If you had told him late in 1940, that in a year’s time he would be an invisible man crawling through the midst of a raid to some position of comparative personal security, with a deafening6 anti-aircraft barrage7 beating the wits out of him, and flares8 and parachutists and a number of gigantic troop carriers raining down upon him, he would probably have contrived9 some minor10 mutilation that would have absolved11 him from any active participation12 in that sort of thing A vague self-reproach floundered through the thudding and jumping in his brain.
“Bloody fool I been,” he muttered. u Never saw a thing ahead.”
That was his state of mind, within ten minutes of the moment that transfigured him into a national hero.
What happened was very simple. Tucked up at last under a bunker, Edward Albert felt secure from anything but a direct hit. There he could abide13 the issue, prepared to emerge either for surrender or the cheering when comparative quiet was restored. And then he became aware of men crawling discreetly14 up the other side of the bunker. He screwed his head round to look at them and perceived a gleam of bayonets. There were at least three of them. The heads whispered and waited for an interval15. Then one of these shadowy men fired a shot at something ahead and a second jumped down within a yard of Edward Albert and pointed16. They began to talk very rapidly — in Polish. But to Edward Albert, Polish and German were all one. The next man might tread on him and he’d be bayonetted for a certainty. They’d all stick their bayonets into him. With a wild yell he leapt to his feet and ran. They shouted something and ran after him. And right ahead he saw a group of dark figures struggling with parachutes and encumbrances17. And they too were shouting German!
Germans behind him, Germans before him, and no quarter!
I have told my story badly if I have given you the impression that Edward Albert was an abject18 coward. Probably no human being who is properly nourished is that. Young children are easily terrified, but I am speaking of adults.
I have shown you a human being growing up in a debasing and discouraging social atmosphere, so that he was not so much born mean as had had meanness thrust upon him. All Edward Albert’s story, like the true story of every human being, is a story of resentments19 and rebellions, cramped20 and limited though they were. You have seen how he broke through his discretions and astonished Horry Budd. You have seen him astonishing the female of his species. Now, cornered as he imagined himself to be and hopeless, he broke through his cowering21 “instinct of self-preservation”, as they call it, altogether, and revealed himself a thing of frantic22 violence. His yell became a yell of despair and hatred23. He leapt upon his fate. His green face and fluttering scraps24 of garbage bounding out of the night amidst the concussions25 of the battle must have had a nightmare effect upon those fumbling26 and uncertain young Nazis27. He whirled his rifle round his head, smiting28 these dismayed and entangled29 men to the earth, beating them down, heedless of their belated cries of “Kamerad!” He had killed four men and disabled seven others before the three Poles who had been running after him came up to complete his victory.
“While we were waiting for supports to come up,” they testified, “he leapt out of the ground at our feet, shouted to us to follow him, and rushed the position the enemy detachment was trying to consolidate30. . . . ”
It became apparent to Edward Albert that he was having his hand shaken by a Polish officer who spoke31 some English. The climax32 of the uproar33 within his brain and without, was past. Slowly but surely the realisation of what he had done dawned upon him.
He rearranged the facts with the same readiness with which he had accepted his triumph in the annual cricket match. The sunrise revealed the complete failure of the German attempt to test the strength of the Brighthampton coast defences. They had established no foothold. The mopping-up was over and there had been remarkably34 few casualties among the defenders35. Mostly these had occurred among the exposed gunners on the beach beyond Casing East Cliff. A minimised account of the whole affair — lest panic be created — was released in the one o’clock bulletin. And Edward Albert, his heroism36 further developed by a liberal experience of Polish vodka, returned, weary, excessively dirty, drunk and triumphant37 to his home. Mr Droop38 and the pavement designer had preceded him. They had reported that he had been in the thick of the fighting with some Poles and Canadians, but he had not been hurt, they had seen him afterwards drinking at the Polish canteen, and so Mary and the whole of battle-scarred Morningside (for there were scores of broken windows) were out to receive him,
He was not singing, but if you had seen him on a silent film you would have thought he was singing. There was song in his gestures. He looked less like the seemly, almost punctiliously39 dressed golfer for whom she did her wifely duty than an intoxicated40 piece of hedge.
As he drew near her, and the neighbours closed in around him, he uttered these words.
“We mopped ’em up,” he said.
“Taint all you’ve mopped up,” said Mrs Tewler,
“Them Poles are so’jers and gent’men. Gent’men, mind you. They’re the boys! Nat’lly I had to have a drop with them. This vodka. . . . Cleanest drink I ever ‘ad. . . . ”
“Tell us all about it,” said Mr Pildington.
“Not till he’s had a wash and a rest,” said Mrs Tewler.
“He’s fairly done up.”
“I’m fairly done up,” said this staggering mass of garbage, leaning heavily upon her. She guided him home,
“I’m so glad they didn’t hurt him,” she said. “He hasn’t got a scratch.”
As she mothered him through his bath and into his bed, he was partly asleep and partly meditative41 on his own astonishing exploits.
“I let ’em have it — right and left. . . .
“Get out of England, I says, you come to the wrong place . . .
