'This is how we knocked out the Mark Threes." Dispersed47 in the thickets48, all but invisible under branches and nets, five armored monsters thrust heavy square turrets50 with giant guns high in the air. Tudsbury's mouth fell open, as he stared up at them. He ner -A vously brushed his moustaches with a knuckle51. "My God! What are these things?" "Our newest Russian tank," said Amphiteatrov. "C'eneral Ycvlenko thought it might interest President Roosevelt." "Fantastic!" said Talky. "Why, I'd heard you had these monsters, butWhat do they weigh? A hundred tons? Look at that gun!" The Russians smiled at each other. Amphiteatrov said, "It's a good tank." Tudsbury asked if they might climb inside one and to Pug's surprise the colonel agreed. Young tankists helped the lame52 fat Englishman to the batch53, as Pug scrambled54 up. Inside the command turret49, despite the clutter56 of machinery57 and instruments and the bulky gun breech, there a lot of elbowroom. Themachinesmelledstartlinglylikeanewcar;Pugguessedthiscame(was) from the heavy leather seats for the gunner and the commander. He knew very little about tanks, but the workmanship of the raw metal interior seemed good, despite some crude instrument brackets and wiring. The dials, valves, and controls had an old-fashioned German look. "Great God, Henry, it's a land battleship," Tudsbury said. "When I think of the tiny tin cans we rode in! Why, the best German tanks today are eggshells to this. Bloody58 eggshells! What a surprise!" When they climbed out, soldiers were clustering around the tank, perhaps a hundred or more, with others coming through the trees. On the flat hull59 stood'Pamela, embarrassed and amused under the male stares. Bundled in mud-caked lambskin, Pamela was not a glamorous60 object, but her presence seemed to thrill and hypnotize the tankists. A pale moonfaced officer with glasses and long yellow teeth stood beside her. Major Kaplan introduced him as the political officer. "The commissar would like to present all of you to the troops," said Amphiteatrov to Victor Henry, "as he feels this visit is a serious occasion that can be used to bolster61 their fighting spirit." "By all means," Victor Henry said. He could understand only fragments of the strident, quick-tumbling harangue62 of the moonfaced commissar, but the earnest tones, the waving fist, the Communist slogans, the innocent, attentive63 faces of the handsome young tankists, made a clear enough picture. The commissar's speech was half a revivalist sermon and half a football coach's pep talk. Suddenly the soldiers applauded, and Amphiteatrov began to translate, in bursts o'f three or four sentences at a time,during which the moon face beamed at him: "In the name of the Red Army, I now welcome the American naval64 captain, Genry, the British war correspondent, Tudsbury, and especially the brave English newspaperwoman, Pamela, to our front. It is always good for a fighting man's morale65 to see a pretty face." (Laughter among the men.) "But we have no evil thoughts, Miss Tudsbury, we think only of our own little sweethearts back home, naturally. Besides, your father has wisely come along to protect you from the romantic and virile66 young Russian tankists." (Laughter and handclaps.) "You have showed us that the British and American peoples have not forgotten us in our struggle against. the Fascist67 hyenas68. "Comrade Stalin has said that the side which has more petroleum69 engines will win this war. Why is the petroleum engine so important? Because petroleum is the biggest source of energy today, and energy wins wars. We tankists know that! Hitler and the Germans thought they would make a lot of petroleum engines in a hurry, put them in tanks and aircraft, and steal a march on the world. Hitler even hoped that certain ruling circles in America and England would help him once he decided70 to attack the peaceful Soviet71 people. Well, he miscalculated. These two great nations have formed an unshakable front with the Soviet peoples. That is what the presence of our visitors shows us. We three countries possess many more petroleum engines than the Germans, and since we can manufacture still more engines faster than they can, because we have much larger industries, we will win this war. "We will win it faster if our friends wig72 hasten to send us plenum war supplies, because the Nazi bandits will not quit until we have killed a great many of them. Above all, we will win much faster if our British allies will open a second front at once and kill some German soldiers too. Certain people think it is impossible to beat Germans. So let me ask this battalion: have you fought Germans?" Twilight73 had fallen during the harangue, and Pug could barely see the nearest soldiers' faces. A roar came from the darkness: 'DAI' "Have you beaten them?" '(DAd) "Are you afraid of Germans?" 'NYETI'-and barking male laughter. "Do you think the British should be afraid to open a second front against them?" "NYETI'-and more laughter, and another bellow74, like a college cheer, in Russian, "Second front now! Second front now!' "Thank you, my comrades. And now to dinner, and then back to our tanks, in which we have won many victories and will win more, for our socialist75 motherland, our sweethearts, our mothers, our Wives, and our children, and for ComradeStalin!" A tremendous college cheer in the gloom: "WE SERVE THE SOVIET union!" "The meeting is over," hoarsely76 cried the commissar, as the moon rose over the trees. Pug came awake from restless sleep on a straw pallet, on the dirt floor of a log cabin. Beside him in blackness Talky Tudsbury liquidly snored. Groping for a cigarette and lighting it, he saw Pamela as the match flared77 upright on the only bed, her back to the plastered log wall, her eyes glittaring. "Pam?" "Hello there. I still feel as though we're bumping and sliding in mud. "Do you suppose if I stepped outside, a sentry79 would shoot me?" 'Let's try. I'll step out first. If I get shot, you go back to bed." "Oh, that's a fine plan. Thank you." Pug pulled on the cigarette, and in the red glow Pamela came over and clasped hands. Moving along the rough wall, Pug found the door and opened a blue rectangle in the dark. "I'll be damned. Moon. Stars." A high moon, pa y veiled b rtl y swift-rolling clouds, dusted the thatched huts and the rutted empty road blue-gray. Across the road in the woods, soldiers, were sadly singing to an accordion81. Victor Henry and Pamela Tudsbury sat down on a rough bench, hands clasped, huddling82 close in the frigid83 wind which blew straight up the road. Underfoot the mud was ridged hard. "Dear God," Pamela said, it's a long long way to Tipperary, isn't it?" 'Washington, D.C."s even further.anks for bringing me out, Victor. I was sitting there not daring to move. I love the smell of this countryside, but lord, that wind cuts you!" Yellow flashes ran along the sky and loud thumps followed fast. Pamela winced84 against him, with a little gasp85. "Oh, oh! Look at that. Talky was a pig to drag me out here, wasn't he? Of course it suits him. He dictated86 two hours by candlelight tonight, and he Couldn't have written a line himself. It's quite a story, I'll say that. Are those tanks as startling as he claims? He says in his last sentence that if the Soviet union can massproduce them, the war's as good as over." "Well, that's journalism87. Size isn't everything. Any tank, no matter how big, can be an incinerator for crews if it's built wrong. How maneuverable is it? How vulnerable is it? The germans'll find the weak spots. They'll rush out a new gun that can penetrate these things. They're good at that. Still, it's quite a tank.""Count on you!" Pamela laughed. "I think that was why I couldn't sleep. I had this vision of the war coming to a sudden end. It was such a weird88, dazzling idea! The Germans beaten, Hitler dead or locked up, the lights going on again in London, the big cleanup, and then life continuing the way it used to be! All because of these monster tanks rolling by the thousands to Berlin-my God, those guns do sound dose." 'It's a pipe dream," Victor Henry said. "The Germans are winning'. We're pretty close to Moscow here, Pam." After a silence she said, looking up at the moon and stars and then at Pug's shadowy face, "When you just said those tanks couldn't end the war, do you know what? I felt relieved. Relieved! What kind of mad reaction was that?" "Well, the war's something different, while it lasts." Victor Henry gestured at the angry yellow flare78-ups on the black western clouds. "The expensive fireworks-the travel to strange places-' "The interesting company," Pamela said. "Yes, Pam. The interesting company." The accordion was playing alone now, a plaintive89 tune90 like a lullaby, half drowned by the cracking and sighing of trees in the wind. 'What is that sensation of sudden remembering supposed to mean?" she said. "The sort of thing you felt yesterday at the Tolstoy place?" Pug said, 'Isn't it a kind of short circuit in the brain? Some irrelevant91 stimulus92 triggers off the sense of recognition when it shouldn't. So I once read." "()n the Bremen, the second day out," said Pamela, "I was walking the deck in the morning. And so were you, going the other way. We passed each other twice. It was getting silly. I decided to ask you, next time we passed, to walk with me. And I suddenly knew you'd ask me. I knew the exact words you'd use. You used them. I made a remark about your wife as though I were acting93 a play, and your answer came like the next line in the play, all old and familiar. I've never forgotten that." A tall soldier, muffled94 in his greatcoat, trudged95 by with smoking breath, the unsheathed bayonet of his rifle glinting in the moonlight. He stopped to glance at them, and passed on. "Where are we heading tomorrow, Victor?" "I'm going into the front line. You and Talky will stay in a town several miles back. Up front one sometimes has to make a dash for it, the colonel says, and of course Talky can't do that." "Why must you go?" "Well, Amphiteatrov offered. It'll be informative96.""This is the flight to Berlin again." "No. I'll be on the ground all the way, on friendly territory. Quite a difference." "How long will you be gon from us?" "Just a few hours." A green radiance blinded them, a sudden blaze filling the heavens. Pamela uttered a cry. As their pupils adjusted to the shock, they saw four smoky green lights floating very slowly down below the thickening clouds, and heard the thrum of engines. The sentry had darted97 off the road. The village showed no sign of life: a tiny sleeping Russian hamlet of thatched huts in the woods an a mud road, like a hundred others, with a stage-setting appearance in the artificial glare. All the tanks under repair had been camouflaged98. 