They gossiped about their classmates: a couple of juicy divorces, a premature11 death, a brilliant leader turned alcoholic12. Digger bemoaned13 his burdens as a battleship exec. His captain had gotten where he was with sheer luck, charm, and a Marvelous wife-that was all; his ship-handling was going to give Digger a heart attack. The ship was slack from top to bottom; he had made himself unpopular by instituting a stiff program of drills; and so forth15. Pug thought that for an old friend Digger was showing off too much. He mentioned that he had come back from Berlin to talk to the President. Digger's face changed. 'I'm not surprised," he said. "Remember that phone call you had at the Army and Navy Club? I told the fellows, I bet that'
from the White House. You're flying high, fella." Having taken the wind out of Digger's sails,(s) Victor Henry was content to say nothing more. Digger waited, stuffed his pipe, lit it, then said, 'What's Roosevelt really like, Pug?" Henry said something banal16 about the President's charm and magnetism17. There was a knock on the door and the communications officer came in. "We raised the Marblehead, no strain, sir. It took all this time to get through to Berlin. What was that number again?" Pug told him. "Yes, sir, that checks. The number doesn't answer.The eyes of Digger Brown and Victor Henry met for a moment. Brown said, "At two in the morning? Better try again. Sounds like a foul-up." "We put it through three times, sir." "She might have gone out of town," Henry said. "Don't bother anymore. Thanks." The lieutenant left. Digger puffed18 thoughtfully at his pipe. 'Also, she cuts off the phone in the bedroom at night," Henry said. 'I forgot that. She may not hear the ringing in the library if the door's closed." 'Oh, I see," Digger said. He puffed again, and neither said anything for a while. "Well. Guess I'll make tracks." Victor Henry stood up. The executive officer accompanied him to the gangway, looking proudly around at the vast main deck, the towering guns, the flawlessly uniformed watch. 'Shipshape enough topside," he said. "That's the least I demand. Well, good luck on the firing line, Pug. Give my love to Rhoda." "If she's still there, I will." They both laughed. Hello, Dad!" Men Paul Munson's plane landed, Warren was waiting at the Pensacola airfield19 in a helmet and flying jacket. The son's handgrip, quick and firm, expressed all Warren's pride in what he was doing. His deeply tanned face radiated exaltation. "Say, where do you get this outdoors glow?" Pug said. He deliberately20 ignored the scar on hisson's forehead. 'I thought theyd make you sweat in ground school here. I expected you to look like something from under a rock." Warren laughed. "Well, I had a couple of chances to go deep-sea fishing out in the Gulf21. I tan fast." Driving his father to the b.O.Q, he never stopped talking. The flight school was in a buzz, he said. The day after Hitler invaded Poland, Washington had ordered the number of students tripled, and the year-long course cut to six months. The school was 'telescoping the syllabus22." In the old course a man qualified23 in big slow patrol planes, then in scout24 planes, and then, if he were good enough, went on into Squadron Five for fighter training. Now the pilots would be put on patrol, scout, or fighter tracks at once, and would stay in them. The lists would be posted in the morning. He was dying to make Squadron Five. Warren got all this out before he remembered to ask his father about the family. "Ye gods, Brinys in Warsaw? Why, the Germans are bombing the hell out of that town." "I know," Pug said. "I stopped worrying about Byron long ago. He'll crawl out of the rubble27 with somebody's gold watch." 'What's he doing there?" "Chased a girl there." "Really? Bully28 for him. What kind of girl?" "A Jewish Phi beta from Radcliffe." "You're kidding. Briny26?" "That's right." With an eloquent29 look, surprised and ruefully impressed, Warren changed the subject. really big. There The audience at Paul Munson's lecture was surpnsing must have been more than two hundred student aviators30 in khaki, youngsters with crew cuts and rugged31 clever faces, jammed into a small lecture hall. Ijke most naval32 men, Paul was a bumbling speaker, but the students sat on the edges of their chairs, because he was telling them how to avoid killing33 themselves. With slides and diagrams, with much technical jargon34 and an occasional heavy bloodthirsty joke, he described the worst hazards of carrier landings, the LIFE-or-death last moments of the approach, the procedure after cracking up, and such cheerful matters. The students laughed at the jokes about their own possible deaths. The strong male smell of a locker35 room rose from the packed bodies. Pug's eye fell on Warren, sitting in a row across the aisle36 from him, erect37 and attentive38, just one more close-cropped head in the crowd. He thought of Byron in Warsaw under the German bombs. It was going to be a tough ten years, he thought, for men with grown sons. Warren told him after the lecture that Congressman39 Isaac Lacouture, the man who had taken him deep-sea fishing, had invited them to dinner at the beach club. Lacouture was president ofthe club, and before running for Congress had been chairman of the Gulf Lumber40 and Paper Company, the biggest firm in Pensacola. 