Castle To Castle Part 8

Noises nearby . . . the dogs too . . . arrgh! arrgh! arrgh! arrgh! . . . it's an obsession as you get older . . . to be left alone, absolutely alone! . . . Christ! . . . Lili's talking to somebody . . . the door is closed but I can hear . . . I listen . . . something about Madame Nicois . . . a neighbor woman . . . Madame Nicois seems to be cold . . . she's been complaining . . . "What can I do?" the neighbor woman asks . . . I sing out: . . . it's an obsession as you get older . . . to be left alone, absolutely alone! . . . Christ! . . . Lili's talking to somebody . . . the door is closed but I can hear . . . I listen . . . something about Madame Nicois . . . a neighbor woman . . . Madame Nicois seems to be cold . . . she's been complaining . . . "What can I do?" the neighbor woman asks . . . I sing out: "An ambulance! Versailles! the hospital! Telephone, Lili! Telephone! . . ."

The door opens . . . Lili and the neighbor woman come in . . . which is exactly what I didn't want . . . I bury myself under the blankets . . . under the mountain of overcoats . . . I don't remember how many overcoats! I'm poor in everything, but Christ! not in overcoats! That's what people who see our misery send us . . . they keep sending them . . . overcoats! they always have too many . . . oh, not overcoats you could wear, absolutely threadbare! you can't go out in them, but in bed with a fever you're very glad to have them! really not too many . . . low-cost central heating . . . we have somuch trouble with ours that runs on gas . . . it ruins us! . . .

Lili and the neighbor woman leave . . . I didn't say anything . . . not a word . . . let them telephone . . . Versailles . . . the ambulance . . . no, I won't bother Tailhefer . . . she won't be badly off in Versailles, the hospital is very well heated . . . she'll be better off than at home . . . and maybe . . . I think it over . . . after my telling her about ghosts, about those bozos from La Publique La Publique, she didn't want to stay there any more . . . you're always on tenterhooks with your patients . . . did you say too much? or not enough?

I'm always beating my brains out, thinking up things to say . . . for my patients . . . for Achille! . . . 900 . . . 1,000 pages . . . or for Gertrut . . . one's as big a crook as the other . . . I'd like to see them skin each other alive right before my eyes! knife each other in all directions! chop each other into skunk stew! . . . but h.e.l.l's fire! . . . cowardly cutthroats don't cut! . . . Loukoum less than anybody! that empty v.a.g.i.n.a! . . . in all this world and the next you won't find a more voracious gang of sharks! . . . false teeth . . . nylon fins! . . . and limousines as big as a house . . . all glutted on scribblers' blood! the quarts they've pumped out of me! I know what I'm saying!

Or don't I? h.e.l.l! . . .

This thing with the neighbor woman upset me . . . worse than La Publique La Publique . . . the ambulance . . . I've lost you again . . . you and the thread! Let's see now . . . we were in Siegmaringen . . . one memory . . . another . . . I've got it! . . . another memory cropping up . . . of Le Havre . . . Le Havre . . . I've got it! . . . I was subst.i.tuting for a colleague, Malouvier . . . yes, yes, that's it . . . a patient in Montivilliers on the National Highway . . . I can still see that patient . . . and his cancer of the r.e.c.t.u.m . . . I was still mighty active, ardent, devoted . . . at that time . . . I ran myself ragged . . . I answered every call! . . . this cancer patient, two three times a day! . . . morphine and dressing . . . I was a whole clinic all by myself . . . but they took him away from me . . . not because I wasn't taking good care of him . . . no . . . because he was going mad . . . the family couldn'tcontrol him, he was bashing into everything . . . the cupboard . . . the window . . . breaking everything . . . said I was preventing him from going to work . . . accusing me! his conscience was killing him . . . because he knew it was all over! that he'd never go to the factory again! . . . the cops would come for him, they were already there! he saw them coming in the window! to take him to prison! for not working! he hadn't stopped in sixty years! never! never missed a day at the floating docks in Honfleur! not one day! "Help! help!" I did my best . . . my soothing words and my 100 milligrams of morphine . . . he'd never missed a day! . . . they'd had to take him away . . . cancer isn't the whole story . . . the big thing is conscience about your work! well, that is, not for people like Brottin . . . or Gertrut . . . who wait . . . just wait . . . for the work to pour in! . . . I'm here to prove it . . . like Paraz . . . the sick worker . . . they wait for the work to come in! . . . fever or no fever! . . . "How you coming, clown?. . . how many pages?" . . . the ambulance . . . I've lost you again . . . you and the thread! Let's see now . . . we were in Siegmaringen . . . one memory . . . another . . . I've got it! . . . another memory cropping up . . . of Le Havre . . . Le Havre . . . I've got it! . . . I was subst.i.tuting for a colleague, Malouvier . . . yes, yes, that's it . . . a patient in Montivilliers on the National Highway . . . I can still see that patient . . . and his cancer of the r.e.c.t.u.m . . . I was still mighty active, ardent, devoted . . . at that time . . . I ran myself ragged . . . I answered every call! . . . this cancer patient, two three times a day! . . . morphine and dressing . . . I was a whole clinic all by myself . . . but they took him away from me . . . not because I wasn't taking good care of him . . . no . . . because he was going mad . . . the family couldn'tcontrol him, he was bashing into everything . . . the cupboard . . . the window . . . breaking everything . . . said I was preventing him from going to work . . . accusing me! his conscience was killing him . . . because he knew it was all over! that he'd never go to the factory again! . . . the cops would come for him, they were already there! he saw them coming in the window! to take him to prison! for not working! he hadn't stopped in sixty years! never! never missed a day at the floating docks in Honfleur! not one day! "Help! help!" I did my best . . . my soothing words and my 100 milligrams of morphine . . . he'd never missed a day! . . . they'd had to take him away . . . cancer isn't the whole story . . . the big thing is conscience about your work! well, that is, not for people like Brottin . . . or Gertrut . . . who wait . . . just wait . . . for the work to pour in! . . . I'm here to prove it . . . like Paraz . . . the sick worker . . . they wait for the work to come in! . . . fever or no fever! . . . "How you coming, clown?. . . how many pages?"