'You look ghastly," Pam said. -You should see yourself. The)ere searching for this tank battalion." The lights sank earthward. One turned orange and went out. The airplane sounds faded away. Pug glanced at his watch. "I used to think the Russians were nutty on camouflage, but it has its points." He stiffly rose and opened the cabin door. 'We'd better try to sleep." Pamela put a hand out, palm up to the black sky. The clouds were blotting99 out the moon and stars. "I thought I felt something." She held her hand toward Pug. In the light of the last falling flare he could see, melting on her 'aim, a fat snowflake. The car crossed a white bare plain in a steady snowfall in leaden gray light by which the driver guided the jolting100, Tlight. Pug could s no roa sliding, shaking machine. What about mines? Trusting that Pug could Amphiore appetite than he to get blown up, Pug said nothing. teatrov had no m In about an hour an onion-top belft-y of yellow brick loomed101 ahead They entered a town where soldiers milled and through the veil of snow. wood houses. army trucks lurched on mud streets between unpainted idlers peered the livid, bloody, bandaged faces of so From some trucks sadly. Villagers, mostly snow-flecked old women and boys, stood in front of the houses, dourly102 watching the traffic go by. At the steps of the yellow brick church, Pug parted company with the others. A political officer in a belted white leather coat, with the slanted103 eyes of a Tartar and a little beard like Lenin's, came to take him off in a small British jeep. Talky Tudsbury happily said in Russian, pointing to the trademark104, "Ah, so British aid has reached the front at last!"The political officer replied in ragged105 English that it required men and gunfire, not automobiles106, to stop Germans, and that the British vehicles were not strong enough for heavy duty. Pamela gave Victor Henry a serious wide-eyed stare. Despite the wear and soil of travel she looked charming, and the lambskin bat was tilted107 jauntily108 on her head. 'Watch yourself," was all she said. The jeep went west, out of the tumultuous town and into a snowladen quiet forest. They appeared to be heading straight for the front, yet the only gunfire thumps came from the left, to the south. Pug thought the snow might be muffling109 the sound up ahead. He saw many newly splintered trees, and bomb craters110 lined with fresh snow. The Germans had been shelling the day before, the commissar said, trying in vain to draw the fire of Russian batteries hidden in the woods. The jeep bounced past some of these batteries: big horse-drawn howitzers, tended by wearylooking bewhiskered soldiers amid evergreens111 and piles of shells at the ready. They came to a line of crude trenches112 through the smashed fallen trees, with high earthworks sugared by snow. These were dummy114 dugouts, the commissar said, deliberately115 made highly visible. They had taken much of the shellfire yesterday. The real trenches, a couple of hundred yards further on, had escaped. Dug along a riverbank, their log tops level with the ground and snowed over, the actual trenches were totally invisible. The commissar parked the jeep among trees, and he and Victor Henry crawled the rest of the way through the brush. "The less movement the Fritzes can observe, the better," said the Russian. Here, down in a deep muddy hole-a machine gun post manned by three soldiers-Victor Henry peered through a gun slit116 piled with sandbags and saw Germans. They were working in plain view across the river with earth-moving machines, pontoons, rubber boats, and trucks. Some dug with shovels117; some patrolled with light machine guns in hatnhde. GUenrlike the Russians, concealed118 like wild eatures in the earth, mans were making no effort to hide themselves or what they were doing. cr Except for the helmets, guns, and long gray coats, they might have been a big crew on a peacetime construction job. Through binoculars119 handed him by a soldier-German binoculars-Victor Henry could see the eyeglasses and frost-purpled cheeks and noses of Hitler's chilled men. "You could shoot them like birds," he said in Russian. It was as close as he could come to the American idiom, "they're sitting ducks." The soldier grunted120. "Yes, and give away our position, and start them shelling us! No thanks, Gospodin American."If they ever get that bridge finished," said the commissar, "and start coming across, that'll.""That's what we're waiting for," said a pipe-smoking soldier with heavy drooping121 moustaches, who appeared to be in command of this hole in the ground. Pug said, "Do you really think you can hold out if they get across?" The three soldiers rolled their eyes at each other, weighing this question asked in bad Russian by a foreigner. Their mouths set sourly. Here, for the first time, in sight of the Germans, Victor Henry detected fear on Red Army faces. "Well, if it comes to that," said the pipe smoker122, every man has his time. A Russian soldier knows how to die." The political officer said briskly, "A soldier's duty is to live, comrade, not to die-to live and fight. They won't get across. Our big guns are trained on this crossing, and as soon as they've wasted all the time it takes to build a bridge, and they start across, we'll blast these Hitlerite rats! Eh, Polikov? How about it?" "That's right," said a bristle-faced soldier with a runny nose, crouched123 on the earth in a corner blowing on his red hands. "That's exactly right, Comrade Political Officer." Crawling through bushes or darting124 from tree to tree, Victor Henry and the commissar made their way along the dugoutsp pillboxes, trenches, and one-man posts of the thinly held line. A battalion of nine hundred men was covering five miles of the river here, the commissar said, to deny the Cennans access to an important road. "This campaign is simply a race," he panted, as they crawled between dugouts. "The Germans are trying to beat Father Frost into Moscow. That's the plain fact of it. They are pouring out their lifeblood to do it. But never fear, Father Frost is an old friend of Russia. He'll freeze them dead in the ice. You'll see, they'll never make it." The commissar was evidently on a morale-stiffening mission. Here and there, where they found a jolly leader in a trench113, the men seemed ready for the fight, but elsewhere fatalism darkened their eyes, slumped their shoulders, and showed in dirty weapons, disarrayed125 uniforms, and garbage-strewn holes. The commissar harangued126 them, exploiting the strange presence of an American to buck127 them up, but for the most part the hairy-faced Slavs stared at Henry with sarcastic128 incredulity as though to say-'If you're really an American, why are you so stupid as to come here yourself? We have no choice"worse luck." The Germans were in view all along the river, methodically and intimidating129, calmly preparing to cross. Their businesslike air was more Pug thought, than volleys of bullets. 'neir numbers were alarming, too; where did they all come from? The commissar and Victor Henry emerged from one of the largest dugouts and lay on their elbows in the snow. "Well, I have finished my tour of this part of the line, Captain. Perhaps you will rejoin your party now.""I'm ready." With a grim little smile, the commissar stumbled to his feet. "Keep in the shadows of the trees." When they got back to the jeep, Pug said, "How far are we from Moscow here?" "Oh, quite far enough." The commissar whirred the noisy engine. "I hope you saw what you wanted to see." "I saw a lot," Victor Henry said. The commissar turned his Lenin-like face at the American, appraising130 him with suspicious eyes. "It is not easy to understand the front just by looking at it." "I understand that you need a second front." understand the The Commissar uttered a brutal131 grfurntn.t,"iTfhweenmyuosut, Captain Genry, main thing. But even without the second cockroaches132." we ourselves will smash this plague of German By the time they reached the central square of the town, the snowfall had stopped and patches of fast-moving blue showed through the clouds. The wind was bitter cold. The tangle80 of trucks, wagons134, horses, and soldiers was worse than before. Vehement135 Russian cursing and arguing filled the air. The old women and the wrinkle-faced boys still watched the disorder136 with round sad eyes. In a big jam of vehicles around two fallen horses and an overturned ammunition137 wagon133, the jeep encountered the black automobile. Talky Tudsbury, in great spirits, stood near forty yelling soldiers and officers, watching the horses kick and struggle in tangled138 traces, while other soldiers gathered up long coppery shells that had spilled from burst boxes and lay softly gleaming in the snow. "Hello there! Back already? What a mess! It's a wonder the whole wagon didn't go up with a bang, what? And leave a hole a hundred feet across." "Where's Pamela?" Tudsbury flipped139 a thumb over his shoulder. "Back at the church. An artillery spotter is stationed in the belfry. There's supposed to be a great view, but I couldn't climb the damned tower. She's up there making some notes. How are things at the front? You've got to give me the whole picture. Brrr! What frost, eh? Do you suppose Jerry is starting to feel it in his balls a bit? Hullo, they've got the horses up." Amphiteatrov said he was taking Tudsbury to see a downed junker 88 in the nearby field. Pug told him that he had seen plenty of junker 88's; he would join Pam in the church and wait for them.