'He's anxious to meet you," Warren said as they walked back to the b.O.Q. ctmy?)y 'He's very interested in the war and in Germany. His opinions are kind of strong." "why has he taken such a shine to you?)t "Well, sir, this daughter of his, Janice, and I have sort of bit it off With an easy knowing grin, Warren parted from him in the lobby. At his first sight of Janice Lacouture, Victor Henry decided41 against talking to Warren about Pamela Tudsbury. What chance'had the slight English girl in her mousy suits against this magnetic blonde whose long legs dazzled at every Turn and flip42 of her skirt, this assured radiant tall American girl with the princess-like air, and the lovely face only slightly marred43 by crooked44 teeth? She was another, early Rhoda, swathed in cloudy pink, all composed of sweet scent45, sexual allure46, and girlish grace. The slang was changed, the skirt hem25 higher. This girl looked and acted brainier. She greeted Pug with just enough deference47 to acknowledge that he was Warren's father, and just enough sparkle to hint that he was no old fud for all that, but an attractive man himself. A girl who could do that in half a minute of talk, with a flash of the eyes and a smile, was a powerhouse, and so much ' thought Pug, for his inept49 matchmaking notions. A stiff wind was blowing from the water. Waves broke over the club terrace and splattered heavy spray on the glass wall of the dining room, making the candlelit Lacouture dinner seem the cosier50. Victor Henry never did get it clear who all the ten people at table were, though one was the beribboned commandant of the naval air station. The person who mattered, it was soon obvious, was Congressman Isaac L-acouture, a small man with thick white hair, a florid face, and a way of half sticking out his tongue when he smiled, with an air of sly profundity51. -How long are you going to be here, Commander Henry?" Lacouture called down the long table, as green-coated waiters passed two large baked fish on silver platters. 'You might like to come out and spend a day fishing, if the weatherman will Turn off this willawa. Your boy caught these two kingfish with me." Pug said that he had to return to New York in the morning to get his plane for Lisbon. Lacouture said, "Well, at that I suppose I'll be hurrying up to Washington myself for this special session. Say, how about that? What do you think of revising the Neutrality Act? How bad is the situation, actually? You should know." "Congressman, I think Poland's going to fall fast, if you call that bad." "Oh, hell, the Allies are counting on that! The European mind works in subtle ways. The President has sort of a European mind himself, you know. That mixture of Dutch and Englishis really the key to understanding him." Lacouture smiled, protruding53 his tongue. 'I've done a lot of business with the Dutch, they're very big in the hardwoods trade, and I tell you they are tricky54 boys. The gloomier things look in the next few weeks, why, the easier it'll be fOr Roosevelt to jam anything he wants through Congress. Right?" 'Have you talked to Hitler, Commander Henry? What is he really like?" said Mrs. Lacouture, a thin faded woman, with a placating55 smile and a sweet tone that suggested her social life consisted mainly of softening56 her husband's impact, or trying to. Lacouture said as though she had addressed him, "Oh, this Hitler is some kind of moonstruck demagogue. We all know that. But for years the Allies could have cleaned up him and his Nazis57 with ease, yet they just sat there. So it's their mess, not ours. Any day now we'll be hearing about the Germans raping58 nuns59 and boiling soldiers' corpses60 down for soap. British intelligence started both those yarns61 in 1916, you know. We've got the documentary evidence on that. How about it, Commander Henry? You've been living among the Germans. Are they really these savage62 Huns the New York papers make them out to be?" All the faces at the table turned to Pug. "The Germans aren't easy to understand," he said slowly. "My wife likes them more than I do. I don't admire their treatment of Jews." Congressman Lacouture held up two large hands. "Unpardonable! The New York press is quite understandable on that basis." Warren said firmly from the middle of the table, "I don't see how the President's revision would weaken our neutrality, sir. Cash and carry simply means anybody can come and buy stuff who has the ships to haul it off and the money to pay for it. Anybody, Hitler included." Lacouture smiled at him. "The administration would be proud of you, my boy. That's the line. Except we all know that the Allies have the ships and the money, and the Germans have neither. So this would put our factories into the war on the Allied63 side." 'But nobody ever stopped Hitler from building a merchant marine64," Warren promptly65 came back. 'Piling up tanks, subs, and dive bombers66 instead was his idea. all aggressive weapons. Isn't that his tough luck?" 'Warren's absolutely right," Janice said. Lacouture sat back in his chair, staring at his daughter, who smiled back impudently67. What both of you kids don't or won't understand," Lacouture said, is that this proposal is the camel's nose under the tent flap. Of course it seems fair. Of wurse it dens14. That's the beauty of the package. That's the Roosevelt mind at work. But let's not be children. He isn't calling a special session to help Nazi Germany! He thinks he's got a mission to save the world from Hitler. He's been talking way since 1937-He's cracked on the subject. Now I say Adolf Hitler's neither the foulfiend nor the Antichrist. That's all poppycock. He's just another European politician, a little more dirty and extreme than the rest. This is just another European war, and it'll end up a lot dirtier than the rest. The way for us to save the world is to stay out of it. The citadel68 of sanity69!" He rapped out the phrase and looked around the table, as though half expecting applause. "That's what we have to be. The Atlantic and Pacific are our walls. Broad, stout70 walls. The citadel of sanity! If we get in it we'll go bankrupt like the others and lose a couple of million of our finest young men. The whole world will sink into barbarism or Communism, which aren't so very different. The Russians will be the only winners." A small bald man with a hearing aid, seated across the table from Pug, said, 'Damn right." Lacouture inclined his head at him. ' "You and I realize that, Ralph, but it's amazing how few intelligent people do, as yet. The citadel of sanity. Ready to pick up the pieces when it's over and rebuild a decent world. That's the goal. I'm going back to Washington to fight like an alligator71 for it, believe you me. I'll be marked mud among a lot of my Democratic colleagues, but on this one I go my own way." When dinner ended, Janice and Warren left the club together, not waiting for coffee, and not troubling to explain. The girl smiled roguishly, waved a hand, and disappeared in a whirl of silky legs and pink chiffon. Warren belted long enough to make an early morning tennis date with his father. Victor Henry found himself isolated72 with Lacouture over rich cigars, coffee, and brandy in a corner of a lounge, in red leather armchairs. The congressman rambled73 about the charms of life in Pensacola-the duck-hunting, the game-fishing, the year-round good weather, and the swiftly advancing prosperity. The war would make it a real boomtown, he said, between the expansion of the Navy air base and the spurt74 in the lumber trade. "Creosoted telephone poles. You take that one item, Commander. Our company's had some unbelievable orders, just in the last week, from North Africa, japan, and France. The whole world's stringing wires all of a sudden. It's an indication." He tried to persuade Henry to stay over one day. A ship carrying mahogany was due in from Duich Guiana at noon. It would dump the logs in the harbor, and lumber mill workers would lash48 them into rafts and tow them up the bayou. 