The Widow's War by Alan Williams

Author:Alan Williams [Williams, Alan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sapere Books
Published: 2020-11-07T05:00:00+00:00

La Vuelva appeared on the beach at Guajira twice that day, dressed in a tight-fitting khaki uniform under a jaunty peaked cap. The first occasion was to make a short address to the men, who had been assembled under the hot sun and stood in ranks of three, bearing their miscellaneous arms.

She spoke to them briefly, in a shrill passionate voice, calling upon them to remember the soul of her dead husband, and to recall the honour and traditions of the Island; and — in conclusion — telling them never to surrender: death was more glorious than defeat, and Gallo was no more than a vulgar prostitute of the Kremlin. The troops cheered long and loudly.

Her second appearance was in mid-afternoon, when again she was cheered; but this time she did not speak to the men. Instead, she conferred for some time with Commandant Moulins, and with his second-in-command, Capitano Rodriguez, who had shaved for the occasion and was wearing a clean uniform.

La Vuelva now had an air of quiet dignity, like a self-proclaimed leader who, of a sudden, finds herself a leader of men. After consulting with the two officers, she had concluded by ordering that the men must be ready, with all their weapons, and the landing-craft made ship-shape, by seven o’clock that evening. She had overruled Moulins’ objections to an evening attack: time was of the essence — and the men must be prepared for every eventuality.

She left them with the words: ‘You will be opposed by a so-called People’s Army which enjoys no confidence from the people. They are an army of oppression. They are not prepared to fight a force of liberation. What they have learnt, they have learnt second-hand, from the Russians, and the Russians have never been our Island’s friends. They are distant barbarous foreigners — impostors. We must root them out, destroy them. You are to be the destroyers. Do your duty. Your country awaits you!’

Afterwards, in the shabby Nissen, she demanded from Commandant Moulins a glass of cognac. He obliged her, with evident reluctance; then she lay down on one of the bunks and asked for a resume of the latest radio bulletins.

These had not changed. The situation on the Island was desperate. The earthquake, combined with the eruption of several volcanoes, had destroyed much of the central plain, and a thirty-foot tidal wave had ravaged the east coast, south of Montecristo. Meanwhile, the capital was still menaced by the dormant volcano, Monte Xatu.

Out on the beach, La Vuelva’s troops appeared little moved by the plight of their fellow countrymen on the Island. They were restive, excited. Commandant Moulins had mustered them together again during the afternoon. They came to a total of one hundred and thirty-eight men, with twelve officers. The disappearance of Ryan had caused him no distress: he had been secretly irritated at having his command passed over in such an arbitrary and eccentric fashion, and was also envious of the apparent interest that La Vuelva showed in this elderly ex-Nazi colonel.

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