Ampbiteatrov made an annoyed face. "All right, but please remain there, Captain. We'll come back in twenty minutes or less." Pug said good-bye to the bearded commissar, who was sitting at the wheel of the jeep, bellowing140 at a scravmy soldier who clutched a live white goose. The soldier was coarsely shouting back, and the goose turned its orange beak141 and little eyes from one to the other as though trying to learn its fate. Making his way around the traffic tangle, Pug walked to the church on crunching142 squeaking144 dry snow. Freedom from the escort-even for a few minutes-felt strange and good. si the church, a strong unI In de churchlike miasma145 of medicine and disinfectant filled the air; peeling frescoes146 of blue big-eyed saints looked down from grimy walls, at bandaged soldiers who lay on straw mats smoking, talking to each other, or sadly staring. The narrow stone staircase spiralling up the inside of the belfry with no handholds made Pug queasy147, but up he went, edging along the rough wall, to a wooden platform level with big rusty148 bells, where wind gusted149 through four open brick arches. Here he caught his breath, and wooden ladder. mounted a shaky st brick walk, Pam waved and "Victor!" As he emerged on the topmo called to him. gi e job of tin sheets Seen this close, the bulging150 onion dome151 was a c,d yellow brick nailed rustily152 on a curving frame. Squared around it was a walk and parapet, where Pamela crouched in a corner, out of the whistling wind. The artillery spotter, shapeless and faceless in an ankle-length thick earflaps, manned brown coat, mittens153, goggles154, and fastened-down giant binoculars on a tripody pointed west. A fat black tomcat beside Pamela crouched over a bowl of soup, lapping, shaking its big head in distaste, nd the spotter were laughing at the cat. 'Too and lapping again. Pamela a look showed she clearly was much pepper, kitty?" Pamela's gay flirtatious155 ched far east and south to enjoying herself. Below, the bare plain stret distant forests, and west and north to the black wriggling156 river and sparse157 t of life, made thin noise in an woods. Straight downward the town, a clo empty white Hat world. "Vy Amerikanski offitzer?" The spotter showed fine teeth in the hairy uncovered patch of his face. "Da." 'Pos-niotritye?" The mittened158 hand tapped the binoculars. "Videte nemtzi?" Pug said. ("Can you see Germans?") "Slishkom m'nogo." ("Too many.") 'Odin slishkom m'nogo," Pug said. ("One is too many!") With a grim nod and chuckle159 the spotter stepped away from the bithem to the oculars. Pug's eyes were watering from the wind; he put n eyepieces and the Germans on the riverbank leaped into sight, blurry160 and small, still at the same work. "Doesn't it give you an eerie161 feeling?" Pam said, stroking the cat.
"They're so calm about it." Victor Henry went to a corner of the brick parapet and surveyed the s, hands jammed in his blue snowy vista162 through all points of the compas south to north, made a slow coat. The spotter, turning the binoculars from east on a long black sweep along the river, talking into a battered163 telephone wire that dangled164 over the parapet." The cat was washing itself, and "Kitty, don't forget behind the ears. Pamela scratched its head. Pug told her about his trip, meanwhile scanning the horizon round and round as though he were on a flying bridge. An odd movement in the distant snowy forest caught his notice. With his back to the spotter, he peered intently eastward165, shielding his eyes with one chapped red hand. 'Pass me those." She handed him small field glasses, in an open case beside the binocular stand. One quick look, and Pug tapped the spotter's shoulder and pointed. Swinging the large binoculars halfway166 round on the tripod, the spotter started with surprise, pulled off goggles and cap, and looked again. He had a lot of curly blond hair and freckles167, and he was only eighteen or twenty. Snatching up the telephone, he jiggled the hook, talked, jiggled some more, and gestured anger at no answer. Pulling on his cap, he went trampling168 down the ladder. "What is it?" Pamela said. 'Take a look." Pamela saw through the big eyepieces of the spotter's instrument a column of machines coming out of the woods. "Tanks?" 'Some are trucks and armored personnel cars. But yes, it's a tank unit." Victor Henry, glasses to his eyes, talked as though he were watching a parade. 'Aren't they Russians?" "No." 'But that's the direction we came from." "Yes." They looked each other in the eyes. Her red-cheeked face showed fear, but also a trace of nervous gaiety. "Then aren't we in a pickle169? Shouldn't we get down out of here and find Amphiteatrov?" To the naked eye the armored column was like a tiny black worm on the broad white earth, five or six miles away. Pug stared eastward, thinking. The possibilities of this sudden Turn were too disagreeable to be pu dragging of t into words. He felt a flash of anger at Tudsbury's selfish his daughter into hazard. Of course, nobody had planned on being surPrised in the rear by Germans; but there they were!
If the worst came to the worst, he felt he could handle himself with German captors, though there might be ugly moments with'soldiers before he could talk to an officer. But the Tudsburys were enemies. 'I'll tell you, Pam," he said, watching the worm pull clear of the forest and move sluggishly170 toward the town, leaving a black trail behind, "the colonel knows where we are now. Let's stick here for a while." "All right. How in God's name did the Germans get around back there?" "Amphiteatrov id theresa was trouble to the south. They must have broken across the river and hooked through the woods. It's not a large unit, it's a probe." The top of the ladder danced and banged under a heavy tread. The blond youngster came up, seized a stadimeter, pointed it at the Germans, and slid a vernier back and forth171. Hastily flattening172 out a small black and white grid173 map on one knee, he barked numbers into the telephone: "Five point six! One two four! R seven M twelve! That's right! That's right!" Animated174 and cheery now, he grinned at the visitors. "Our batteries are training on them. When they're good and close, we'll blow them to bits. So maybe you'll see something yet." He put on his goggles, changing back from a bright-eyed boy into a faceless grim spotter. Victor Henry said, "they're watching across the river for your batteries to fire." The spotter clumsily waved both heavy-clad arms. "Good, but we can't let those bastards175 take the town from the rear, can we?" "I hear airplanes." Pug turned his glasses westward to the sky. "Sa?Mlyuttil' "Da!" Swivelling and tilting176 the binoculars upward, the spotter began to shout into the phone. "Airplanes too?" Pamela's voice trembled. "Well, I'm more used to them." "that's the German drill," said Victor Henry. "Tanks and planes together." The oncoming planes, three Stukas, were growing bigger in Pug's glasses. The spotter switched his binoculars to the tanks again, and began cheering. Pug looked in that direction. "Holy cow! Now I call this military observing, Pam." Tanks in another column were coming out of the woods about halfway between the Germans and the town, moving on a course almost at right angles to the panzer track. He handed her the glasses and squinted177 toward the airplanes. "Oh! Oh!" Pamela exclaimed. "Ours?" 'Da!" cried the spotter, grinning at her. "Nashil Nashil" A hand struck her shoulder andknocked her to her hands and knees. "They're starting their dive," Victor Henry said. "Crawl up close to the dome and lie still." He was on his knees beside her. His cap had fallen off and rolled away, and he brushed black hair from his eyes to watch the planes. They tilted over and dove. When they were not much higher than the belfry, bombs fell out of them. With a mingled178 engine roar and wind screech179, they zoomed180 by. Pug could see the black crosses, the swastikas, the yellowish plexiglass cockpits. All around the church the bombs began exploding. The belfry shook. Flame, dirt, and smoke roared up beyond the parapet, but Pug remained clearheaded enough to note that the flying was ragged. The three ungainly black machines almost collided as they climbed and turned to dive again in a reckless tangle. The Luftwaffe had either lost most of its veteran pilots by now, he thought, or they were not flying on this sector181 of the front. Anti-aircraft guns were starting to pop and rattle182 in the town. Pamela's hand sought his. She was crouched behind him, against the dome. "Just lie low, this will be over soon." As Pug said this he saw one of the Stukas separating from the others and diving straight for the belfry. He shouted to the spotter, but the airplane noise, the chatter183 of A.A. guns, the clamor and cries from the town below, and the roar of the wind, quite drowned his voice. Tracers made a red dotted line to the belfry across the gray sky. The tin dome began to sing to rhythmically184 striking bullets. Victor Henry roughly pushed Pamela flat and threw himself on top of her. The plane stretched into a sizable black machine approaching through the air. Watching over his shoulder to the last, Victor Henry saw the pilot dimly behind his plexiglass, an unhelmeted young blond fellow with a toothy grin. He thought the youngster was going to crash into the dome, and as he winced, he felt something rip at his left shoulder. The airplane scream and roar and whiz mounted, went past, and diminished. The zinging and rattling185 of bullets stopped. Pug stood, feeling his shoulder. His sleeve was torn open at the very top and the shoulder board was dangling186, but there was no blood. The spotter was lying on the bricks beside the overturned binoculars. Bombs were exploding below; the other twO planes were still whistling and roaring over the town; one plane was smoking badly. Blood was pooling under the spotter's head, and with horror Pug perceived white broken bone of the skull187 showing through the torn shot-away cap, under blond hair and thick-moving red and gray ooze188. Pug went to the spotter and cautiously moved his goggles. The blue eyes were open, fixed189 and empty. The head wound was catastrophic. Picking up the telephone, Pug jiggled the hook till somebody answered. He shouted in Russian, "I am the American visitor up here. You understand?"He saw the smoking plane, which was trying to climb, burst into flames and fall. "Da! Where is Konstantin?" The voice sounded exhilarated. "Airplane killed him." "All right. Somebody else will come." Pamela had crawled beside the spotter and was looking at the dead face and smashed head. "Oh, my God, my God," she sobbed190, head in hand. The two surviving planes were climbing out of sight. Smoke rose from fires in the town, smelling of burning hay. To the east, the two tank unit tracks had almost joined in a black V, miles long, across the plain. PLig n owing in the line of vision, he righted the binoculars. rough smoke bill saw the tanks milling in a wild little yellow-flashing vortex on the broad white plain. Five of the KV monsters bulged191 among lighter192 Russian tanks. Several German tanks were on fire and their crewmen were running here and there in the snow like ants. Some German tanks and trucks were heading back to the woods. Pug saw only one light Russian tank giving off black smoke. But even as he watched, a KV burst