Nowhere in Africa by Stefanie Zweig

Author:Stefanie Zweig [Stefanie Zweig]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Terrace Books, a trade imprint of the University of Wisconsin Press

13

ON THE MORNING of June 6, 1944, two hours before the wake-up call, Walter was sitting in the empty mess hall. The invigorating cool of the yellow moonlit night crept through the narrow open windows and evaporated into the wooden walls, which for short, unexpectedly pleasant moments smelled as fresh as the cedars of Ol’ Joro Orok. The time between darkness and dawn was a welcome present his sleeplessness gave to Walter, ideal for sorting out thoughts and images, writing letters, and, undisturbed by the suspicious glances of those soldiers who had the good fortune of having the right country of birth and too little imagination also to appreciate it, searching for the news in German. He tucked the big khaki shirt, which was much more suited to war during a European winter than to the hot days at the southern edge of the soda lake of Nakuru, into his trousers and enjoyed his contentment as the most exciting occurrence of his new security.

After his first four weeks in the military, he had still not sufficiently gotten used to running water, electric light, and fulfilled days not to enjoy them consciously as blessings, of which he had been deprived for so long. Like a child, he found happiness in going to the orderly room in his free time and looking at the telephone there. Sometimes, he even lifted the receiver just to get pleasure from the sound of the dial tone.

Every day anew, he enjoyed listening to the radio and not having to worry about the battery. When the army dentist, roughly and not too skillfully, pulled the two teeth that had plagued him since the first days at Ol’ Joro Orok, he even considered this pain as proof that he had come far—he did not have to worry about the bill. Whenever his physical exhaustion and, during the last few days, his heavy sweats allowed it, he granted himself the luxury of pedantically preparing a balance sheet for his once again abruptly changed life.

In one month, Walter had heard, talked, and even laughed more than during the five years on the farms in Rongai and Ol’ Joro Orok. He ate four meals a day, two of them with meat, which did not cost him anything, had underwear, shoes, and more trousers than he needed; was able to buy his cigarettes at a soldiers’ discount; and was entitled to a weekly ration of alcohol, which a Scotsman with a moustache had already twice traded him for two friendly slaps on the back. His pay as a private in the British army enabled him to afford Regina’s school and even send a pound to Jettel in Nairobi. In addition, she received a monthly allowance from the army. Above all, Walter lived without the constant fear that each letter could bring the dismissal from an unloved position and destroy him.

His locker contained paper and envelopes; between empty bottles and full ashtrays stood an inkwell, and next to it lay a pen. The

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