'It's quite a sight," he said. "Well, I've got this chance to fly back to New York with an old buddy75. I'd better go." "And from there to Berlin, via Lisbon?" "That's the plan." "Not much chance of our paths crossing then, in the near future," Lacouture said. "Your wife's a Grover, isn't she? Hamilton Grover up in Washington is a friend of mine; we have lunch atthe Metropolitan76 Club about once a month." Pug nodded. Hamilton Grover was the wealthiest of the cousins, rather beyond Rhoda's orbit. 'And you're a Henry. Not one of those Virginia Henrys that go back to old Patrick?" Henry laughed, shaking his head. "I doubt it. I'm from California." "Yes, as Warren told me. I mean originally." "Well, my great grandfather came west before the gold rush. We're not sure from where. My grandfather died young and we never got the story straight." 'You're probably Scotch-Irish." "Well, no, sort of mixed. My grandmother was French and English." 'That so? We've got some French in our family ourselves. Not a bad thing, hey? Gives the men that certain touch in I'amour." Lacouture uttered a hearty77 coarse laugh, the get-together78 noise of American men. "Quite a boy, your Warren." "Well, thanks. Your girl is beyond words." Ucouture sighed deeply. 'A girl's a problem. Warren tells me you have one, so you know. They'll fool you every time. We weren't as lucky as you, we have no boys. All Warren wants to do is fly airplanes the rest of his life for the Navy, right?" "well, those wings of gold look awfully79 big to him now, Congressman.pr Lacouture puffed at his cigar. 'I liked the way he talked up at dinner. Of course he's naive80 about foreign affairs. You learn a lot about the outside world in the lumber business." Lacouture swirled81 the large brandy snifter. 'No doubt you're glad to see Warren carrying on the Navy tradition. Wouldn't want to see him smft over into business, or anything like that." The congressman smiled, showing his tongue, and good but crooked teeth like his daughter's. 'Warren goes his own way, Congressman." "I'm not so sure. He thinks the world of his dad." The talk was getting awkward for Victor Henry. He had married a girl much better off than himself, and he had doubts about such a course in life. Nor did he especially like Janice Lacouture. Once the incandessence died down, she would be as tough as her father, who was already and openly weighing the notion of swallowing Warren. He said, "Well, until the war ends he's in, and that's that." "Of course. But that may not be for long, you know. If we can just stay out, it'll be over in a year or so. Maybe less. As soon as the Allies are positive they can't suck us in, theyll make the best deal they can get. They'd be nuts to try anything else. Well, I've enjoyed visiting with you, Commander. Whatthe hell? No sense trying to anticipate what the kids nowadays will do anyway. Is there? It's a different world than when you and I grew up." "That's for sure." Next morning, promptly at six-thirty, Warren appeared in his father's room. Not saying much, and rubbing his bloodshot and baggy82 eyes, he drank the orange juice and coffee brought by the steward. A strong wind still blew outside, and he and his father wore sweaters as they volleyed and began to play. Pug ran up three games. The mist soared erratically83 here and there. "Have a good time last night?" Pug called, as Warren knocked one flying over the fence, and the wind bore it up on the roof of a nearby cottage. Warren laughed, stripped his sweater off, and won the next five games, regaining84 his fast drive and his mid-court smash. The father was a plugging, solid player with an iron backhand, but he had to conserve85 his breath. "Goddamn it, Warren, if you've got a point won, win it," he gasped86. The son had passed up an easy kill to hit the ball where Pug could reach it. "The wind took it, Dad." "The hell it did." Now Pug threw off his sweater, answered several of his son's smashes, caught his second wind, and drew even. "Whew! I've got to quit. Ground school," Warren called, mopping his face with a towel. "You've really kept your game up, Dad." When in Berlin we tucked into a house with a court. You've played better." Warren came to the net. He was pouring sweat, his eyes were clear, and he looked eager and happy. "You had more sleep." "Quite a girl, that Janice." "She's got a head on her shoulders, Dad. She knows a hell of a lot of history." The father gave him a quizzical look. They both burst out laughing. 'All the same it's true. She does know history." 'What did you cover last night? The Hundred Years' War?" Warren guffawed87, swishing his racquet sharply. Pug said, "Her father figures to make a lumberman of you." "He's a kidder. I'll ship out in March, and probably that'll be that." Outside the ground school building, a wooden bulletin board was almost hidden by students clustering around in noisy excitement. Warren said, 'Assignments," and dove among them. In a moment his arm in a white sweater thrust above the heads. "Eeyowl' Warren exulted88 all the way back to the b.O.Q; he was in Squadron Five, and some of the hottest student pilots had not made it. He had done thing right, despite his one ground loop! His father listened, smiling and nodding, remembering the day at Annapolis when he had drawn89 his first battleship duty.