into violent, beautiful purple-orange flame, casting a vivid pool of color on the snow. Meantime the rest of the German tanks began turning away. "Kitty! Oh, Christ, Christ, no, stop it!" Pam snatched up the cat, which was crouching193 over the dead man. She came to Pug, her tearstained face gaunt and stunned194, holding the creature in her arms. Its nose and whiskers were bloody and its tongue flickered195. "It's not the animal's fault," she choked. "The Russians are winning out there," Victor Henry said. She was staring at him with blank shocked round eyes, clutching the black cat close to her. Her hand went to the rip at his shoulder. "Dearest, are you hurt?" "No. Not at all. It went right on through." "thank God! Thank God!" The ladder jumped and rattled196, and Colonel Amphiteatrov's face, excited and red, showed at the top. "Well, you're all right. Well, I'm glad. That was best to stay right here. The bombing was bad in the town. Many people killed. Quick! Both of you. Come along, please." Then his eye fell on the body lying in blood. "Aghl' "We were strafed," Pug said. "He's dead." The colonel shook his head and sank out of sight, saying, "Well, please, come quickly.""Go first, Pam." Pamela looked at the dead spotter lying on the bricks in snow and blood, and then at the tin dome, and out at the tank fight, and the black V gouged197 in the landscape. "It seems I've been up here for a week. I can't get down the ladder with the cat. We mustn't leave it here." "Give the cat to me." Tucking the animal inside his bridge coat, steadying it with one arm, Victor Henry awkwardly followed her down the ladder and the spiral stairs. Once the cat squirmed, bit, and scratched, and he almost fell. He turned the cat loose outside the church, but the clanking vehicles or the rolling smoke alarmed the animal and it ran back in and vanished among the wounded. Through the open door of the black automobile Tudsbury waved his cane198 at them. "Hello! There's a monstrous199 tank battle going on just outside the town! They say there's at least a hundred tanks swirling200 around, an utter inferno201, happening right this minute! Hello, you've torn your coat, do you know that?" "Yes, I know." Though drained of spirit, Victor Henry was able to smile at the gap between journalism and war, as he detached his shoulder board and dropped it in his pocket. The reality of the two small groups of tanks banging away out there on the snowy plain seemed so pale and smallscale compared to Tudsbury's description. "We had a view of it," he said. Pamela got into the car and sank into a corner of the back seat, closing her eyes. " 'Did you? Well, Pam ought to be a help on this story! I say, Pam, you're all right, aren't you?" "I'm splendid, Talky, thank you," Pam said, faintly but clearly. Pug said to the colonel, 'We saw the Germans starting to run." "mid6. Well, Kaplan's battalion got the word from down south. That is a good battalion." Amphiteatrov slammed the car door. "Make yourselves comfortable please. We are going to drive straight back to Moscow now." "Oh no!" Tudsbury's fat face wrinkled up like an infant's. "I want to have a look when the fight's over. I want to interview the tank crews." Amphiteatrov turned and faced them, and showed his gums and teeth without smiling. Behind him through the frosted windshield they could vaguely202, see on the main street of the town smoke, fire, a plunging203 horse, soldiers running, and green army trucks in a slow-moving jam. "Well, there has been a very big breakthrough in the north. Moscow is in danger. Well, foreign missions all will be evacuated204 to the Caucasus. We must skedaddle." He brought out the awkward slang word humorlessly , and turned to thedriver. "Nu, skoror Under the blanket stretched across the passengers' legs, Pamela Tudsbury's gloved hand groped to Victor Henry's hand. She pulled off her glove, twined her cold fingers in his, and pressed her face against the torn shoulder of his bridge coat. His chapped hand tightened205 on hers. ESLI]G SLOTH206 heard footfalls in the dark, as he sat in an overcoat and fur hat, working by the light of a kerosene207 lamp, His desk overflowing208 with papers and reports stood directly under the grand unlit chandelier in the marble-pillared great hall of Spaso House, the ambassador's Moscow residence. "Who's there?" The nervous strident words reverberated209 in the empty halls. He recognized the white Navy cap, white scarf, and brass buttons, before he could make out the face. "Ye gods, Captain Henry, why didn't they take you straight to the Kazan Station? Maybe you can still make it. You've got to get out of Moscow tonight" "I've been to the station. The train to Kuibyshev had left." Pug brushed snow from his shoulders. "The air raid held us up outside the dty." Slote looked at his wristwatch in great agitation210. "But-that's terriblet God knows when there'll be another train to Kuibyshev-if ever. Don't you know that one German armored column's already passed by to the north and is cutting down behind the city? And they say another pincer is heading up from Kaluga. One doesn't know what to believe any more, but it's at least conceivable that in the next twenty-four hours we may be entirely211 surrounded. It begins to smell like Warsaw all over again." Slote gaily212 laughed. 'Sorry there are no chairs, a party of mad Georgian workmen came in and covered and stacked all the furniture-oh, there's a stool a after all, do sit down-" Pug said, "That's more than I know, about the German pincers, and I've just come from the Narkomindel." He sat down without opening his coat. It was almost as cold and dark in Spaso House as in the snowstorm outside. "Did you suppose they'd tell you anything? I got this straight from the Swedish ambassador, I assure you, at nine o'clock tonight in the dining room at the Kazan Station, when I was seeing off the staff. My God, that station was a spectacle to remember! One bomb hit would have wiped out all the foreign correspondents and nine-tenths of the diplomats213 ill Russia-and a healthy chunk214 of the Soviet bureaucracy too." "Have all the typewriters been stowed? I have to write a report." "There are typewriters in Colonel Yeaton's office. I have a skeleton staff, and we're to keep things going somehow until the charge gets organized in Kuibyshev." Slote gave this answer with absentminded calm, then jumped at a muffled sound from outside. "Was that a bomb? You have no time to write reports, Captain. It's really my responsibility to see that you leave Moscow at once, and I must insist that somehow-" Pug held up a hand. "The Nark's makingarrangements. There are other stragglers like me. I have to check back in at eleven in the morning." "Oh! Well, if the Narkomindel's assumed responsibility, that's that," Slote giggled215. Victor Henry looked narrowly at him. "How come you got stuck with this duty again? It seems kind of thick, after Warsaw."I volunteered. You look skeptical216. I truly did. After all, I've been through the - I wasn't to drill 0 proud of the job I did in Warsaw and I thought perhaps I could redeem217 mys& this time." "Why, Byron told me you did a helluva job in Warsaw, Leslie." "Did he? Byron's a gentleman. A knight218, almost. Which reminds me, an enormous pouch219 came in from Stockholm the day you left. There was stuff from Rome. Would you like to see a picture of your new grandson?" Fussing through papers on his desk he pulled a photograph from a wrinkled envelope. "There he is. Don't you think he's handsome?" The lamplight carved deep black marks in the naval officer's face as he read the sign on the back of the vmtn ha he snapshot, For old Slote Henry, aged20 ri s, t r la -Louis day U" h ci cus t lady, then contemplated220 the photograph. A Plump, hollow-eyed Natalie in a loose robe held a baby that looked star ingly like B t] Byron as an infant. The triangular221 face, the large serous eyes, the comics Ily determined222 look, the fine blond hair-they were the sam was was another n e Pried223 -t of the template that had molded his Son. He was much more of a Henry than Janice's boy. Victor Henry cleared his choked-up throat. -Not bad. Natalie's right, she's gotten fat." 'Hasn't e though? TOO much bed rest, she says. I'll bet the baby win be as clever as it's handsome-It looks clever." Victor Henry sat staring at the snapshot. Slote added, 'Would you care to keep that?" Henry at once extended it to him. "No, certainly not. She sent it to you. "I'll only lose it, Captain Heny. I have a better picture of Natalie." "Are you sure? All right.- Victor. Henry tried to express in an awkward smile the gratitude224 for which he could find no words. Carefully he put the print in an inner pocket. "What about the Tudsburys?" Slote asked. "Are they stuck in Moscow too?" "I left Talky trying to wangle a ride to Archangel for himself and Pam. The Russians are flying out some R.A.F pilot instructors225. I'm sure he'll get on that plane." 'Good. Did you run into any trouble at the front? What an idiocy226, dragging a girl out there!" "Well, we heard some firing, and saw some Germans. I'd better get at this report. If Talkydoes fly out, I want to give him a copy to forward via London." "Let me have a copy too, won't you? And another to go in the next pouch. If there is one." "You're a pesimist, Slote." 'I'm a realist. I was in Warsaw. I know what the German's can do." "Do you know what the Russians can do?" 'I thought I did. I was the Red Army's biggest booster in the embassy, until-' Slote shrugged227 and turned to his desk, blowing his nose. "the only thing that really gets me is this stink of burning paper. My God, how it brings back Warsaw! The embassy absolutely reeks228. We were burning and burning today, until the minute they all left. And there's still a ton that I've somehow got to get burned in the morning." "All Moscow stinks229 of it," Pug said. "It's the damnedest thing to drive through a snowstorm and smell burned paper. The city's one unholy mess, Slote. Have you seen all the barbed wire and tangled steel girders blocking the bridges? And good Lord, the mob at that railway station! The traffic jams heading east with headlights blazing, blackout be damned! I didn't know there were that many trucks and cars in the whole Soviet union. All piled with mattresses230 and old people and babies and what-all. And with those blue A.A. searchlights stir swinging overhead-God knows why -and the snow and the wind, I you it's a real end-of-the-world feeling." Slote chuckled231. "Yes, isn't it? This exodus232 began the day you leftIes been snowballing. A convoy233 of government big shots left yesterday in a line of honking234 black limousines235. Gad236, you should have seen the faces of the people along the streets! I'm sure that triggered this panic. However, I give Stalin credit. He's staying on to the last, and that takes courage, because when Hitler catches Stalin he'll just hang him like a dog in Red Square. And he'll drag Lenin's mummy out of the tomb too, and string it up alongside to crumble237 in the wind. Oh, there'll be stirring tngs to see and record here, for whoever survives to tell it all." Victor Henry rose. "Do you know there's no sentry at the door? I just walked in." "That's impossible. We're guarded night and day by a soldier assigned by the Narkomindel." "There's nobody there." Slote opened and Closed his mouth twice. "Are you positive? Why, we could be sacked by looters! It's getting near the end when soldiers leave their posts. I must call the Narkomindel. If I can get the operator to answer!" He jumped up and disappeared into the gloom. Victor Henry groped to the military attache's office. There he struck matches, and found and lit two kerosene lamps. In their bleak238 yellowgreen glow be surveyed the office. Bits of black ash flecked the floor and every surface. 