Raumnitz was always there about five o'clock . . . you could almost count on it . . . from five to seven . . . then he went out to the Castle . . . or some place else . . . this wasn't his only headquarters . . . he saw people all over. . . every hour of the day and night . . . ten or twelve different places . . . at the Lowen Lowen it was from five to seven . . . room 26, directly over ours . . . all cops are like that, they've got dozens of offices, places to see people . . . same with politicians . . . and amba.s.sadors . . . that's why you always get a funny feeling in certain streets of any capital . . . Mayfair, Monceau, Riverside . . . full of shady houses and people . . . no rundown furnished houses and apartments . . . even there in Siegmaringen, Raumnitz's secret quarters, take it from me! nothing like our dive! I knew his wing of the Castle, two floors! all full of flowers . . . azaleas, hydrangeas, narcissus . . . and those roses! . . . I'll bet you the Kremlin is full of roses in January . . . there in the Castle, with a whole wing to himself, two floors, Raumnitz had an army of flunkeys, chambermaids, cooks and laundresses, maybe he was even better off than Petain! . . . more luxurious! . . . and he had other places in town . . . not only for himself . . . for his wife, his daughter and his mastiffs . . . you wouldn't find better in East End or Long Beach . . . if you're looking for magic, go ask the police . . . if they say no, they're lying, they've got plenty . . . if tomorrow Paris is ground to powder by the G, Z . . . or Y-bomb . . . there'll still be plenty of those neat little lovenests three hundred feet underground, with every comfort, bidet, azaleas, wine cellars, cigars this big, foam-rubber sofas, belonging to the police . . . this police and that police . . . and the police will always be around . . . subject of food supply, youshould have seen those stocks of food cards between the flower pots . . . enough to feed all Siegmaringen! . . . Raumnitz, the missus, and their daughter . . . had too much of everything . . . but they never offered us one slice of bread! one crust! one ticket! . . . it was a point of honor with them . . . for us, nothing! it was from five to seven . . . room 26, directly over ours . . . all cops are like that, they've got dozens of offices, places to see people . . . same with politicians . . . and amba.s.sadors . . . that's why you always get a funny feeling in certain streets of any capital . . . Mayfair, Monceau, Riverside . . . full of shady houses and people . . . no rundown furnished houses and apartments . . . even there in Siegmaringen, Raumnitz's secret quarters, take it from me! nothing like our dive! I knew his wing of the Castle, two floors! all full of flowers . . . azaleas, hydrangeas, narcissus . . . and those roses! . . . I'll bet you the Kremlin is full of roses in January . . . there in the Castle, with a whole wing to himself, two floors, Raumnitz had an army of flunkeys, chambermaids, cooks and laundresses, maybe he was even better off than Petain! . . . more luxurious! . . . and he had other places in town . . . not only for himself . . . for his wife, his daughter and his mastiffs . . . you wouldn't find better in East End or Long Beach . . . if you're looking for magic, go ask the police . . . if they say no, they're lying, they've got plenty . . . if tomorrow Paris is ground to powder by the G, Z . . . or Y-bomb . . . there'll still be plenty of those neat little lovenests three hundred feet underground, with every comfort, bidet, azaleas, wine cellars, cigars this big, foam-rubber sofas, belonging to the police . . . this police and that police . . . and the police will always be around . . . subject of food supply, youshould have seen those stocks of food cards between the flower pots . . . enough to feed all Siegmaringen! . . . Raumnitz, the missus, and their daughter . . . had too much of everything . . . but they never offered us one slice of bread! one crust! one ticket! . . . it was a point of honor with them . . . for us, nothing!

He didn't despise my medical ability, I treated him, bad case of aort.i.tis . . . my fees? double zero! . . . his point of honor! right now, coming back from Brinon's, I wanted him to send some of his cops to throw out the lunatic and the nurse . . . for a starter!

I say to Lili: come! . . . first we've got to get through the landing! . . . even more people than before! . . . people from the Baren Baren, even noisier . . . young people, the terror of Frucht, who expected them to demolish his hotel, his restaurant, his c.r.a.pper . . . much wilder than our crowd at the Lowen Lowen . . . first the . . . first the Stam Stam down below, the beer . . . and whish, upstairs to p.i.s.s, and diarrhea! smash the door and the bolts, and pour into the toilet . . . six or ten at a time . . . smash the bowl . . . the chain! take away the seat! . . . victory! . . . victory! by main force! another p.i.s.s-together in the vestibule, on the stairs! . . . the deluge! . . . but hold your hats! just then . . . in the middle of the p.i.s.s . . . two German girls pee! . . . and go into position! . . . frantic! . . . sniffing! their skirts up like this! . . . and let her go! and all the young folks around them! stamping! mad with joy! clapping! . . . egging them on! . . . and p.i.s.sing in unison! . . . two really good-looking girls . . . in a clinch . . . refugees from Dresden . . . the "city of artists" . . . all the actresses came from Dresden . . . the haven . . . the refuge of the arts! . . . these two, real swingers . . . were supposedly opera singers . . . outside the c.r.a.pper and in front of Frucht and in front of everybody! . . . and the mob on the landing shouting hurrah! . . . "hurrah, Fraulein!" A brunette and a redhead . . . an orgy, really not the place for it . . . clinching right in the middle of the pond . . . I could see there wasn't a chance of opening the door . . . our door, No. 11 . . . I don't know how many people there were around mybed . . . around the nut with his patient under him . . . the rest of them were just as batty . . . egging him on! . . . "Atta boy! Atta boy! cut his ear off!" . . . down below, the beer . . . and whish, upstairs to p.i.s.s, and diarrhea! smash the door and the bolts, and pour into the toilet . . . six or ten at a time . . . smash the bowl . . . the chain! take away the seat! . . . victory! . . . victory! by main force! another p.i.s.s-together in the vestibule, on the stairs! . . . the deluge! . . . but hold your hats! just then . . . in the middle of the p.i.s.s . . . two German girls pee! . . . and go into position! . . . frantic! . . . sniffing! their skirts up like this! . . . and let her go! and all the young folks around them! stamping! mad with joy! clapping! . . . egging them on! . . . and p.i.s.sing in unison! . . . two really good-looking girls . . . in a clinch . . . refugees from Dresden . . . the "city of artists" . . . all the actresses came from Dresden . . . the haven . . . the refuge of the arts! . . . these two, real swingers . . . were supposedly opera singers . . . outside the c.r.a.pper and in front of Frucht and in front of everybody! . . . and the mob on the landing shouting hurrah! . . . "hurrah, Fraulein!" A brunette and a redhead . . . an orgy, really not the place for it . . . clinching right in the middle of the pond . . . I could see there wasn't a chance of opening the door . . . our door, No. 11 . . . I don't know how many people there were around mybed . . . around the nut with his patient under him . . . the rest of them were just as batty . . . egging him on! . . . "Atta boy! Atta boy! cut his ear off!" . . .

My presence of mind is famous! I didn't waste time . . . "Come, Lili, come!"

And don't forget that in the sky, high up in the clouds and lower down over the rooftops, the merry-go-round was still going on . . . G.o.d's perpetual thunder, Fortresses pa.s.sing over! . . . London . . . Augsburg . . . Munich . . . grazing our windows with their wing tips . . . hurricanes of motors . . . deafening! you couldn't hear a thing! . . . not even the howling in the corridor! . . .

They were packed in all right, the whole Baren Baren yelling for the girls to skin each other alive . . . and in our joint for the surgeon to cut the guy's ear off! . . . yelling for the girls to skin each other alive . . . and in our joint for the surgeon to cut the guy's ear off! . . .