He said at last, 'You told your mother in Washington that it's just something else to qualify in." The son looked a bit abashed90, then laughed. "I hadn't flown then, Dad. There's nothing like flying. it's hard to talk about, but there's absolutely nothing like it. Nothing!' "Well, we both have to get cleaned up. Guess we'd better say goodbye here." They stood in the square dingy91 lobby of the b.O.Q. Warren glanced at his watch. "Gosh, already? I guess so. Say, write me about Briny from Berlin, will you? As soon as you get some real dope." 'Good enough." 'And don't worry about Madeline, Dad. She'll be fine in New York." 'I haven't decided to let her stay in New York." "Why sure, I know." Warren's grin was disingenuous92. He obviously thought his father had already lost that point. They shook hands. Then Warren did something that embarrassed them both. He threw an arm around his father's shoulder. 'I feel mixed up. I'm damn sorry to see you go, and I've never been happier in my life." "Take it easy," Pug said. "That girl's fine, but the hell with the lumber business. The Navy needs officers." Paul Munson, recovering from a hard night's drinking with some old friends on the Pensacola staff, said little until his plane finished its climb and levelled off, heading northeast over Georgia. 'By the way," he shouted above the engine roar into his face mike, "how'd your boy do in those squadron assignments?" Pug held up five fingers. Munson slapped his shoulder. "Outstanding. My boy washed out of there last year. It's a tough school. Don't you have another boy? What about him?" "Naval ROTC." "Oh? Guess they'll call him up any day. Think he'll fly?" Victor Henry looked out of the window at the green fields, and a wandering brown river far below. "He'll work that hard." Rom the German viewpoint, the invasion of Poland proceedingm(never) errily. The arrows and the pins on the military maps were closing in day by day,(was) from all directions, on Warsaw and Byron Henry. All over Poland, lines of helmeted dusty Germans, miles and miles of them, walked along or rode in trucks, cars, or on horses. Tanks and motorized guns clanked with them, or rattled93 nearby on railroad cars. It was all going slowly and tediously, and on the whole peacefully.
This outdoors mass adventure, though not precisely94 a picnic-ten thousand Germans were killed along the way-was far from wholly disagreeable. After each das advance the horde95 ate in the fields or on the roadside, and camped under the stars or tented in black rain, peeved96 at the discomforts97 but enjoying good simple things: hard exercise, fresh air, food, drink, grumbling98, jokes, comradeship, and sweet sleep. The Poles, of course, kept shooting at them. This had been planned for. The Germans returned the fire, laying down studied bombardments according to grids99 on maps. Howitzers flamed with satisfying roars and recoils100, everybody moved fast and worked up a sweat, officers shouted orders and encouragement, some fellows got killed or hurt but most did not, trees burned, village houses crumbled101, and after a while the shooting died off and the invasion trudged102 ahead. The front was a moving political edge; the Germans were forcing their national will on the Poles. As at a weather front, the squall line of violence was at the edge of change. The thin destructive squall churned across the flat green landscape, leaving a streaked103 mess behind. Even so, even in this combat zone there was mostly peace right there at the line. For every hour of firing there were many hours of camping, machine repairing, and trudging104 through green fields and scorched105 villages. But this ceased to be so when the wavering line of the front took the form of a circle shrinking in toward the city of Warsaw. As the target narrowed, the firing grew hotter, more frequent, and more concentrated. The invaders106 were a new generation of German soldiers who had never faced hostile bullets, though some of their senior officers had fought in the last war. At any one place where the invasion jumped off, there were only a few hundred scared young Germans crossing a border and expecting to get shot at. But they were backed by swarms107 of more armed youths, marching along German roads toward Poland on a neat schedule, and that was reassuring108 to know. Pulling down the Polish border barriers in the gray dawn fight, overpowering the few guards, setting foot on the foreign roads they had been watching through field glasses-all that was exhilarating. But once the Polish border garrisons109 opened fire there was much halting, panicking, running away, and stalled confusion. Luckily for the Germans, the Poles were even more panicked and confused, with the added disability of acting110 on the spur of the moment. World War II started in a messy amateurish111 style. But the Germans, however terrorized each individual may have been, were at least moving according to Plan. They had more guns at key points, more ammunition112, and a clearer idea of where and when to fire. They had, in fact, achieved surprise. If two men are standing52 and amiably113 chatting, and one suddenly punches the other's belly114 and kicks his groin, the chances are that even if the other recovers to defend himself, he will be badly beaten up, because the first man has achieved surprise. There is no book on the militaryart that does not urge the advantage of this. It may not seem quite decent, but that is no concern of the military art. Possibly the Poles should not have been surprised, in view of the Germans' open threats and preparations, but they were. Their political leaders probably hoped the German menaces were bluster115. Their generals probably thought their own armies were ready. A lot of wrong guessing goes with the start of a war. The German plan for conquering Poland, Case White, provided the scenario116 for what ensued. They had many such plans, like Case Green, the invasion of Czechoslovakia (which they never had to use), and Case Yellow, the attack on France. Color-coded master plans for smashing other countries, far in advance of any quarrel with them, were a modern military innovation of the Germans. all advanced nations came to imitate this doctrine117. The United States, for instance, by 1939 had a Plan Orange for fighting japan, and even a Plan Red for fighting England; and it finally entered the war under Plan Rainbow Five. Historians still argue, and will long argue, the genesis of the German General Staff, which originated this new line of conduct in human affairs. Some say the German genius produced the General Staff as a reflex of the humiliations inflicted119 by Napoleon; others assert that a Hat country with many hostile borders, in an industrial age, had to develop such schemes to survive. In any case, it was certainly the Germans who first mastered industrial warfare120 and taught it to the nations: total war -the advance marshalling of railroads, factories, modern communications, and the entire population of a land into one centrally controlled system for destroying its neighbors, should the need or impulse arise. This German system was well tested in the First World War, in which, geographically121, they quit while they were well ahead. When they asked for an armistice122, after four years of battling bigger forces on many fronts, they stood everywhere deep in foreign territory; only their big 1918 attack had failed, and their resources were running low. Thereafter, despite their surrender and through all political changes, they continued to work up their 'Cases." Twenty-one years later, Case White paid off, quickly frightening a nation of forty millions, with an army of a million and a half or more, into obeying the Germans. That, according to Napoleon, is the whole of war-to frighten the foe123 into doing your will. The Germans invading Poland made mistakes, they sometimes broke and ran under fire, they disobeyed orders, they refused to advance against tough positions, they misreported gains, and exaggerated reports of the fire they were fating, to excuse retreat. They were ordinary young men. But there were good leaders and stout ows among them, and the Germans are an obedient, strong-willed people. The Poles did all these wrong things too, and the weight of fire, surprise, numbers, and Case White was all with the Germans. So the invasion went well. Soon the new companies of tanks-the panzers that became so famous-began to risk long trips into enemy ground far ahead of the front.