'BURN-URGENT was scrawled239 in red crayon on manila folders240 topping heaps of reports, files, and loose papers piled on the floor and in the leather armchair. Emptied drawers and files stood open; a swivel chair was overturned; the place looked as though it had been robbed. On the desk, on a tYPewriter with bunched tangled keys, a message was propped241, printed in block letters on torn cardboard: IMPOUTIVE-BUYWTONIGHT conmws SECOND BROWN LOCKM FILE. (L. sLo-rE HAS C MiBiNA'noN.) Pug cleared the desk, untangled the typewriter keys and stood the lamps on either side of the machine. He found paper, carbons, and onionskin paper in a drawer. Spaso House October 16, 1941 THE MOSCOW FRONT-EYEWITNESS242 REPORT His cold stiff fingers struck wrong keys. Typing in a bridge coat was clumsy and difficult. The slow clicks of the machine echoed hollowly in the deserted243 embassy. One lamp began to smoke. He fiddled244 with the wick tmtil it burned clear. This report attempts a description of a visit to the fighting front west Of MOscow, from which I have just returned. Tonight, twenty miles outside the city, our car halted because of an air raid on Moscow. At a distance this was quite a spectacle: the fanning searchlights, the A.A. like an umbrella of colored fireworks over one patch of the horizon, blazing aw,y for half an hour straight. Whatever the Russian deficiencies, they seem to have an infinite supply of A.A. ammunition, and when the Luftwaffe ventures over the capital, they blow it skyward in huge displays. This bats anything I saw in Berlin or London. However, this brave show is not being matched on the ground in Moscow tonight. The town is getting ready for a Siege. It has an abnormal look, and the fainthearted are fleeing in a heavy snow. The Communist government is either unable or unwilling245 to stop the panic. I am told there is already a slang name for this mass exodus-Bolshoi Drap, the Big Scram. The foreign diplomats and newspapermen have been sent to Kuibyshev on the Volga, five hundred miles further east, and many government agencies are departing for the same haven246 en masse. Heavy vehicular and foot traffic eastward gives an undeniable aspect of rats leaving a sinking ship. However, it is reported that Stalin is staying on. I believe this panic is premature247, that Moscow has a fair chance of holding, and that even if it falls, the war may not end. I bring back many impressions from the front, but the outstanding one is that the Russians, though they are back on about their nine-yard line, are not beaten. The American leadership must guess whether Russia will stand or fall, and lay its bets accordingly in Lend-Lease shipments. An eyewitness account of the front, however fragmentary, may therefore be pertinent249. The typewriter was clicking fast now. It was almost one o'clock. Victor Henry still had to return to the hotel and pack. He chewed another it polar bear," the Russian chocolate candy, for energy, and began banging out the tale of his journey. Electricity all at once lit up the room, but he left the kerosene lamps burning and typed on.
In about half an hour the lights flickered, burned orange, dimmed, and pulsed, and went out. Still he typed ahead. He was describing the interior of the KV tank when Slote came in, saying, "You're really going at it." "You're working late yourself." "I'm getting to the bottom of the pile." Slote dropped on the desk a brown envelope sealed with wax. "By the way, that came in the pouch, too. Care for some coffee?" "You bet. Thanks." Pug stretched and walked up and down the room, beating his arms and stamping his feet, before he broke the seal of the envelope. There were two letters inside, one from the White House and one from the Bureau of Personnel. He hesitated, then opened the White House letter; a few sentences in Harry250 Hopkins's dashed-off slanting251 hand filled a pageMy dear Pug1 want to congratulate you on your new assignment, and to convey the Boss's good wishes. He is very preoccupied252 with the Japanese, who are beginning to get ugly, and of course we are all watching the Russian struggle with anxiety. I still think-and pray-they'll hold. I hope my letter reached Stalin. He's a land crab253, and he's got to be convinced that the Channel crossing is a major task, otherwise bad faith accusations254 will start to fly, to Hitler's delight. There's been an unfortunate upturn255 in submarine sinkings in the Atlantic, and the Germans are cutting loose in Africa, too. All in all the good cause seems to be heading into the storm. You'll be missed in the gray fraternity of office boys. Harry H. The other envelope contained a Navy letter form in tele aphic style: gr MMLGRAM IPROM: nM CHIEF OF PFRSONNIEL. TO: VICTOR (NONE) HENRY, CAPTAIN, U.S.N. DETACHED ONE NOVEMBER PRESENT DUTY X PROCEED FASTEST AVAILABLE TRANSPORTATION PL OR X REPORT CALIFORNIA (BE 64) RELIEVE CO X SUBMIT VOUCHERS256 OF TRAVEL EXPENSES COM]BAT FOR PL In bald trite257 Navy jargon258 on a flimsy yellow sheet, here command of battleship. And what a battleship! The California,theoldPruneBarge,(was) ashipinwhich(a) he had served twice, as an ensign and as a lieutenant259 commander, which he knew well and loved; the ship named for his own home state, launched in 1919 and completely modernized260. Captain of the California! Pug Henry'S first reaction was orderly and calculating. Evidently Admiral King's staff was a trap he had escaped. In his class only Warendorf, Munson, and Brown had battleships, and Robinson had the Saratoga. His strange "gray oit:ice boy" service to the President had proveda career shortcut261 after all, and flag rank was suddenly and brightly back in sight. He thought of Rhoda, because she had sweated out with him the twenty-seven-year wait for this bit of yellow tissue paper; and of Pamela, because he wanted to share his excitement right now. But he was not even ure that he would see her again in Moscow. They had parted at the railroad station with a strong handclasp, as Talky Tudsbury pleaded with the R.A.F pilots to take him along and simultaneously262 blustered263 at a Narkomindel man who was trying to lead him off. Leslie Slote walked in, carrying two glass tumblers of black coffee. "Anything good?" "New orders. Command Of the California.m "Oh? What is that?" "A battleship." "A battleship?" Slote sipped264 coffee, looking doubtu. 'Is that what you wanted next?" "Well, it's a change." "I should think you'd find it somewhat confining and-well, routine, after the sort of thing you've been doing. Not many naval officers-in fact not many Americans-have talked to Stalin face to face." "Leslie, I'm not entirely unhappy with these orders." 'Oh' Well, then, I gather congratulations are in order. How are you coming with that report? I'm almost ready to Turn in." "Couple of hours to go." "You won't get much sleep." Slote went out shaking his head. Victor Henry sat drinking coffee, meditating265 on this little rectangle of yellow paper, the sudden irreversible verdict on his life. He could ask for no better judgment266. This was the blue ribbon, the A-plus, the gold medal of naval service. Yet a nag267 in his spirit shadowed the Marvelous news. What was it? Between sips268 of coffee, probing his own heart, Pug found out something surprising about himself. After more than twenty-five years, he had slightly outgrown269 his career drive. He was interested in the war. At War Plans, he had been waging a vigilant270 fight to keep priorities high for the landing craft program. "Pug's girlfriend Elsie" was no joke; but now he could no longer carry on that fight. Mike Drayton would take over. Mike was an excellent officer, a commander with a solid background in BuShips and an extraordinary knowledge of the country's industries. But he was not pugnacious271 and he lacked rank. "Elsie" was going to lose ground. That could not last. One day the crunch143 would come-Henry was sure of this from hisoperational studies-and landing craft would shoot to the top of the priority fist, and a frantic272 scramble55 would ensue to get them made. The war effort might suffer; conceivably a marginal landing operation would fail, with bad loss of life. But it was absurd, Pug thought, to feel the weight of the war on his shoulders, and to become as obsessed273 by 'Elsie" as he had once been by his own career. That was swinging to the other extreme. The war was bigger than anybody; he was a small replaceable cog. One way or another, sooner or later, the United States would produce enough landing craft to beat Hitler. Meantime he had to go to his battleship. Taking a lamp to a globe standing248 in the corner, he used thumb and forefinger274 to step off the distance from Moscow to Pearl Harbor. He found it made surprisingly little difference whether he travelled west or east; the two places were at opposite ends of the earth. But which direction would offer less delay and hazard? Westward lay all the good fast transportation, across the Atlantic and the United States, and then the Pan Am hop40 from San Francisco to Honolulu. Duck soup! Unfortunately, in that direction the fiery275 barrier of the war now made Europe impassable from Spitzbergen to Sicily, and from Moscow to the English Channel. Tenuous276 lanes through the fire remained: the North Sea convoy run, and a chancy air connection between Stockholm and London. In theory, if he could get to Stockholm, he could even pass via Berlin and Madrid to Lisbon; but Captain Victor Henry had no intention of setting foot in Germany or German-dominated soil on his way to take command of the California. His coarsely insulting last remark to Wolf Steller about Goering undoubtedly277 was on the record. The Germans, now so close to world victory, might enjoy laying hands on Victor Henry. Well then, eastward? Slow uncertain Russian trains, jammed already with fugitives278 from the German attack; occasional, even more uncertain Russian planes. But the way was peaceful and a bit shorter, especially from Kuibyshev, five hundred miles nearer Pearl Harbor. Yes, he thought, he had better start arranging now with the distraught Russians to make his way around the world eastward. "You look like a mad conqueror," he heard Slote say. "Huh?" "Gloating over the globe by lamplight. You just need the little black mustache." The Foreign Service officer leaned in the doorway279, running a finger along his smoking pipe. 