You can imagine with that bedlam the trouble we had . . . Lili and I . . getting to the next floor! we shove! we push through! Christ! we made it! . . . the stairs . . . No. 28! I knock! Ah, it's Aisha! Frau Aisha von Raumnitz . . . she opens . . . they're married, really married . . . I'll explain . . . she opens . . . Aisha Raumnitz doesn't speak any more German than Lili . . . three words . . . she was brought up in Beirut . . . she's from around there, I'll tell you about it . . . right now I want to see her husband . . . I'm in luck, he's there . . . he's lying down in his dressing gown . . .

"Well, Doctor? Well?"

"Brinon has sent me to ask you . . ."

"I know . . . I know . . ." he cuts me short . . . "you've got a lunatic in your place . . . and the whole corridor full of lunatics! . . . Aisha! . . . Aisha! . . . You attend to this!"

No hesitation . . . He hands her a bundle of keys . . .

"Take the dogs!"

The two mastiffs! . . . he beckons to them . . . one leap and they're at his wife's feet . . . well, at her boots! . . . she's wearing boots . . . red leather . . . makes you think of an Oriental horsewoman, the way she keeps tapping on her boots . . . and an enormous yellow whip . . .

"Let's go, Doctor!" . . .

I've only got to follow her . . . with her I know that everything will be all right . . . the mastiffs know, too . . . they start growling and show their fangs . . . enormous! . . . they keep growling . . . they don't bite . . . they follow at Madame's heels . , . they're ready to rip anybody she says apart . . . that's all! . . . admirably trained animals . . . and powerful Buffaloes! . . . muzzles, chests, haunches! the force of the impact and you're out flat! . . . before you can open your mouth! . . . Not to mention their fangs . . . you and your carotids, one mouthful! . . . Aisha and her mastiffs, people move aside! . . . Real respect! . . . no questions . . . Aisha doesn't say anything either . . . she moves rather languidly . . . swaying at the hips . . . not fast . . . the stinkers all pull their pants up . . . the loudmouth p.i.s.sers . . . they all flow down toward the street . . . the brunette and the redhead too, they pull themselves together . . . and step on it . . . o.r.g.a.s.m or no o.r.g.a.s.m! . . . the nymphos break . . . they stop yelling! . . . n.o.body is yelling about anything anymore . . . not even the torture of needing to s.h.i.t . . . In my room, No. 11, the second they catch sight of Aisha, panic . . . frenzy! they knock us over to get out quicker! and they climb over each other to get out first! . . . ah, the surgeon and the nurse and the garage man and his ear! . . . the way they bounced off my bed! straightening, running! h.e.l.l bent! . . . now it's the surgeon that's yelling! he starts in! The one who was under him, the refugee from Strasbourg, isn't yelling any more . . . the nurse takes away the boxes of cotton . . . they all try to get through at once! oh, but that won't do . . . Aisha has a good idea! . . . she's languid but precise! "Stop! stop!" she says to the three of them . . . they should stay right where they are! nut, nurse, and victim! all three of them! right there! nose to the wall! . . . she shows them! on their feet, flat against the wall! . . . the mastiffs growl at their a.s.ses . . . those fangs, I've told you . . . "And don't move" . . . they don't move . . . the whole landing is clear and the long corridor and my room . . . not a soul . . . vacuum! . . . ah, the p.i.s.sers who couldn't hold it in! and the two opera singers! . . . all those lunatics! abracadabra! a charm! . . . but that's notall! Aisha had her idea . . . Komm! Komm! suddenly she's talking to them in German . . . to the three with their nose to the wall . . . they should come and follow her! . . . tag along! I want to see . . . Way at the other end of the lobby a little pa.s.sage and then two steps . . . No. 36! . . . the door to 36 . . . suddenly she's talking to them in German . . . to the three with their nose to the wall . . . they should come and follow her! . . . tag along! I want to see . . . Way at the other end of the lobby a little pa.s.sage and then two steps . . . No. 36! . . . the door to 36 . . . creak! creak! creak! creak! . . . she opens . . . she motions to the nut to go in first, then the nurse, then the man from Strasbourg . . . they hesitate . . . ah! Aisha doesn't care for hesitation . . . It's go . . . let's go . . .!" They start rolling their eyes! . . . especially the garage man! . . . they're wondering whether to go in . . . they look at the dogs . . . they climb the two steps . . . Room 36 . . . I knew that room . . . well, I knew it a little . . . I'd gone there twice for Raumnitz, to see two fugitives who'd been brought back from G.o.d knows where . . . two old men . . . it was the only solid room in the whole . . . she opens . . . she motions to the nut to go in first, then the nurse, then the man from Strasbourg . . . they hesitate . . . ah! Aisha doesn't care for hesitation . . . It's go . . . let's go . . .!" They start rolling their eyes! . . . especially the garage man! . . . they're wondering whether to go in . . . they look at the dogs . . . they climb the two steps . . . Room 36 . . . I knew that room . . . well, I knew it a little . . . I'd gone there twice for Raumnitz, to see two fugitives who'd been brought back from G.o.d knows where . . . two old men . . . it was the only solid room in the whole Lowen Lowen . . . fortified . . . concrete walls, iron door, barred windows . . . and those bars weren't thin! I know my super-prisons . . . all the other rooms in the . . . fortified . . . concrete walls, iron door, barred windows . . . and those bars weren't thin! I know my super-prisons . . . all the other rooms in the Lowen Lowen sort of swayed and wobbled, cracks, loose bricks . . . all falling apart! plaster, ceiling, beds, everything! There wasn't a single bed that had all four legs . . . three at the most! a lot of them only one! you can imagine, the vibration of the planes! Beyond repair! Herr Frucht had given up! and the tenants contributed to the wreckage . . . that was their only way of avenging themselves on the Boches, on Frucht, on the planes, and being there . . . the whole business! two, three, four of them would sit down in a chair . . . smash it good and proper . . . ten or fifteen on the bed. What a mess! especially the soldiers in transit, the reinforcements on their way to the Rhine front . . . those sort of swayed and wobbled, cracks, loose bricks . . . all falling apart! plaster, ceiling, beds, everything! There wasn't a single bed that had all four legs . . . three at the most! a lot of them only one! you can imagine, the vibration of the planes! Beyond repair! Herr Frucht had given up! and the tenants contributed to the wreckage . . . that was their only way of avenging themselves on the Boches, on Frucht, on the planes, and being there . . . the whole business! two, three, four of them would sit down in a chair . . . smash it good and proper . . . ten or fifteen on the bed. What a mess! especially the soldiers in transit, the reinforcements on their way to the Rhine front . . . those Landsturm Landsturm boys . . . Christ! the world's champion looters! . . . but there was nothing left to loot! . . . everything was gone or pulverized! like my place on the rue Girardon! the exciting thing about pa.s.sing through is the stealing! . . . there was nothing removable left . . . the whole boys . . . Christ! the world's champion looters! . . . but there was nothing left to loot! . . . everything was gone or pulverized! like my place on the rue Girardon! the exciting thing about pa.s.sing through is the stealing! . . . there was nothing removable left . . . the whole Lowen Lowen was reeling under the London-Munich Armadas . . . the roaring . . . a thousand motors . . . tiles flying through the air . . . the whole street was full of the pieces . . . the ceilings, you can imagine! . . . oh, but not the ceilings of Room 36! theonly one in the was reeling under the London-Munich Armadas . . . the roaring . . . a thousand motors . . . tiles flying through the air . . . the whole street was full of the pieces . . . the ceilings, you can imagine! . . . oh, but not the ceilings of Room 36! theonly one in the Lowen Lowen that could take it! . . . I'd noticed this cell . . . I've told you . . . absolutely perfect condition! . . . I wasn't going to ask questions . . . what had become of the two old men? or what they were going to do with these three? the nut, the nurse, and the garage man . . . they were "fugitives" too . . . so were we, I suppose . . . anyway Aisha was in charge of Room 36, opening, stowing, and closing . . . what went on in there? . . . I couldn't ask Raumnitz . . . rumors . . . it seems they shipped people out at night . . . a truck came by on certain nights . . . so they said . . . I never saw any truck, and I went out pretty often at all hours . . . one thing was sure: for whole weeks No. 36 was empty . . . and then all of a sudden jampacked . . . the legend, the rumor was that n.o.body was ever supposed to see that truck . . . that they chained them and piled them in . . . all these so-called fugitives . . . and hauled them away to the East . . . further than Posen . . . supposedly to some camp . . . I couldn't very well ask Raumnitz what he sent them to Posen for . . . or Aisha . . . anyway one sure thing, she'd cleared out our joint in two seconds flat! . . . pure panic! . . . Aisha had plenty of authority! with her mastiffs! and her whip! . . . that could take it! . . . I'd noticed this cell . . . I've told you . . . absolutely perfect condition! . . . I wasn't going to ask questions . . . what had become of the two old men? or what they were going to do with these three? the nut, the nurse, and the garage man . . . they were "fugitives" too . . . so were we, I suppose . . . anyway Aisha was in charge of Room 36, opening, stowing, and closing . . . what went on in there? . . . I couldn't ask Raumnitz . . . rumors . . . it seems they shipped people out at night . . . a truck came by on certain nights . . . so they said . . . I never saw any truck, and I went out pretty often at all hours . . . one thing was sure: for whole weeks No. 36 was empty . . . and then all of a sudden jampacked . . . the legend, the rumor was that n.o.body was ever supposed to see that truck . . . that they chained them and piled them in . . . all these so-called fugitives . . . and hauled them away to the East . . . further than Posen . . . supposedly to some camp . . . I couldn't very well ask Raumnitz what he sent them to Posen for . . . or Aisha . . . anyway one sure thing, she'd cleared out our joint in two seconds flat! . . . pure panic! . . . Aisha had plenty of authority! with her mastiffs! and her whip! . . .

