarette for a candle. The Germans had a present for him too, a few weeks later, when “Beyrle” was read out at roll call for transport to another stalag. Hundreds of Americans were joining him (but neither Rosie nor Gintjee), many unhappy to leave the tolerable routine of IV-B, but not Joe, who felt bridled by a chain of command that seemed reluctant to bring a rash Yank into their escape plans, if there were any.* They reminded him of the pilot of his Lysander, war-weary, war-wise, and willing to wait for war's end. Joe had been a .400 hitter in high school, but oh for two against the Germans. He wanted another at bat, and not with a cricket paddle.

Joe hadn't found a really kindred kriege (his IV-B muckers had been shuffled several times), and it was accepted practice not to ask personal questions because they could ignite short tempers and end in fights, which burned up scarce energy and satisfied only the authorities, who never ceased trying to turn krieges against one another. Nonetheless IV-B had been an education for Joe, thanks mostly to what he'd learned from two Rangers who'd been captured at Dieppe in the summer of 1942. They were the senior American krieges but didn't transfer with the others because the Germans had permanently classified them as Canadian. Joe can't remember then-names. Names didn't matter much; men went by monikers like King Corporal and Hockey Shorts. Joe's was Spud because he was always scrounging potato peels.

The two crease-faced, stubbly Rangers did a lot to clear his head and bring it to the most practical level, the only one that could sustain any other level. Their patient instruction reminded him of Saint Joseph's basketball coach, who first showed him which foot to pivot on, what pass to look for, which teammate was in the best position. Fundamentals, essentials:

Save some food from every meal, no matter how much is available from the IRC or won by gambling. Tomorrow there could be none.

Don't expect to learn about a successful escape. The krauts won't want to admit it and the escape committee doesn't want to be flooded with proposals.

No matter how tired you are, exercise. The energy you put out actually adds to overall strength even when it tires you out. Like stashed food, you'll need that deep strength when you get sick, as everyone does sooner or later. Exercise makes it later.

If your legs swell, it means you may be getting beriberi, so trade for anything that has protein.

The MOC has a net of informers, so be careful about what you say and to whom. It could be worse to be on the wrong side of the MOC than to piss off the krauts, sort of like the choice between being fingered by the police or the Mafia.

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