'We have a visitor out here." By the desk under the chandelier, a Russian soldier stood slapping snow from his'long khaki coat. He took off his peaked army cap to shake it by an earflap, and Pug was startled to recognize jochanan Jastrow. The man's hair was clipped short now; he had a scraggly growth of brown beard flecked with gray, and he looked very coarse and dirty. He explained in German, answering Slote's questions, that in order to get warm clothes and some legal papers, he had passed himself off as a soldier from a routed unit. The Moscow authorities werecollecting such refugees and stragglers and forming them into emergency work battalions280, with few questions asked. He had had a set of false papers; a police inspector281 in an air raid shelter had queried282 him and picked them up, but he had managed to escape from the man. More forged papers could be bought-there was a regular market for them-but he preferred army identification right now. "In this country, sir," he said, "a person who doesn't have papers is worse off than a dog or a pig. A dog or a pig can eat and sleep without papers. A man can't. After a while maybe there will be a change for the better in the war, and I can find my family." 'Where are they?" Slote said. "With the partisans283, near Smolensk. My son's wife got sick and I left them there." Pug said, "You're not planning to go back through the German lines?" Natalie's relative gave him a strange crooked284 smile. One side of the bearded mouth curled upward, uncovering white teeth, while the other side remained fixed and grim. "Russia is a very big country, Captain Henry, full of woods. For their own safety the Germans stick close to the main roads. I have already passed through the lines. Thousands of people have done it." He turned to Leslie Slote. "So. But I heard all the foreigners are leaving Moscow. I wanted to find out what happened to the documents I gave you." The Foreign Service officer and Victor Henry looked at each other, with much the same expressions of hesitation285 and embarrassment286. "Well, I showed the documents to an important American newspaperman," Slote said. "He sent a long story to the United States, but I'm afraid it ended I up as a little item in the back pages. You see, there have been so many I stories of German atrocities287!" I 'Stories like this?" exclaimed Jastrow, his bristly face showing anger and disappointment. "Children, mothers, old people? In their homes, not doing anything, taken out in the middle of the night to a hole dug in the woods and shot to death?" 'Most horrible. Perhaps the army commander in the Minsk area was an insanely fanatical Nazi." "But the shooters were not soldiers. I told you that. They had different uniforms. And here in Moscow, people from the Ukraine and from up north are telling the same stories. This thing is happening all over, sir, not just in Minsk. Please forgive me, but why did you not give those documents to your ambassador? I am sure he would have sent them to President Roosevelt." 'I did bring your papers to his attention. I'm sorry to say that our intelligence people questioned their authenticity288." "What? But sir, that is incredible! I can bring you ten people tomorrow who will tell such stories, and give affidavits290. Some of them are eyewitnesses291 who escaped from the very trucks the Germans used, and-' In a tone of driven exasperation292, Slote broke in, "Look here, my dear chap, I'm one man almost alone now"-he gestured at his piled-up deskIt responsible for all mycountry's affairs in Moscow. I really think I have done my best for you. In showing your documents to a newspaperman after our intelligence people had questioned them, I violated instructions. I received a serious reprimand. In fact, I took this dirty job of staying on in Moscow mainly to put myself right. Your story is ghastly, and I myself am unhappily inclined to believe it, but it's only a small part of this hideous293 war. Moscow may fall in the next seventy-two hours, and that's my main business now. I'm sorry." Jastrow took the outburst without blinking and answered in a quiet, dogged tone, "I am very sorry about the reprimand. However, if President Roosevelt could only find out about this crazy slaughter294 of innocent people, he would put a stop to it. He is the only man in the whole world who can do it." Jastrow turned to Victor Henry. 'Do you know of any other way, Captain, that the story could possibly be told to President Roosevelt?" Pug was already picturing himself writing a letter to the President. He had seen several stories like Jastrow's in print, and even more gruesome official reports about German slaughter of Russian partisans and villagers. Such a letter would be futile295; worse than futile-unprofessional. It would be nagging296 the President about things he suspected or knew. He, Victor Henry, was a naval officer, on temporary detached duty in the Soviet union for Lend-Lease matters. Such a letter would be the sort of impertinence Byron had offered at the President's table; but Byron at least had been a youngster concerned about his own wife. Victor Henry answered Jastrow by turning his hands upward. With a melancholy297 nod, Jastrow said, "Naturally, it is outside your province. Have you had news of Natalie? Have she and Aaron gone home yet?" Pug pulled the snapshot from his breast pocket. "This picture was taken several weeks ago. Maybe by now they're out. I expect so." Holding the picture to the light, Jastrow's face broke into an incongruously warm and gentle beam. "Why, it is a small Byron. God bless him and keep him safe from harm." Peering at Victor Henry, whose eyes misted at these few sentimental298 words in German, he handed back the photograph. "Well, you gentlemen have been gracious to me. I have done the best I could to tell you what happened in Minsk. Maybe my documents will reach the right person one day. They are true, and I pray to God somebody soon finds a way to tell President Roosevelt what is happening. He must rescue the Jews out of the Germans' claws. Only he can do it." With this jochanan Jastrow gave them his mirthless crooked smile and faded into the darkness outside the small glow of the kerosene lamp. When his alarm clock woke him after an hour or two of exhausted299 slumber300, Pug scarcely remembered writing the letter which lay on the desk beside the clock, scrawled on two sheetsof Hotel National paper. The tiny barren room was freezing cold, though the windows were sealed shut. He threw on a heavy wooren bathrobe he had bought in London, and an extra pair of warm socks, and sat at the desk to reread the letter. My dear Mr. President: Command of the California fulfills301 my life's ambitions. I can only try to serve in a way that will justify302 this trust. Mr. Hopkins is receiving a report on a visit I made at his request to the front outside Moscow. I put in all the trivial details which might not be worthy303 of your attention. My basic impression was confirmed that the Russians will probably hold the Germans and in time drive them out. But the cost will be terrible. Meantime they need and deserve all the aid we can send them, as quickly as possible. For our own selfish purposes, we can't make better use of arms, because they are killing304 large numbers of Germans. I saw many of the dead ones. I also take the liberty to mention that the embassy here has recently received documentary evidence of an almost incredible mass slaying305 of Jews outside the city of Minsk by some German paramilitary units. I remember your saying on the Augusta that scolding Hitler any further would be humiliating and futile. But in Europe, America is regarded as the last bastion of humanity; and you, Mr. President, are to these people the voice of the righteous God on earth. It's a heavy burden, but nevertheless that is the fact. I'venture to suggest that you ask to see this material about Minsk yourself. The Germans will think twice about proceeding306 with such outrages307 if you denounce them to the world and back up your condemnation308 with documentary evidence. Also, world opinion might be turned once and for all against the Hitler government. Respectfully yours, Victor Henry, Captain, U.S.N. In this fresh look after a sleep, the letter struck him most forcibly as an ill-considered communication, for which the right place was the wastebasket. The first two paragraphs were innocuous; but the President's sharp eye would at once detect that they were padding. The rest, the meat of the letter, was superfluous309 and even offensive. He was advising the President to go over the heads of everybody in the State Department, including his own ambassador in the Soviet union, to demand a look at some documents. The odds310 against Roosevelt's actually doing this were prohibitive; and his opinion of Victor Henry would certainly drop. He would at once recall that Henry had a Jewish daughter-in-law, about whom there had been trouble. And Pug did not even know that the documents were authentic289. Jastrow might have been sent by the NKVD, as Tudsbury thought, to plant the material for American consumption. The man seemed genuine, but that proved nothing. In his career Henry had drafted dozens of wrongly conceived letters to get a problem out of his system, and then had discarded the letters. He had a hard editorial eye, and an unerring sense of professional selfpreservation. He threw the letter face down on the desk as a heavy rapping came at the door. There stood Alistair Tudsbury, leaning on his cane in the doorway,enormous and red-faced in an astrakhan hat and a long brown fur coat. "Thank God you're here, old friend." The correspondent limped to an armchair and sat in a dusty shaft311 of sunlight, stretching out his bad leg. "Sorry to crash in on you like this, but-I say, you're all right, aren't you?" -Oh yes. I'm just great." Pug was rubbing his face hard with both hands. "I was up all night writing a report. What's doing?" The correspondent's bulging eyes probed at him. "This is going to be difficult, but here it is straight. Are you and Pamela lovers?" "What!" Pug was too startled, and too tired, to be either angry or amused. 'y, no! Of course not." "Well, funnily enough, I didn't think you were. That makes it all e the more awkward and baffling, Pamela has just told me flatly that she's not returning to London unless you're going there! If you're off to Kuibyshev, she means to tag along and work for the British embassy or something. Now this is wild nonsense!" Tudsbury burst out, banging the cane on the floor. "To begin with, I know the Nark won't have it. But she's turned to stone. There's no reasoning with her. And those R.A.F fellows are flying off at nbon, and they've got space for both of us." "Where is she now?" 'y, she's gone out for a stroll in Red Square, of all things! Can you imagine? Won't even pack, you see. Victor, I'm not coming the indignant father on you, you do realize that, don't you?" Talky Tudsbury appeared in a manic state of verbosity312 even for him. "That would be a most absurd stance for me to take. Hell, I've done exactly as I pleased in these little matters myself all my life. She'd laugh in my face if I tried to talk morality to her. But what about common sense? You don't want her trailing after you, a happily married man, do you? it's so embarrassing! In any case, what about Ted2 Gallard? Why, she told me to tell him it was all off! When I said I'd do nothing of the sort, she sat down and scribbled313 a letter for him and threw it in my bag. I tell you I'm having the devil of a time with Pam." Putting a hand to his brow, Victor Henry said in weary tones, yet with a glad surge at heart, "Well, take my word for it, I'm utterly314 amazed." "I was sure you would be. I've told her till I'm blue in the face that it's no go, that you're a straitlaced old-fashioned man, the soul of honor, devoted315 to your wife, and all that sort of thing. Well, the minx simply agrees and says that's why -,he likes you. Quite unreachable!