At least I had no more nuts on my bed! . . . oh, the patients would come back . . . they'd gone, but they'd be back . . . of course I'd have to clean up . . . or try to! . . .

I wanted Madame Raumnitz to take a look . . . to see what I was up against . . .

"Look, Madame Raumnitz!"

There's a war going on, Doctor."

We talk awhile . . . she liked to talk to us . . . they'd lived in France, in Vincennes . . . we talk about Vincennes . . . Lake Daumesnil . . . Saint-Fargeau . . . the Metro . . .

I thought the patients would come back . . . but they didn't . . . or the toilet enthusiasts . . . I guess they all hightailed it to the cellars, the caves . . . their favorite caves . . . or under the Castle? . . . they were scared s.h.i.tless! . . . the R.A.F. was nothing compared to Aisha and Room 36! . . . I know . . . Lili and Aisha are there on the landing, talking it over . . . this, that, and the other thing . . . fine! But I've got to go see Luther . . . Kurt Luther, the Kraut Army doctor . . . a conference! it was time! . . . and after Luther the Milice Milice . . . I've got three, four bed patients, too . . . flu . . . Daman is in Ulm, I won't see him . . . I'll see his son and Bout de l'An . . . it's not so far, but all the same a good half hour from door to door . . . in fits and starts! . . . I've told you . . . it wasn't just the Armada . . . they're way up in the sky . . . it's the low-flying Marauders . . . You've seen them, I've told you about the outing, the way they'd framed us in bullets all along the Danube . . . from Luther's to the . . . I've got three, four bed patients, too . . . flu . . . Daman is in Ulm, I won't see him . . . I'll see his son and Bout de l'An . . . it's not so far, but all the same a good half hour from door to door . . . in fits and starts! . . . I've told you . . . it wasn't just the Armada . . . they're way up in the sky . . . it's the low-flying Marauders . . . You've seen them, I've told you about the outing, the way they'd framed us in bullets all along the Danube . . . from Luther's to the Milice Milice was along the Danube too . . . the was along the Danube too . . . the Milice Milice were in barracks, great big Adrians with triple-decker bunks . . . the military style since 1918 . . . but the Villa Luther, where I went for the conference, was pretty-pretty . . . William II baroque . . . were in barracks, great big Adrians with triple-decker bunks . . . the military style since 1918 . . . but the Villa Luther, where I went for the conference, was pretty-pretty . . . William II baroque . . .