This was a classic military blunder. The foe closes in behind a company that has ventured too far ahead of its line, pinches it off, and wipes it out. This was precisely what the Russians did several years later to the famous panzers, whereupon their fame dimmed. But now they were a surprise. In their debut124 against a scared, ill-organized, smaller and weaker foe, on level country in perfect weather, they shone. They proceeded slowly, at only five or ten miles an hour, more like moving lines of large iron bugs125 than the dashing red arrows of the maps in popular books and magazines. But they looked to the Polish soldiers and civilians126, and indeed they were lethal127 enough, these green machines crawling down the roads, out of the forests, and over the ripe grain, firing big shells. From the pellucid128 September sky, slow clumsy little planes called Stukas kept diving and shooting at soldiers, or children, or animals, or women, whoever happened to be on the roads, to add to the bloodshed and horrid129 noise. The tanks and Stukas killed many Poles and scared immense masses of them into quitting what looked like a useless fight. This was the blitzkrieg, the lightning war. It was halted at Warsaw. The fact was not much stressed at the time. The Germans had to inflict118 on the city an old-fashioned, horse-drawn, Napoleonic bombardment, while the panzer machines limped into the repair shops, low on gasoline and breaking down in large numbers. They had done their work. The Polish armies had been sliced and frightened into fragments. Allied and American newspapers were writing terrified accounts of blitzkrieg, "the new form of warfare." But the panzers arrived at Warsaw on the ninth of September. On the tenth the German supreme130 commander was writing in his batdc diary that the war was over. On the seventeenth Warsaw still stood. all available Luftwaffe airplanes were making unopposed runs over the city, dumping bombs and hurrying back to Germany for more bombs. Horses were dragging more and more howitzers from Prussia and Pomerania to ring the city and fire shells inside. And still Radio Warsaw played the Polonaise. Leslie Slote, heading the American embassy's skeleton staff in Warsaw, was an able and exceptionally clever man, but at the moment he was in the wrong job, because he was a coward. He did not look or act like one. At Yale he had been on the track team, and this token of manliness-which he had carefully selected, knowing the Rhodes requirements-together with his work on the college newspaper, his Phi Beta Kappa key, and his friendships with certain useful professors, had won him the scholarship hands down. He had been one of the few popular Americans at Oxford131; in the Foreign Service they talked of him as an outstanding officer in his age group. Well aware of his problem, he would never have gone knowingly into a situation requiring physical courage. He had thought much about this hole in his makeup133, and he had theories about it, centered on an oversolicitous mother and some childhood accidents. The theories didn't change anything, but they served to contain the weakness in his own mind as a misfortune like a polio limp, rather than as a blight134 which could corrode135 his self-respect. Slote had a high regard for himself, his powers, and his future. Bad luck had now put him in aspot where all his broad political knowledge, all his gifts of analysis, humor, and foreign tongues were of little avail compared to the simple capacity to be brave. That, he lacked. He hid the lack with an inner struggle that was showing at the surface only in absentmindedness, continuous headaches, irritability136, and a tendency to laugh for no reason. when the ambassador had asked him to stay on, he had burst out laughing. Since the first word that the Germans were coming, and especially since the first air bombs had fallen on Warsaw, he had been in a black panic, hungering for word that he and the other Americans could leave. He had bandages on several fingers where he had bitten his nails raw. And then the ambassador had asked him to stay on in this horror! The shrill137 laugh had welled up out of him. With a quizzical look the ambassador had let it pass. Most of the people in Warsaw had reacted well to the air attacks, swinging over to almost lighthearted determination and stoicism, once the first bombs failed to kill them. But for Slote the hell went on and on. Every sounding of an air raid alarm all but deprived him of the ability to think. Down into the thickwalled embassy cellar he would dart138 with everybody else, ahead of most, and invariably he would stay down until the all clear sounded. In a way, being in charge was a help. It looked proper for him to move out of his apartment into the embassy, to stay there, and to set an example of strict compliance139 with air raid rules. Nobody guessed his trouble. Dawn of September the seventeenth found him at the big desk, a smoking pipe clenched140 in his teeth, carefully redrafting his latest dispatch to the State department on the condition of the embassy and of the hundred or so Americans trapped in Warsaw. He was trying to retain all the urgency and gravity of the message, while editing out traces of his private hysteria. It was a hairline to walk, the more so as no replies were coming in to any of these dispatches, and he could not tell whether the American government had any idea of the plight141 of its nationals in the Polish capital. "Come in," he called to a knock at the door. "It's broad daylight outside," Byron Henry said hoarsely142 as he walked in. 'Shall I open the curtains?" "Anything going on out there?" Slote rubbed his eyes. 