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1
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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2
ted
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| vt.翻晒，撒，撒开 | |
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3
jolted
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| （使）摇动， （使）震惊( jolt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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jolt
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| v.（使）摇动，（使）震动，（使）颠簸 | |
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5
mire
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| n.泥沼，泥泞；v.使...陷于泥泞，使...陷入困境 | |
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6
mid
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| adj.中央的，中间的 | |
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7
shovelled
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| v.铲子( shovel的过去式和过去分词 )；锹；推土机、挖土机等的)铲；铲形部份 | |
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8
planks
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| （厚）木板( plank的名词复数 )； 政纲条目，政策要点 | |
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9
artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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10
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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11
considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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12
zigzags
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| n.锯齿形的线条、小径等( zigzag的名词复数 )v.弯弯曲曲地走路，曲折地前进( zigzag的第三人称单数 ) | |
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13
westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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14
meandering
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| 蜿蜒的河流，漫步，聊天 | |
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15
orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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16
squelching
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| v.发吧唧声，发扑哧声( squelch的现在分词 )；制止；压制；遏制 | |
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17
random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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18
slashes
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| n.（用刀等）砍( slash的名词复数 )；（长而窄的）伤口；斜杠；撒尿v.挥砍( slash的第三人称单数 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
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19
clumps
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| n.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的名词复数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声v.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的第三人称单数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声 | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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22
blistered
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| adj.水疮状的，泡状的v.（使）起水泡( blister的过去式和过去分词 )；（使表皮等）涨破，爆裂 | |
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23
caterpillar
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| n.毛虫，蝴蝶的幼虫 | |
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24
stink
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| vi.发出恶臭；糟透，招人厌恶；n.恶臭 | |
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25
corpses
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| n.死尸，尸体( corpse的名词复数 ) | |
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26
sprawled
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| v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的过去式和过去分词)；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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27
slumped
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| 大幅度下降，暴跌( slump的过去式和过去分词 )； 沉重或突然地落下[倒下] | |
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28
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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29
sodden
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| adj.浑身湿透的；v.使浸透；使呆头呆脑 | |
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30
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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31
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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32
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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33
Nazi
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| n.纳粹分子，adj.纳粹党的，纳粹的 | |
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34
salutes
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| n.致敬，欢迎，敬礼( salute的名词复数 )v.欢迎，致敬( salute的第三人称单数 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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35
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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36
penetrate
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| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
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37
seaman
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| n.海员，水手，水兵 | |
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38
warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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39
battalion
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| n.营；部队；大队(的人) | |
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40
hop
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| n.单脚跳，跳跃；vi.单脚跳，跳跃；着手做某事；vt.跳跃，跃过 | |
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41
trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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42
automobile
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| n.汽车，机动车 | |
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43
saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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44
busted
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| adj. 破产了的，失败了的，被降级的，被逮捕的，被抓到的 动词bust的过去式和过去分词 | |
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45
camouflage
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| n./v.掩饰，伪装 | |
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46
blotches
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| n.（皮肤上的）红斑，疹块( blotch的名词复数 )；大滴 [大片]（墨水或颜色的）污渍 | |
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47
dispersed
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| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
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48
thickets
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| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
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49
turret
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| n.塔楼，角塔 | |
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50
turrets
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| （六角）转台( turret的名词复数 )； （战舰和坦克等上的）转动炮塔； （摄影机等上的）镜头转台； （旧时攻城用的）塔车 | |
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51
knuckle
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| n.指节；vi.开始努力工作；屈服，认输 | |
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52
lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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53
batch
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| n.一批(组，群)；一批生产量 | |
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54
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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55
scramble
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| v.爬行，攀爬，杂乱蔓延，碎片，片段，废料 | |
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56
clutter
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| n.零乱，杂乱；vt.弄乱，把…弄得杂乱 | |
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57
machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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58
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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59
hull
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| n.船身；(果、实等的)外壳；vt.去(谷物等)壳 | |
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60
glamorous
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| adj.富有魅力的；美丽动人的；令人向往的 | |
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61
bolster
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| n.枕垫；v.支持，鼓励 | |
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62
harangue
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| n.慷慨冗长的训话，言辞激烈的讲话 | |
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63
attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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64
naval
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| adj.海军的，军舰的，船的 | |
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morale
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| n.道德准则，士气，斗志 | |
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66
virile
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| adj.男性的；有男性生殖力的；有男子气概的；强有力的 | |
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67
fascist
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| adj.法西斯主义的；法西斯党的；n.法西斯主义者，法西斯分子 | |
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68
hyenas
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| n.鬣狗( hyena的名词复数 ) | |
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69
petroleum
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| n.原油，石油 | |
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70
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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71
Soviet
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| adj.苏联的，苏维埃的；n.苏维埃 | |
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72
wig
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| n.假发 | |
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73
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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74
bellow
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| v.吼叫，怒吼；大声发出，大声喝道 | |
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75
socialist
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| n.社会主义者；adj.社会主义的 | |
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76
hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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77
Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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78
flare
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| v.闪耀，闪烁；n.潮红；突发 | |
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79
sentry
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| n.哨兵，警卫 | |
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80
tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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81
accordion
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| n.手风琴；adj.可折叠的 | |
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82
huddling
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| n. 杂乱一团, 混乱, 拥挤 v. 推挤, 乱堆, 草率了事 | |
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83
frigid
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| adj.寒冷的，凛冽的；冷淡的；拘禁的 | |
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84
winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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85
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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86
dictated
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| v.大声讲或读( dictate的过去式和过去分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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87
journalism
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| n.新闻工作，报业 | |
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88
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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89
plaintive
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| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
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90
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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91
irrelevant
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| adj.不恰当的，无关系的，不相干的 | |
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92
stimulus
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| n.刺激，刺激物，促进因素，引起兴奋的事物 | |
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93
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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94
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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95
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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96
informative
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| adj.提供资料的，增进知识的 | |
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97
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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98
camouflaged
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| v.隐蔽( camouflage的过去式和过去分词 )；掩盖；伪装，掩饰 | |
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99
blotting
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| 吸墨水纸 | |
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100
jolting
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| adj.令人震惊的 | |
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101
loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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102
dourly
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103
slanted
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| 有偏见的； 倾斜的 | |
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104
trademark
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| n.商标；特征；vt.注册的…商标 | |
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105
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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106
automobiles
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| n.汽车( automobile的名词复数 ) | |
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107
tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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108
jauntily
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| adv.心满意足地；洋洋得意地；高兴地；活泼地 | |
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109
muffling
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| v.压抑，捂住( muffle的现在分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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110
craters
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| n.火山口( crater的名词复数 )；弹坑等 | |
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111
evergreens
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| n.常青树，常绿植物，万年青( evergreen的名词复数 ) | |
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112
trenches
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| 深沟，地沟( trench的名词复数 )； 战壕 | |
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113
trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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114
dummy
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| n.假的东西；(哄婴儿的)橡皮奶头 | |
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115
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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116
slit
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| n.狭长的切口；裂缝；vt.切开，撕裂 | |
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117
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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118
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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119
binoculars
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| n.双筒望远镜 | |
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120
grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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121
drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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122
smoker
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| n.吸烟者，吸烟车厢，吸烟室 | |
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123
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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124
darting
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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125
disarrayed
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| vt.使混乱（disarray的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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126
harangued
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| v.高谈阔论( harangue的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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127
buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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128
sarcastic
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| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
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129
intimidating
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| vt.恐吓，威胁( intimidate的现在分词) | |
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130
appraising
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| v.估价( appraise的现在分词 )；估计；估量；评价 | |
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131
brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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132
cockroaches
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| n.蟑螂( cockroach的名词复数 ) | |
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133
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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134
wagons
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| n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 )；铁路货车；小手推车 | |
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135
vehement
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| adj.感情强烈的；热烈的；(人)有强烈感情的 | |
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136
disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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137
ammunition
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| n.军火，弹药 | |
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138
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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139
flipped
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| 轻弹( flip的过去式和过去分词 )； 按（开关）； 快速翻转； 急挥 | |
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140
bellowing
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的现在分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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141
beak
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| n.鸟嘴，茶壶嘴，钩形鼻 | |
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142
crunching
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| v.嘎吱嘎吱地咬嚼( crunch的现在分词 )；嘎吱作响；（快速大量地）处理信息；数字捣弄 | |
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143
crunch
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| n.关键时刻；艰难局面；v.发出碎裂声 | |
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144
squeaking
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| v.短促地尖叫( squeak的现在分词 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
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145
miasma
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| n.毒气；不良气氛 | |
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146
frescoes
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| n.壁画( fresco的名词复数 )；温壁画技法，湿壁画 | |
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147
queasy
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| adj.易呕的 | |
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148
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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149
gusted
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| n. 突然一阵 n. 风味 vi. 猛吹 | |
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150
bulging
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| 膨胀； 凸出（部）； 打气； 折皱 | |
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151
dome
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| n.圆屋顶，拱顶 | |
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152
rustily
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| 锈蚀地，声音沙哑地 | |
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153
mittens
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| 不分指手套 | |
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154
goggles
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| n.护目镜 | |
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155
flirtatious
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| adj.爱调情的，调情的，卖俏的 | |
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156
wriggling
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的现在分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等）；蠕蠕 | |