“Just me with these Jerries — they don’t know ‘ow to fight Gaw knows what they thought they were doing —“Kamerad, he says, Kamerad! One chap I ‘it. Fat lot of Kamerad ‘e got out of me. . . . ”
In the course of twenty-four hours Edward Albert reappeared in the world of men clean and in his right uniform, as anxious as anyone to learn the particulars of the great fight he had been in. His camouflage42 suit had been injured beyond repair, and his wife was reconstructing it. Stephen Crane, when he wrote his Red Badge of Courage, found that what he got from the ordinary veteran of the American Civil War, was what the man had read about his battles in the newspapers. That had served to rationalise and give phrases for his own fierce jumble of memories. Edward Albert was in an exactly parallel state of mind. His reconstruction43 of his story was greatly facilitated by the romantic generosity44 of the gallant45 Polish officer, only too anxious to give an Englishman credit for leadership in the little affair, and only too eager to elaborate the story with all and sundry46, over a glass or so of vodka. In spite of the Ministry47 of Information, a rumour48 that a real Cretan air landing had been repulsed49 at Brighthampton spread to London. About ten days later a “postcript” upon the London wireless50 told the Polish officer’s version of the story, suppressing all names and dates, and the incident was cabled in appreciative51 terms to America, to illustrate52 the invincible53 spirit of the ordinary unpretending Englishman. Edward Albert began to realise where he stood now in the world’s esteem54. He was the ordinary unpretending Englishman, who had to be stung to show his mettle55; and then it was he thought of his chosen epitaph, “Deeds not Words .”
Only in one quarter did he feel the chill breath of scepticism and that was where a happy husband might least expect it. She listened; she asked no questions; but she made him fed unreal even to himself.
So that when at last the people up there decided56 to mark their appreciation57 of the Brighthampton incident by a temperate58 distribution of honours, and the George’s Cross fell to Edward Albert, it was Mary to whom he hurried first.
“I don’t deserve it,” he said
“Don’t deserve what?”
“I only did what any Englishman would have done.”
She waited patiently.
“It’s really meant for the whole platoon of us. It’s what I have to wear for all of them.”
“You can’t wear it until it’s dry.”
“Wear what?”
“That camouflage.”
“I wasn’t talking of that. No. Mary! They’re going to give me the George’s Cross, The George’s Cross for courage. Aren’t you glad?”
“If it’s a pleasure to you, Teddy.”
“But it’s wonderful, Mary! Don’t you see how wonderful it is?”
“It’s wonderful. Yes. . . . There’s no telling what they won’t do next,” said Mary.
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1
frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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jumble
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| vt.使混乱，混杂；n.混乱；杂乱的一堆 | |
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crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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6
deafening
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| adj. 振耳欲聋的, 极喧闹的 动词deafen的现在分词形式 | |
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7
barrage
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| n.火力网，弹幕 | |
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flares
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| n.喇叭裤v.（使）闪耀( flare的第三人称单数 )；（使）（船舷）外倾；（使）鼻孔张大；（使）（衣裙、酒杯等）呈喇叭形展开 | |
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contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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absolved
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| 宣告…无罪，赦免…的罪行，宽恕…的罪行( absolve的过去式和过去分词 )； 不受责难，免除责任 [义务] ,开脱（罪责） | |
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participation
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| n.参与，参加，分享 | |
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abide
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| vi.遵守；坚持；vt.忍受 | |
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discreetly
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| ad.(言行)审慎地，慎重地 | |
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interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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encumbrances
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| n.负担( encumbrance的名词复数 )；累赘；妨碍；阻碍 | |
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abject
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| adj.极可怜的，卑屈的 | |
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resentments
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| （因受虐待而）愤恨，不满，怨恨( resentment的名词复数 ) | |
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cramped
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| a.狭窄的 | |
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cowering
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| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的现在分词 ) | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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concussions
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| n.震荡( concussion的名词复数 )；脑震荡；冲击；震动 | |
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fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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Nazis
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| n.（德国的）纳粹党员( Nazi的名词复数 )；纳粹主义 | |
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28
smiting
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的现在分词 ) | |
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29
entangled
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| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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consolidate
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| v.使加固，使加强；(把...)联为一体，合并 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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32
climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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defenders
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| n.防御者( defender的名词复数 )；守卫者；保护者；辩护者 | |
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36
heroism
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| n.大无畏精神，英勇 | |
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triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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droop
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| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
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punctiliously
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intoxicated
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| 喝醉的，极其兴奋的 | |
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meditative
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| adj.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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42
camouflage
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| n./v.掩饰，伪装 | |
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reconstruction
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| n.重建，再现，复原 | |
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44
generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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ministry
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| n.(政府的)部；牧师 | |
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rumour
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| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
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49
repulsed
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| v.击退( repulse的过去式和过去分词 )；驳斥；拒绝 | |
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50
wireless
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| adj.无线的；n.无线电 | |
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51
appreciative
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| adj.有鉴赏力的，有眼力的；感激的 | |
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52
illustrate
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| v.举例说明，阐明；图解，加插图 | |
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53
invincible
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| adj.不可征服的，难以制服的 | |
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54
esteem
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| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
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55
mettle
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| n.勇气，精神 | |
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56
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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temperate
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| adj.温和的，温带的，自我克制的，不过分的 | |
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