'Nothing unusual." "Okay, let's have some daylight," Slote laughed. They both pulled back the heavy black curtains, admitting pallid143 sunshine in broken patterns through the diagonally crossed timbers in the windows. "What about the water, Byron?" "I brought it." With the curtains open, one could hear the dull far-off thumps144 of Gemian artillery145. Slote would have preferred to leave the curtains closed for a while longer, shutting out these daytime noises of gray, broken, burning Warsaw. The quiet of the black-curtained room lit by a desklamp might be illusory, a false conjuring146 up of peaceful student days, but he found it comforting. He peered between the timbers. "Such smoke! Are there that many fires?" "God, yes. The sky was terrific until the dawn came up. Didn't you see it? all red and smoky wherever you looked. Dante's Inferno147. And these big orange star shells popping all over, way high up, and slowly floating down. Quite a sight! Over on Walewskaya they're still trying to put out two huge fires with shovels148 and sand. It's the water problem that's going to lick them, more than anything." "They should have accepted the German offer yesterday," Slote said. "They'd have had at least half a city left. There's no future in this. How on earth did you fetch the water? Did you manage to find some gasoline, after all?" Byron shook his head, yawned, and dropped on the long brown leather couch. His sweater and slacks were covered with brick dust and soot149, his long shaggy hair was in a tangle150, and his eyes glowed dully in purple rings. 'Not a chance. From now on we can forget about the truck. I saw fire engines stalled in the middle of the street. Gasoline's finished in this town. I just scouted151 around OBI found a cart and a horse. It took me most of the night." He grinned at Slote, his lower lip pulled in with exhaustion152. 'The Government of the United States owes me one hundred seventy-five dollars. The hardest part was getting the boiler153 off the truck and onto the cart. But this peasant who sold me the cart helped me. It was part of the deal. A little sawed-off fellow with a beard, but strong. Jesus!" 'You'll get paid, of course. Talk to Ben." "Can I stretch out here for a minute?" "Don't you want breakfast?" 'I'm not sure I have the energy to chew. I just need a half hour or so. It's quiet in here. That cellar is a madhouse." Byron put up his feet and collapsed154 on the leather cushions, a meager155 long dirty figure. 'There's no water at the opera house corner anymore," he said, closing his eyes. "I had to go clear over to the pumping station. it's a slow horse and it sure doesn't like pulling an iron boiler full of sloshing water." 'Thank you, Byron. You're being a great help." The and Gunga Din9. 'You may talk of gin and beer,"' Byron mumbled156 into his elbow, "when you're quartered safe out 'ere'-where's Natalie? At the hospital?" 'I daresay." Byron fell asleep. The telephone rang harshly, but he didn't stir. The mayor's office was calling; Mayor Starzynski was on his way to the embassy to discuss with the American charge a sudden development of the highest urgency. Excited, Slote phoned the marine sentry157 at the gate to admit the mayor. This must be news: safe-conduct for foreigners out of Warsaw, or perhaps imminent158 surrender! Nothing butsurrender made sense now. He thought of waking Byron and asking him to leave the office, but decided to wait. The mayor might not arrive for a while. This grimy kid needed sleep. Water had become a problem all through Warsaw; and in the embassy, with seventy people under one roof and more coming, it was-or might have been-an alarming, a disastrous159 problem. But from the day the water main had broken, Byron Henry had started supplying water, though nobody had asked him to. While Slote had been on the telephone to the mayor's office-twenty times on that first wretched day-demanding immediate water delivery for the Americans in his charge and swift repair of the main, Byron had gone out in the embassy's Ford132 pickup160 truck, and had retrieved161 from the cellar of bombed-out house a rusty162 broken little boiler. Somewherehehadobtainedsolderingto(a) ols to patch it up, and now he was using it as a makeshift tank to bring water to the embassy. What would have happened otherwise there was no telling. The main was still broken, mains were broken everywhere now, and the city government was overburdened supplying just the hospitals and the fire fighters from tank trucks. Day after day, as a matter of course, Byron fetched water, through bombarchnent and air attack, joking about his own terror, and often arriving much filthier163 than he was now, having dived into some rubble pile at the "whiffling' sound of a howitzer shell sailing through the air. Slote had never heard this 'whiffling," as many people described it, and never wanted to. Despite these scares, Byron Henry actually seemed to be enjoying himself in the siege. This state of mind Slote regarded as stupider than his own, and not particularly admirable. His fear at least was rational. Natalie had told him of Byron's remark that he was having fun. The boy was a neurotic164, Slote thought; the excessively bland165 good nature was a mask. But his water-carrying was an undeniable blessing166. Slote was also grateful to Henry, in an obscurer way, for keeping Natalie Jastrow occupied when she wasn't at the hospital. Natalie was the one person in Warsaw capable of penetrating167 to his secret fear. So far he was sure she had not, simply through not being around him enough. The girl's presence in Warsaw, a haunting burden, gave him pangs168 of hatred169 for her. As it was, she plagued him with guilt170 and aindety by existing, by not vanishing from the earth. He had a wild physical craving171 for this dark-haired strong-willed jewess, but he didn't want to marry her. A snooth hand at managing romantic liaisons172, he had never before come up against such an iron girl. She had broken off their sexual relations in Paris and had never resumed them; she had told him half a dozen times to let her alone and forget her-the one thing he could not do. Why in the devil's name, then, had she thrust herself on him in this evil hour, in this holocaust173, in city shuddering174 under bombs and shells, where he was saddled with the heaviest respo(a) nsibility of his life and yet felt befogged and castrated by fear? He dreaded175 exposure of his fear to Natalie more than anything, except getting hurt. He thought now that if they escaped with their lives, he would summon his willpower to cut this dragging business off.