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157
sparse
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| adj.稀疏的，稀稀落落的，薄的 | |
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158
mittened
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| v.（使）变得潮湿，变得湿润( moisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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159
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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160
blurry
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| adj.模糊的；污脏的，污斑的 | |
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161
eerie
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| adj.怪诞的；奇异的；可怕的；胆怯的 | |
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162
vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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163
battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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164
dangled
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| 悬吊着( dangle的过去式和过去分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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165
eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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166
halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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167
freckles
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| n.雀斑，斑点( freckle的名词复数 ) | |
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168
trampling
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| 踩( trample的现在分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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169
pickle
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| n.腌汁，泡菜；v.腌，泡 | |
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170
sluggishly
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| adv.懒惰地；缓慢地 | |
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171
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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172
flattening
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| n. 修平 动词flatten的现在分词 | |
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173
grid
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| n.高压输电线路网；地图坐标方格；格栅 | |
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174
animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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175
bastards
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| 私生子( bastard的名词复数 )； 坏蛋； 讨厌的事物； 麻烦事 （认为别人走运或不幸时说）家伙 | |
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176
tilting
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| 倾斜，倾卸 | |
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177
squinted
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| 斜视( squint的过去式和过去分词 )； 眯着眼睛； 瞟； 从小孔或缝隙里看 | |
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178
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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179
screech
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| n./v.尖叫；(发出)刺耳的声音 | |
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180
zoomed
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| v.（飞机、汽车等）急速移动( zoom的过去式 )；（价格、费用等）急升，猛涨 | |
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181
sector
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| n.部门，部分；防御地段，防区；扇形 | |
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182
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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183
chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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184
rhythmically
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| adv.有节奏地 | |
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185
rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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186
dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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187
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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188
ooze
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| n.软泥，渗出物；vi.渗出，泄漏；vt.慢慢渗出，流露 | |
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189
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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190
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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191
bulged
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| 凸出( bulge的过去式和过去分词 )； 充满； 塞满（某物） | |
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192
lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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193
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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194
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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195
flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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196
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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197
gouged
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| v.凿( gouge的过去式和过去分词 )；乱要价；（在…中）抠出…；挖出… | |
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198
cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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199
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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200
swirling
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
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201
inferno
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| n.火海；地狱般的场所 | |
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202
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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203
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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204
evacuated
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| 撤退者的 | |
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205
tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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206
sloth
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| n.[动]树懒；懒惰，懒散 | |
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207
kerosene
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| n.(kerosine)煤油，火油 | |
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208
overflowing
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| n. 溢出物,溢流 adj. 充沛的，充满的 动词overflow的现在分词形式 | |
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209
reverberated
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| 回响，回荡( reverberate的过去式和过去分词 )； 使反响，使回荡，使反射 | |
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210
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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211
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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212
gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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213
diplomats
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| n.外交官( diplomat的名词复数 )；有手腕的人，善于交际的人 | |
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214
chunk
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| n.厚片，大块，相当大的部分（数量） | |
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215
giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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216
skeptical
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| adj.怀疑的，多疑的 | |
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217
redeem
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| v.买回，赎回，挽回，恢复，履行（诺言等） | |
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218
knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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219
pouch
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| n.小袋，小包，囊状袋；vt.装...入袋中，用袋运输；vi.用袋送信件 | |
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220
contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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221
triangular
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| adj.三角（形）的，三者间的 | |
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222
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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223
pried
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| v.打听，刺探（他人的私事）( pry的过去式和过去分词 )；撬开 | |
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224
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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225
instructors
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| 指导者，教师( instructor的名词复数 ) | |
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226
idiocy
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| n.愚蠢 | |
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227
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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228
reeks
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| n.恶臭( reek的名词复数 )v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的第三人称单数 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
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229
stinks
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| v.散发出恶臭( stink的第三人称单数 )；发臭味；名声臭；糟透 | |
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230
mattresses
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| 褥垫，床垫( mattress的名词复数 ) | |
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231
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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232
exodus
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| v.大批离去，成群外出 | |
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233
convoy
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| vt.护送，护卫，护航；n.护送；护送队 | |
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234
honking
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| v.（使）发出雁叫似的声音，鸣（喇叭），按（喇叭）( honk的现在分词 ) | |
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235
limousines
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| n.豪华轿车( limousine的名词复数 )；（往返机场接送旅客的）中型客车，小型公共汽车 | |
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236
gad
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| n.闲逛；v.闲逛 | |
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237
crumble
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| vi.碎裂，崩溃；vt.弄碎，摧毁 | |
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238
bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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239
scrawled
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| 乱涂，潦草地写( scrawl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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240
folders
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| n.文件夹( folder的名词复数 )；纸夹；（某些计算机系统中的）文件夹；页面叠 | |
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241
propped
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| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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242
eyewitness
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| n.目击者，见证人 | |
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243
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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244
fiddled
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| v.伪造( fiddle的过去式和过去分词 )；篡改；骗取；修理或稍作改动 | |
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245
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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246
haven
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| n.安全的地方，避难所，庇护所 | |
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247
premature
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| adj.比预期时间早的；不成熟的，仓促的 | |
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248
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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249
pertinent
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| adj.恰当的；贴切的；中肯的；有关的；相干的 | |
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250
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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251
slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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252
preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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253
crab
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| n.螃蟹，偏航，脾气乖戾的人，酸苹果；vi.捕蟹，偏航，发牢骚；vt.使偏航，发脾气 | |
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254
accusations
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| n.指责( accusation的名词复数 )；指控；控告；（被告发、控告的）罪名 | |
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255
upturn
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| n.情况好转 | |
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256
vouchers
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| n.凭证( voucher的名词复数 )；证人；证件；收据 | |
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257
trite
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| adj.陈腐的 | |
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258
jargon
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| n.术语，行话 | |
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259
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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260
modernized
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| 使现代化，使适应现代需要( modernize的过去式和过去分词 )； 现代化，使用现代方法 | |
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261
shortcut
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| n.近路，捷径 | |
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262
simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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263
blustered
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| v.外强中干的威吓( bluster的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮；（风）呼啸；狂吹 | |
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264
sipped
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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265
meditating
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| a.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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266
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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267
nag
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| v.(对…)不停地唠叨；n.爱唠叨的人 | |
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268
sips
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| n.小口喝，一小口的量( sip的名词复数 )v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的第三人称单数 ) | |
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269
outgrown
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| 长[发展] 得超过（某物）的范围( outgrow的过去分词 )； 长[发展]得不能再要（某物）； 长得比…快； 生长速度超过 | |
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270
vigilant
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| adj.警觉的，警戒的，警惕的 | |
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271
pugnacious
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| adj.好斗的 | |
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272
frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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273
obsessed
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| adj.心神不宁的,鬼迷心窍的,沉迷的 | |
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274
forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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275
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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276
tenuous
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| adj.细薄的，稀薄的，空洞的 | |
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277
undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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278
fugitives
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| n.亡命者，逃命者( fugitive的名词复数 ) | |
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279
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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280
battalions
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| n.（陆军的）一营（大约有一千兵士）( battalion的名词复数 )；协同作战的部队；军队；（组织在一起工作的）队伍 | |
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281
inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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282
queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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283
partisans
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| 游击队员( partisan的名词复数 )； 党人； 党羽； 帮伙 | |
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284
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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285
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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286
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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287
atrocities
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| n.邪恶，暴行( atrocity的名词复数 )；滔天大罪 | |
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288
authenticity
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| n.真实性 | |
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289
authentic
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| a.真的，真正的；可靠的，可信的，有根据的 | |
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290
affidavits
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| n.宣誓书，（经陈述者宣誓在法律上可采作证据的）书面陈述( affidavit的名词复数 ) | |
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291
eyewitnesses
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| 目击者( eyewitness的名词复数 ) | |
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292
exasperation
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| n.愤慨 | |
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293
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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294
slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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295
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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296
nagging
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| adj.唠叨的，挑剔的；使人不得安宁的v.不断地挑剔或批评（某人）( nag的现在分词 )；不断地烦扰或伤害（某人）；无休止地抱怨；不断指责 | |
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297
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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298
sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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299
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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300
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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301
fulfills
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| v.履行（诺言等）( fulfill的第三人称单数 )；执行（命令等）；达到（目的）；使结束 | |
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302
justify
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| vt.证明…正当(或有理)，为…辩护 | |
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303
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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304
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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305
slaying
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| 杀戮。 | |
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306
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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307
outrages
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| 引起…的义愤，激怒( outrage的第三人称单数 ) | |
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308
condemnation
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| n.谴责; 定罪 | |
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309
superfluous
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| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
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310
odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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311
shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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312
verbosity
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| n.冗长，赘言 | |
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313
scribbled
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| v.潦草的书写( scribble的过去式和过去分词 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
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314
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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315
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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