About that outing, while I'm on the subject . . . if they didn't hit Petain or his string of ministers, it's definitely because they didn't want to! nothing to it! . . . not a Kraut plane in the air! . . . never! . . . not a single machine gun on the ground! no defenses, period! A pushover for those Pirates of the Air! to pepper any man, cow, dog, cat, at 300 m.p.h. aim! fire! good-bye! . . . automatic! . . . a Mosquito! a Marauder! . . . they never stopped, they were always there on top of us,looping the loop! never a lull! . . . they came in relays . . . a burst! another burst! ricochets! . . . bzing! bzing! . . . the idea was to "keep 'em off the roads" . . . take Doriot, one look at his car, it was on show outside the . . . the idea was to "keep 'em off the roads" . . . take Doriot, one look at his car, it was on show outside the Prinzenbau Prinzenbau (our town hall) for more than a week while the investigation was going on . . . chiseled from end to end, riddled small, like lace! . . . they'd caught him on the road, him, his bodyguards, stenographers, and photographers . . . (our town hall) for more than a week while the investigation was going on . . . chiseled from end to end, riddled small, like lace! . . . they'd caught him on the road, him, his bodyguards, stenographers, and photographers . . . ack-ack-ack! ack-ack-ack! on their way from Constance to a meeting of Party leaders on the other side of the Pzimflingen . . . oh, a very secret meeting . . . but not so secret that they hadn't picked him up . . . and shot him to pieces! . . . if they didn't come down on Petain's outing, Petain and his crowd, it's because they had different orders . . . the order was to get Doriot . . . no question! . . . I doubt if they had any orders about me, nothing special . . . I was "routine" . . . "keep 'em off the roads!" . . . the Boches and the English were the same! . . . "keep em off the roads!" Anything that moves: on their way from Constance to a meeting of Party leaders on the other side of the Pzimflingen . . . oh, a very secret meeting . . . but not so secret that they hadn't picked him up . . . and shot him to pieces! . . . if they didn't come down on Petain's outing, Petain and his crowd, it's because they had different orders . . . the order was to get Doriot . . . no question! . . . I doubt if they had any orders about me, nothing special . . . I was "routine" . . . "keep 'em off the roads!" . . . the Boches and the English were the same! . . . "keep em off the roads!" Anything that moves: ping! ping! . . . in a word, we weren't supposed to get off alive! the shuppos on the ground, the R.A.F. Marauders up top . . . fire! at us! But in spite of the shuppos whistling and yelling at her: . . . in a word, we weren't supposed to get off alive! the shuppos on the ground, the R.A.F. Marauders up top . . . fire! at us! But in spite of the shuppos whistling and yelling at her: Komm! Komm! Komm! Komm! and the ricochets from the sky, Lili always came out to join me . . . the danger appealed to her, I've got to admit . . . it didn't appeal to me . . . when I left the Lowen, I told her: "Stay here, Lili! Don't move! Tell the other patients I'll be right back! . . . stay with Madame Raumnitz . . . don't stay alone!" and the ricochets from the sky, Lili always came out to join me . . . the danger appealed to her, I've got to admit . . . it didn't appeal to me . . . when I left the Lowen, I told her: "Stay here, Lili! Don't move! Tell the other patients I'll be right back! . . . stay with Madame Raumnitz . . . don't stay alone!"

I, ordinarily such a boor, was all gallantry . . .

"Madame Raumnitz, won't you please sit down? . . . Stay with Lili just a little while? I'm going to the Milice Milice . . ." . . ."

Madame Raumnitz had her troubles, too . . .

"Yes, Doctor, yes, I'll stay . . . but if you see Hilda, please tell her to come home . . . quickly! . . . I've been waiting for her since last night . . ."

"Yes, Madame Raumnitz, certainly! Count on me!"

I had a good idea where Hilda von Raumnitz would be . . . and two, three little friends . . . the nymphettes of Siegmaringen . . . well-bred, well-fed girls of excellent military or diplomatic family . . . who had never wanted for anything . . .naturally at that age, in that cold bracing air, their lollypops itched . . . that's the desperate age . . . from fourteen to seventeen . . . and these deluxe little dolls . . . sheltered and pampered . . . weren't the only ones . . . it was the same with the poor devils! . . . different pretexts, homesickness, the constant danger, the sleepless nights, the rutting males! . . . poor devils themselves . . . and ragged! and l.u.s.tful! and so pa.s.sionate! every clump of bushes! every street corner! fourteen to seventeen . . . the desperate age, especially for girls! . . . but the girls in this very particular place . . . homesickness, the constant danger, the rutting men on every sidewalk . . . weren't the only ones . . . same thing on the rue Bergere or the place Blanche! . . . for a cigarette . . . for two cents worth of blah blah . . . Heartbreak, idleness, and s.e.x go together . . . and not only the kids . . . grown women and grandmothers! naturally they're most pa.s.sionate . . . fire in their t.w.a.ts . . . at times when the page is turning . . . when History brings all the nuts together, opens its Epic Dance Halls! hats and heads in the whirlwind! panties overboard! when the Fifis lead their oxen to slaughter! and Corpechot is Master of the Danube! I knew I'd find Hilda and her crowd at the station . . . sure thing! teenage spylets, soldiers, ministers' daughters, and gatekeepers all in a heap . . . in the waiting rooms! the attraction of fresh meat and troop trains, plus the piano and the field kitchens, you can imagine the orgies! something a little hotter than the poor garrulous little jerkoffs at the Seventeen Magots and Neuilly! . . . hunger and phosphorus make people rut and sperm and surrender without looking! pure happiness! no more hunger, cancer or clap! . . . the station packed with eternity! . . . the planes crisscrossing overhead! . . . dropping thunder! and the whole waiting room and the buffet exchanging lice, scabies, syphilis, and love! females, pigtails, expectant mothers of all ages, grandmothers, soldiers! every army and every branch of service, from the fifty trains in the shunting station . . . the whole buffet singing in chorus! Marleen! lal la! G-sharp! Marleen! lal la! G-sharp!. . . in three or four voices! pa.s.sionately! and enlaced! . . . lying in the chairs! . . . three on the pianist's lap! three of my pregnant women! . . . andnaturally, to top it off, plenty of bread! Army bread! and full mess kits! without tickets! you can imagine that the girls weren't particular! . . . four field kitchens full of kettles between trains . . . help yourself on the platforms! the Siegmar switching yards, munitions trains, really the most explosive spot in all South Wurttemberg . . . Freiburg-Italy . . . three switches and all these trains! gasoline, cartridges, bombs! . . . enough to blow the whole countryside as far as Ulm . . . sky-high . . . blow the planes out of the sky . . . Well, you can see I had my work cut out for me, fighting for Hilda's virtue, keep her from getting laid under a train . . . "Love is a gypsy child! "Love is a gypsy child! . . ." Okay . . . so you're sorry for me! . . . nevertheless, duty comes first . . . first Luther! . . . three, four consultants . . . Boche . . . French . . . and then straight to the . . ." Okay . . . so you're sorry for me! . . . nevertheless, duty comes first . . . first Luther! . . . three, four consultants . . . Boche . . . French . . . and then straight to the Milice Milice . . . right next door . . . There I see two, three bed patients . . . two prescriptions and some urine a.n.a.lyses . . . Don't ask me if I knew the pharmacist . . . right next door . . . There I see two, three bed patients . . . two prescriptions and some urine a.n.a.lyses . . . Don't ask me if I knew the pharmacist Hofapotek Hofapotek Hans Richter! . . . if I didn't go for the medicines and the results of the urine a.n.a.lyses myself, I could wait all year! . . . he sabotages me! . . . maybe he's anti-Hitler . . . he's certainly anti-French . . . And as usual I'm perfectly "regular" . . . I only prescribe absolutely reliable medicines that have been in the Codex for at least fifty years . . . here it's the Pharmacopia of the Hans Richter! . . . if I didn't go for the medicines and the results of the urine a.n.a.lyses myself, I could wait all year! . . . he sabotages me! . . . maybe he's anti-Hitler . . . he's certainly anti-French . . . And as usual I'm perfectly "regular" . . . I only prescribe absolutely reliable medicines that have been in the Codex for at least fifty years . . . here it's the Pharmacopia of the Reichsgesundheitsamt Reichsgesundheitsamt . . . thirty-two prescriptions . . . oh, an excellent selection, quite sufficient! . . . thirty-two prescriptions . . . oh, an excellent selection, quite sufficient! Reichsprecept! Reichsprecept! . . . I'll even say, I make no bones, that we ought to take a cue in our wasteful! pretentious! idiotic France! . . . Conti, the minister of public health who wrote that Reichsprecept, was convicted in Nuremberg of genocide . . . witnessed, authenticated . . . a kind of Truman . . . and hanged! (not Truman) . . . all the same his Reichsprecept deserves to survive him . . . at the lowest figure, rock-bottom minimum, we (eternal France) would save three hundred billion a year . . . and our patients would be a good deal better off! less hysterical, egotistical, and poisoned! . . . I know what I'm talking about . . . . . . I'll even say, I make no bones, that we ought to take a cue in our wasteful! pretentious! idiotic France! . . . Conti, the minister of public health who wrote that Reichsprecept, was convicted in Nuremberg of genocide . . . witnessed, authenticated . . . a kind of Truman . . . and hanged! (not Truman) . . . all the same his Reichsprecept deserves to survive him . . . at the lowest figure, rock-bottom minimum, we (eternal France) would save three hundred billion a year . . . and our patients would be a good deal better off! less hysterical, egotistical, and poisoned! . . . I know what I'm talking about . . .