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1
lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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2
ironies
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| n.反语( irony的名词复数 )；冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事；嘲弄 | |
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knowledgeable
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| adj.知识渊博的；有见识的 | |
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pennant
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| n.三角旗；锦标旗 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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atmospheric
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| adj.大气的，空气的；大气层的；大气所引起的 | |
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7
overestimate
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| v.估计过高，过高评价 | |
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8
Nazi
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| n.纳粹分子，adj.纳粹党的，纳粹的 | |
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din
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| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
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steward
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| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
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premature
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| adj.比预期时间早的；不成熟的，仓促的 | |
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alcoholic
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| adj.（含）酒精的，由酒精引起的；n.酗酒者 | |
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13
bemoaned
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| v.为（某人或某事）抱怨( bemoan的过去式和过去分词 )；悲悼；为…恸哭；哀叹 | |
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14
dens
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| n.牙齿，齿状部分；兽窝( den的名词复数 )；窝点；休息室；书斋 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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banal
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| adj.陈腐的，平庸的 | |
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17
magnetism
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| n.磁性，吸引力，磁学 | |
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18
puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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19
airfield
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| n.飞机场 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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21
gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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syllabus
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| n.教学大纲，课程大纲 | |
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23
qualified
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| adj.合格的，有资格的，胜任的，有限制的 | |
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24
scout
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| n.童子军，侦察员；v.侦察，搜索 | |
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25
hem
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| n.贴边，镶边；vt.缝贴边；(in)包围，限制 | |
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26
briny
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| adj.盐水的；很咸的；n.海洋 | |
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27
rubble
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| n.（一堆）碎石，瓦砾 | |
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28
bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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29
eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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30
aviators
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| 飞机驾驶员，飞行员( aviator的名词复数 ) | |
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31
rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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32
naval
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| adj.海军的，军舰的，船的 | |
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33
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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34
jargon
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| n.术语，行话 | |
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35
locker
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| n.更衣箱，储物柜，冷藏室，上锁的人 | |
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36
aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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39
Congressman
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| n.（美）国会议员 | |
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40
lumber
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| n.木材，木料；v.以破旧东西堆满；伐木；笨重移动 | |
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41
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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42
flip
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| vt.快速翻动；轻抛；轻拍；n.轻抛；adj.轻浮的 | |
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43
marred
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| adj. 被损毁, 污损的 | |
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44
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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45
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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46
allure
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| n.诱惑力，魅力；vt.诱惑，引诱，吸引 | |
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47
deference
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| n.尊重，顺从；敬意 | |
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48
lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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49
inept
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| adj.不恰当的，荒谬的，拙劣的 | |
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50
cosier
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| adj.温暖舒适的( cosy的比较级 )；亲切友好的 | |
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51
profundity
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| n.渊博；深奥，深刻 | |
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52
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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53
protruding
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的现在分词 )；凸 | |
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54
tricky
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| adj.狡猾的，奸诈的；(工作等)棘手的，微妙的 | |
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55
placating
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| v.安抚，抚慰，使平静( placate的现在分词 ) | |
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56
softening
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| 变软，软化 | |
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57
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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58
raping
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| v.以暴力夺取，强夺( rape的现在分词 )；强奸 | |
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59
nuns
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| n.（通常指基督教的）修女， （佛教的）尼姑( nun的名词复数 ) | |
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60
corpses
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| n.死尸，尸体( corpse的名词复数 ) | |
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61
yarns
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| n.纱( yarn的名词复数 )；纱线；奇闻漫谈；旅行轶事 | |
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62
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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63
allied
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| adj.协约国的；同盟国的 | |
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64
marine
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| adj.海的；海生的；航海的；海事的；n.水兵 | |
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65
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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66
bombers
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| n.轰炸机( bomber的名词复数 )；投弹手；安非他明胶囊；大麻叶香烟 | |
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67
impudently
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68
citadel
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| n.城堡；堡垒；避难所 | |
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69
sanity
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| n.心智健全，神智正常，判断正确 | |
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71
alligator
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| n.短吻鳄(一种鳄鱼) | |
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72
isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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73
rambled
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| （无目的地）漫游( ramble的过去式和过去分词 )； （喻）漫谈； 扯淡； 长篇大论 | |
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74
spurt
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| v.喷出；突然进发；突然兴隆 | |
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75
buddy
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| n.（美口）密友，伙伴 | |
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76
metropolitan
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| adj.大城市的，大都会的 | |
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77
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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78
get-together
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| n.(使)聚集；(使)集合 | |
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79
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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80
naive
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| adj.幼稚的，轻信的；天真的 | |
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81
swirled
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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82
baggy
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| adj.膨胀如袋的，宽松下垂的 | |
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83
erratically
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| adv.不规律地，不定地 | |
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84
regaining
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| 复得( regain的现在分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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85
conserve
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| vt.保存，保护，节约，节省，守恒，不灭 | |
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86
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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87
guffawed
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| v.大笑，狂笑( guffaw的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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88
exulted
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| 狂喜，欢跃( exult的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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89
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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90
abashed
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| adj.窘迫的，尴尬的v.使羞愧，使局促，使窘迫( abash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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91
dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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92
disingenuous
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| adj.不诚恳的，虚伪的 | |
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93
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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94
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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95
horde
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| n.群众，一大群 | |
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96
peeved
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| adj.恼怒的，不高兴的v.（使）气恼，（使）焦躁，（使）愤怒( peeve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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97
discomforts
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| n.不舒适( discomfort的名词复数 )；不愉快，苦恼 | |
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98
grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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99
grids
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| n.格子( grid的名词复数 )；地图上的坐标方格；（输电线路、天然气管道等的）系统网络；（汽车比赛）赛车起跑线 | |
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100
recoils
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| n.（尤指枪炮的）反冲，后坐力( recoil的名词复数 )v.畏缩( recoil的第三人称单数 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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101
crumbled
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| （把…）弄碎， （使）碎成细屑( crumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 衰落； 坍塌； 损坏 | |
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102
trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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103
streaked
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| adj.有条斑纹的，不安的v.快速移动( streak的过去式和过去分词 )；使布满条纹 | |
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104
trudging
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的现在分词形式） | |
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105
scorched
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| 烧焦，烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（植物）枯萎，把…晒枯； 高速行驶； 枯焦 | |
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106
invaders
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| 入侵者，侵略者，侵入物( invader的名词复数 ) | |
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107
swarms
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| 蜂群，一大群( swarm的名词复数 ) | |
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108
reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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109
garrisons
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| 守备部队，卫戍部队( garrison的名词复数 ) | |
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110
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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111
amateurish
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| n.业余爱好的，不熟练的 | |
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112
ammunition
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| n.军火，弹药 | |
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113
amiably
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| adv.和蔼可亲地，亲切地 | |
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114
belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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115
bluster
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| v.猛刮；怒冲冲的说；n.吓唬，怒号；狂风声 | |
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116
scenario
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| n.剧本，脚本；概要 | |
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117
doctrine
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| n.教义；主义；学说 | |
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118
inflict
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| vt.(on)把…强加给，使遭受，使承担 | |
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119
inflicted
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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120
warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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121
geographically
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| adv.地理学上，在地理上，地理方面 | |
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122
armistice
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| n.休战，停战协定 | |
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123
foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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124
debut
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| n.首次演出，初次露面 | |
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125
bugs
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| adj.疯狂的，发疯的n.窃听器( bug的名词复数 )；病菌；虫子；[计算机]（制作软件程序所产生的意料不到的）错误 | |
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126
civilians
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| 平民，百姓( civilian的名词复数 )； 老百姓 | |
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127
lethal
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| adj.致死的；毁灭性的 | |
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128
pellucid
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| adj.透明的，简单的 | |
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129
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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130
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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131
Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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132
Ford
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| n.浅滩，水浅可涉处；v.涉水，涉过 | |
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133
makeup
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| n.组织；性格；化装品 | |
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134
blight
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| n.枯萎病；造成破坏的因素；vt.破坏，摧残 | |
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135
corrode
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| v.使腐蚀，侵蚀，破害；v.腐蚀，被侵蚀 | |
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136
irritability
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| n.易怒 | |
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137
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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138
dart
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| v.猛冲，投掷；n.飞镖，猛冲 | |
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139
compliance
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| n.顺从；服从；附和；屈从 | |
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140
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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141
plight
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| n.困境，境况，誓约，艰难；vt.宣誓，保证，约定 | |
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142
hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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143
pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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144
thumps
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| n.猪肺病；砰的重击声( thump的名词复数 )v.重击， （指心脏）急速跳动( thump的第三人称单数 ) | |
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145
artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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146
conjuring
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| n.魔术 | |
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147
inferno
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| n.火海；地狱般的场所 | |
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148
shovels
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| n.铲子( shovel的名词复数 )；锹；推土机、挖土机等的)铲；铲形部份v.铲子( shovel的第三人称单数 )；锹；推土机、挖土机等的)铲；铲形部份 | |
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149
soot
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| n.煤烟，烟尘；vt.熏以煤烟 | |
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150
tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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151
scouted
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| 寻找，侦察( scout的过去式和过去分词 )； 物色（优秀运动员、演员、音乐家等） | |
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152
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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153
boiler
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| n.锅炉；煮器(壶，锅等) | |
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154
collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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155
meager
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| adj.缺乏的，不足的，瘦的 | |
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156
mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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157
sentry
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| n.哨兵，警卫 | |
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158
imminent
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| adj.即将发生的，临近的，逼近的 | |
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159
disastrous
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| adj.灾难性的，造成灾害的；极坏的，很糟的 | |
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160
pickup
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| n.拾起，获得 | |
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161
retrieved
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| v.取回( retrieve的过去式和过去分词 )；恢复；寻回；检索（储存的信息） | |
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162
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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163
filthier
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| filthy（肮脏的，污秽的）的比较级形式 | |
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164
neurotic
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| adj.神经病的，神经过敏的；n.神经过敏者，神经病患者 | |
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165
bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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166
blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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167
penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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168
pangs
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| 突然的剧痛( pang的名词复数 )； 悲痛 | |
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169
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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170
guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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171
craving
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| n.渴望,热望 | |
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172
liaisons
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| n.联络( liaison的名词复数 )；联络人；（尤指一方或双方已婚的）私通；组织单位间的交流与合作 | |
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173
holocaust
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| n.大破坏；大屠杀 | |
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174
shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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175
dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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