Immigrant Soldier by K. Lang-Slattery

Author:K. Lang-Slattery
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-9906742-5-2
Publisher: K. Lang-Slattery
Published: 2017-02-27T00:00:00+00:00

IN THE NEXT WEEKS, TRAINING took on a more practical dimension. One afternoon Herman’s class was taken out to a tree-topped hill, told to observe the valley below, and to take notes of what they saw. They concealed themselves among bushes and grass with cut foliage tied to their helmets. Propped up on their elbows, they scanned the area around them through binoculars. Herman could feel Jake take in air sharply when a platoon of German infantry marched down the road and into view.

Walter, on the other side of Herman, inched forward in the tall weeds and cocked his head toward the marching soldiers. “That’s the Composite guys, Sergeant” he whispered.

Herman heard Jake slowly let out his breath.

The infantry moved toward them, followed by tanks and trucks, looking just like the German military armaments they had memorized. Walter whispered again. “I heard that some of the tanks are just cardboard.”

“They look real enough to me,” Jake said, his voice hushed. “It’s like watching a newsreel of the invasion of the Netherlands.”

Herman pushed a stalk of rough grass away from his nose. He wanted to take all this seriously, to earn good grades that would speed him into the fighting. Jake was already scribbling in his little notebook, but Walter always had one more thing to say. “Some of the tanks are real. Captured in Africa . . .”

Herman turned to Walter. “Now be quiet and pay attention. Remember what the captain told us last week. If we don’t pass these classes, we’ll be assigned to the Composite Group ourselves—for the duration. Do you want to spend the war in Maryland as a pretend German?”

Walter shook his head. “No, sir. No, sir, I don’t,” he said and clamped his lips closed. He put his binoculars up to his eyes to study the troops below.

Another platoon came into view and set up a machine gun nest beside the road. For three hours Herman’s class observed the military movement they knew to be fake. When they were trucked back to the classroom, they were told to prepare a written report of all they had seen. It was due that evening before they could go to the mess hall for dinner.

Soon classroom content focused on methods of interrogation. First, and most important, they had to learn all the rules of the Geneva Conventions, the basis of legal interrogation. After they knew the rules by heart, the classes shifted emphasis to practical information on how to interrogate newly captured prisoners. One thing was made clear—all types of torture were forbidden by the Geneva laws.

Prisoners were not required to give any information beyond their name, date of birth, rank, and service number. “But your job,” the instructor told the students, “is to make them want to tell you more. The most basic information they might let drop—the mention of a town they marched through the day before, what they had for supper, or the amount of sleep they had during the night, could help determine the degree of resistance to expect in an upcoming battle.

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