That's all very well! . . . but the Milice Milice? . . . the barracks come after the Danube dike . . . the enormous embankmentof stones, bricks, and trees that protects the road . . . I'll show you the Milice Milice, three big Adrian barracks . . . and a little shack, the guardhouse! . . . the most imposing thing of all is the enormous tricolor flag at the top of its pole! . . . the Milice Milice covered itself with glory on its retreat to Siegmaringen, through five or six armies of partisans . . . the retreat from Berg-op-Zoom to Biarritz wasn't the only one! . . . gready overestimated! France has known plenty of retreats! every type and style! . . . in less than twenty years! covered itself with glory on its retreat to Siegmaringen, through five or six armies of partisans . . . the retreat from Berg-op-Zoom to Biarritz wasn't the only one! . . . gready overestimated! France has known plenty of retreats! every type and style! . . . in less than twenty years!

All right, I admit . . . my prescriptions may have been useless . . . even the drugs from the Reichsprecept . . . probably . . . Apotek Apotek Richter was out of everything! Not to mention his ill-will . . . As far as he was concerned the whole lot of us, Richter was out of everything! Not to mention his ill-will . . . As far as he was concerned the whole lot of us, Miliciens Miliciens, bigshots from the Castle, embroidered generals, "collabos" in rags, spying housemaids, and haughty ministresses, plus the sick and dying at the Fidelis Fidelis, were abject filth . . . fit for the garbage pail! that was definitely Hans Bichter's opinion! . . . same as the heroes of London, Brazzaville, and Montmartre! "Hang the whole shooting match! . . ." When I absolutely wanted him to fill a prescription, I went there in person and made him find the stuff! . . . I didn't waste time . . . "fur den Sturmfuhrer von Raumnitz!" "fur den Sturmfuhrer von Raumnitz!" . . . no nonsense! he found it! . . . I took it . . . he believed me . . . or maybe he didn't . . . but he was afraid to take the chance . . . every time the same racket: . . . no nonsense! he found it! . . . I took it . . . he believed me . . . or maybe he didn't . . . but he was afraid to take the chance . . . every time the same racket: fur den Sturmfuhrer! fur den Sturmfuhrer! . . . straight to the solar plexus! . . . unfortunately, solar plexus or not, no morphine! or camphorated oil! and those were my princ.i.p.al weapons! . . . he really had nothing left! . . . he wasn't lying, I knew it because the young ladies told me . . . his a.s.sistants . . . young ladies are always glad to betray . . . all young ladies . . . for a little friendliness . . . take it from me . . . . . . straight to the solar plexus! . . . unfortunately, solar plexus or not, no morphine! or camphorated oil! and those were my princ.i.p.al weapons! . . . he really had nothing left! . . . he wasn't lying, I knew it because the young ladies told me . . . his a.s.sistants . . . young ladies are always glad to betray . . . all young ladies . . . for a little friendliness . . . take it from me . . . marivaudage marivaudage is our amiable secret weapon! . . . America, Asia, Central Europe never had their Marivaux . . . look how heavy, how elephantine they are! those loutish manners! anyway, I knew through the young ladies and Marivaux that Richter was really out of morphine . . . I managed to get some anyway! responsible and devoted as I am! heart of gold! much thanks it got me! . . . morphine! . . . morphine!. . . my head on the block! the worst stratagems! for the exercise of my art and the last resource of the dying! morphine! . . . morphine! . . . oh, not easily, I a.s.sure you! . . . through runners! . . . gangsters, the worst kind of pirates . . . between the Kraut and the Helvetian police! I'll tell you about them . . . and out of my own pocket . . . no two ways about it . . . I ruined myself in Germany on Swiss medicines alone . . . naturally I can't expect anything from de Gaulle, some indemnity or diploma, or from Monsieur Mollet . . . they agree with Herr Richter that it would have been a blessing if the Bodies had hanged me . . . Achille has the same idea! . . . his motive is my magnificent works . . . the way they'll is our amiable secret weapon! . . . America, Asia, Central Europe never had their Marivaux . . . look how heavy, how elephantine they are! those loutish manners! anyway, I knew through the young ladies and Marivaux that Richter was really out of morphine . . . I managed to get some anyway! responsible and devoted as I am! heart of gold! much thanks it got me! . . . morphine! . . . morphine!. . . my head on the block! the worst stratagems! for the exercise of my art and the last resource of the dying! morphine! . . . morphine! . . . oh, not easily, I a.s.sure you! . . . through runners! . . . gangsters, the worst kind of pirates . . . between the Kraut and the Helvetian police! I'll tell you about them . . . and out of my own pocket . . . no two ways about it . . . I ruined myself in Germany on Swiss medicines alone . . . naturally I can't expect anything from de Gaulle, some indemnity or diploma, or from Monsieur Mollet . . . they agree with Herr Richter that it would have been a blessing if the Bodies had hanged me . . . Achille has the same idea! . . . his motive is my magnificent works . . . the way they'll boom! boom! the other publishers ditto! the least I could have done was to end in the big house, and even now they do everything in their power to make me turn on the gas . . . they see me wasting away . . . "how long do you think he'll last? . . . six months? . . . two years?" . . . They're worried . . . "Ah, he's out for publicity . . . well, why doesn't he get himself some? The coward! the stinker!" They see my book gushing up from the cellars when I'm dead! . . . happy days for Hachette! the other publishers ditto! the least I could have done was to end in the big house, and even now they do everything in their power to make me turn on the gas . . . they see me wasting away . . . "how long do you think he'll last? . . . six months? . . . two years?" . . . They're worried . . . "Ah, he's out for publicity . . . well, why doesn't he get himself some? The coward! the stinker!" They see my book gushing up from the cellars when I'm dead! . . . happy days for Hachette!

Whoa there, Bessie! My mare's running away! . . . where am I taking you now? . . . I'm sidetracking you . . . I was coming away from Luther, then the Milice Milice barracks . . . exactly! now it's time to get Hilda back to her mother . . . no more horsing around . . . she must be in the waiting room with her little friends . . . The times I'd chased them out of that buffet! . . .the lousy little delinquents! . . . lectured them that this was no place for them! nor the field kitchens! nor for the pregnant women either! . . . more frantic than all the rest! . . . food, mess kits, bread! "Make her come home! . . . spank her! Do anything you want, only make her come home! . . ." So you see, I was used to it. "Get the h.e.l.l out of here!" It made them laugh to hear me curse and swear . . . they'd run away, they'd frisk and gallop . . . and two seconds later I'd find them in another huddle . . . barracks . . . exactly! now it's time to get Hilda back to her mother . . . no more horsing around . . . she must be in the waiting room with her little friends . . . The times I'd chased them out of that buffet! . . .the lousy little delinquents! . . . lectured them that this was no place for them! nor the field kitchens! nor for the pregnant women either! . . . more frantic than all the rest! . . . food, mess kits, bread! "Make her come home! . . . spank her! Do anything you want, only make her come home! . . ." So you see, I was used to it. "Get the h.e.l.l out of here!" It made them laugh to hear me curse and swear . . . they'd run away, they'd frisk and gallop . . . and two seconds later I'd find them in another huddle . . . Lili Marleen Lili Marleen, men all around them, in the buffet or the doors of the artillery trains . . . they ran away again . . . I was the big bad wolf . . . I didn'tmind that . . . but her father? maybe he'd think I was in cahoots . . . that would be the end of our friendly . . . well almost friendly . . . relations . . . Oh, I've had lots of experience of these lousy rotten situations . . . these icebergs about to capsize . . . G.o.d knows that the Germans are mean . . . especially the vons! . . . unctuous, amiable, and ghastly! . . . the station was part of my beat, the medical aspect, first-aid station, refugees . . . naturally that took in the waiting rooms and the prost.i.tution! I was expected to keep things under control! . . . with what equipment? . . . none! . . . everything was missing! . . . sulphur for scabies . . . salvarsan for syphilis . . . nothing! . . . condoms? . . . not a trace! . . . a perpetual headache . . . and now Hilda! . . . I felt like a d.a.m.n fool! . . . I'm talking about the troops in transit, all those trains that come and go for so-called reasons . . . there are no reasons . . . it's a tradition! . . . all countries at war are the same, trains full of troops in transit, going somewhere . . . and coming back from somewhere else . . . the dance of the switches! poetry! . . . flesh was made to be on the move! the perpetual coming and going isn't just in the sky . . . same on the rails, train after train . . . endless trains . . . soldiers and soldiers . . . every branch of service, every nation . . . and prisoners . . . barefoot, their feet hanging out . . . sitting in the doors . . . hungry too! always hungry! and h.o.r.n.y! . . . and singing Lili Marleen! Lili Marleen! . . . Montenegrins, Czechoslovakians, Vlasoff's army, Balto-Finns, soldiers of the European ragout! . . . of twenty-seven armies . . . don't let them stay in one place! let them sing! b.u.mp! travel! and armored trains, cannon the size of a house, bristling giants! . . . dinosaur cannon with two, three locomotives apiece . . . And always more trains, one after the other . . . engineers, artillery . . . and still more . . . whole armies! with their hairy, bare feet sticking out! . . . yelling, demanding girls! . . . they can't stand it any more! . . . if s coming up too hard! . . . which gives you an idea of the traffic: upstairs the Armadas, London-Munich-Vienna . . . downstairs the troop and supply trains, armed meat, hardware, Frankfort, Saxony, Italy via the Brenner . . . it would have been child's play forthem, one bomb, to blow up the whole station! . . . marmalade! . . . blow the whole mess to pieces! . . . no! . . . it had to go on! the worst part of it was that all these trains stayed there switching and shunting . . . right in the station! for hours! . . . and whole nights! . . . under the sheds . . . they'd pull out . . . and come back! the line was cut! . . . the switches demolished! . . . had to start all over again! more soldiers around the piano! . . . my unmarried mothers on other laps! . . . the party went right on! the same bedlam as at the . . . Montenegrins, Czechoslovakians, Vlasoff's army, Balto-Finns, soldiers of the European ragout! . . . of twenty-seven armies . . . don't let them stay in one place! let them sing! b.u.mp! travel! and armored trains, cannon the size of a house, bristling giants! . . . dinosaur cannon with two, three locomotives apiece . . . And always more trains, one after the other . . . engineers, artillery . . . and still more . . . whole armies! with their hairy, bare feet sticking out! . . . yelling, demanding girls! . . . they can't stand it any more! . . . if s coming up too hard! . . . which gives you an idea of the traffic: upstairs the Armadas, London-Munich-Vienna . . . downstairs the troop and supply trains, armed meat, hardware, Frankfort, Saxony, Italy via the Brenner . . . it would have been child's play forthem, one bomb, to blow up the whole station! . . . marmalade! . . . blow the whole mess to pieces! . . . no! . . . it had to go on! the worst part of it was that all these trains stayed there switching and shunting . . . right in the station! for hours! . . . and whole nights! . . . under the sheds . . . they'd pull out . . . and come back! the line was cut! . . . the switches demolished! . . . had to start all over again! more soldiers around the piano! . . . my unmarried mothers on other laps! . . . the party went right on! the same bedlam as at the Lowen Lowen on our landing, outside the c.r.a.pper, but here everybody was in uniform and barefoot . . . no time to put shoes on, too much of a hurry to get out of those cars and kiss my big-bellied beauties and join the chorus! and better things to eat than our kohlrabi! . . . the joy of my little scuppers! big mess kits full of sausage and potatoes! . . . real fat, real b.u.t.ter, all you could eat . . . ah, those field kitchens! on our landing, outside the c.r.a.pper, but here everybody was in uniform and barefoot . . . no time to put shoes on, too much of a hurry to get out of those cars and kiss my big-bellied beauties and join the chorus! and better things to eat than our kohlrabi! . . . the joy of my little scuppers! big mess kits full of sausage and potatoes! . . . real fat, real b.u.t.ter, all you could eat . . . ah, those field kitchens!

Every station in the world is like that when troop trains are stalled . . . life on earth must have started in a railroad station . . . with stalled troop trains . . . the girls come running . . . of course with my Hilda b.i.t.c.h it was only her feverish p.u.b.erty, no need of mess kits . . . healthy teenagers . . . the s.e.x appeal of the waiting rooms! . . . the perverse joy of seeing so many males pouring in at once, all sweaty, hairy, stinking . . . by the carload! . . . and every last one of them with a hard-on yelling lieb! lieb! lieb! lieb! . . . the miracle was that Hilda and her gang of teasers weren't nabbed, stripped, and worse by the S.A. guards! . . . the station police in charge of the platforms . . . all they knew how to do was swing rifle b.u.t.ts and billies! big bruisers! twice a day they crumpled everybody in sight. . . When things got out of hand . . . disorder around the kitchens or around the piano, so many people on the tracks that the trains couldn't pull out . . . they were the ones who restored order . . . with their clubs! . . . any back talk? . . . the miracle was that Hilda and her gang of teasers weren't nabbed, stripped, and worse by the S.A. guards! . . . the station police in charge of the platforms . . . all they knew how to do was swing rifle b.u.t.ts and billies! big bruisers! twice a day they crumpled everybody in sight. . . When things got out of hand . . . disorder around the kitchens or around the piano, so many people on the tracks that the trains couldn't pull out . . . they were the ones who restored order . . . with their clubs! . . . any back talk? ping ping with their Mausers! . . . portable cannons! quick medicine! When Hilda and her little friends saw the S.A. . . . they cut and ran . . . like does in the forest! . . . and came popping out of the next tunnel! . . . I'll say this much for Hilda, in different times she'd have been married . . . I know . . . shewas only sixteen . . . but all the same . . . I'm speaking as a medical man . . . . suppose I were handing out marks from one to twenty . . . even looking hard, you won't find one first-rate girl in a thousand! I mean it! . . . vitality, muscles, lungs, nerves, charm . . . knees, ankles, thighs, grace! . . . I'm difficult, I admit it . . . the tastes of a Grand Duke, an Emir, a breeder of thoroughbreds! . . . okay! we all have our little weaknesses! . . . I wasn't always what I am, a poor crippled, persecuted wreck . . . But I can tell you this . . . the anemic, rachitic, cellulitic . . . ageless and soulless monsters men run after! . . . heavenly day! . . . with c.o.c.ks aflame, ah yes, my dear! . . . are enough to make the most priapic gibbons cut their b.a.l.l.s off with neurasthenic disgust! . . . definitely! . . . Ah, but getting back to Hilda Raumnitz, let's give her a mark . . . conservatively, she'd have rated sixteen out of twenty in our feminine dog show . . . I agree with Poincare: "If you can't measure a natural phenomenon, it doesn't exist . . ." The same with ladies and their charms, most won't get four out of twenty . . . maximum . . . including beauty-prize winners . . . the esthetic mean . . . ten out of twenty . . . is rare! The knees, the ankles, the t.i.ts on them! . . . cushions of fat and flabby meat, slapped on to a few little bones at the last minute! . . . lopsided! . . . Hilda, the little b.i.t.c.h, was one of Nature's surprises . . . absolutely no defects! . . . a well-turned minx, full of s.p.u.n.k! . . . perfect? . . . well anyway sixteen out of twenty! . . . I'm speaking of all this as a veterinarian, a racist so to speak . . . the socio-Proustian terminology of the drawing rooms could easily turn me into a murderer more or less . . . I'm only handing out marks . . . nothing else . . . "Hike up your skirts! Now let's see? What mark?" . . . call it horticulture . . . I don't want to offend you: a flower! Let's try to appraise this flower! . . . the petals! the stem! and give it a mark! We wouldn't want to let Poincare down! . . . Hilda was also remarkably gifted in b.i.t.c.hery (a secondary feminine characteristic)! . . . ash-blond hair . . . not phony ash-blond . . . the real thing . . . hanging down to her heels! . . . really a beautiful Boche animal . . . and fine knees, fine ankles . . . all very rare . . . rounded thighs,tight muscular b.u.t.tocks . . . face not exactly friendly-affectionate . . . more like a Durer, like her father . . . anyway not the supercharged servant-girl type, beaming as she sells her b.u.t.ter and eggs . . . that plunges you into a b.a.s.t.a.r.d c.o.c.k-softening gloom . . . her father, the Major, must have been very good-looking . . . Aisha, her mother, was a blowsy odalisque . . . but she had that certain charm . . . I'm very much of a racist, I'm suspicious . . . and the future will bear me out . . . of extravagant crossbreeds . . . but Hilda, I've got to admit, had turned out all right! . . . But how was I going to get that d.a.m.n kid back to the with their Mausers! . . . portable cannons! quick medicine! When Hilda and her little friends saw the S.A. . . . they cut and ran . . . like does in the forest! . . . and came popping out of the next tunnel! . . . I'll say this much for Hilda, in different times she'd have been married . . . I know . . . shewas only sixteen . . . but all the same . . . I'm speaking as a medical man . . . . suppose I were handing out marks from one to twenty . . . even looking hard, you won't find one first-rate girl in a thousand! I mean it! . . . vitality, muscles, lungs, nerves, charm . . . knees, ankles, thighs, grace! . . . I'm difficult, I admit it . . . the tastes of a Grand Duke, an Emir, a breeder of thoroughbreds! . . . okay! we all have our little weaknesses! . . . I wasn't always what I am, a poor crippled, persecuted wreck . . . But I can tell you this . . . the anemic, rachitic, cellulitic . . . ageless and soulless monsters men run after! . . . heavenly day! . . . with c.o.c.ks aflame, ah yes, my dear! . . . are enough to make the most priapic gibbons cut their b.a.l.l.s off with neurasthenic disgust! . . . definitely! . . . Ah, but getting back to Hilda Raumnitz, let's give her a mark . . . conservatively, she'd have rated sixteen out of twenty in our feminine dog show . . . I agree with Poincare: "If you can't measure a natural phenomenon, it doesn't exist . . ." The same with ladies and their charms, most won't get four out of twenty . . . maximum . . . including beauty-prize winners . . . the esthetic mean . . . ten out of twenty . . . is rare! The knees, the ankles, the t.i.ts on them! . . . cushions of fat and flabby meat, slapped on to a few little bones at the last minute! . . . lopsided! . . . Hilda, the little b.i.t.c.h, was one of Nature's surprises . . . absolutely no defects! . . . a well-turned minx, full of s.p.u.n.k! . . . perfect? . . . well anyway sixteen out of twenty! . . . I'm speaking of all this as a veterinarian, a racist so to speak . . . the socio-Proustian terminology of the drawing rooms could easily turn me into a murderer more or less . . . I'm only handing out marks . . . nothing else . . . "Hike up your skirts! Now let's see? What mark?" . . . call it horticulture . . . I don't want to offend you: a flower! Let's try to appraise this flower! . . . the petals! the stem! and give it a mark! We wouldn't want to let Poincare down! . . . Hilda was also remarkably gifted in b.i.t.c.hery (a secondary feminine characteristic)! . . . ash-blond hair . . . not phony ash-blond . . . the real thing . . . hanging down to her heels! . . . really a beautiful Boche animal . . . and fine knees, fine ankles . . . all very rare . . . rounded thighs,tight muscular b.u.t.tocks . . . face not exactly friendly-affectionate . . . more like a Durer, like her father . . . anyway not the supercharged servant-girl type, beaming as she sells her b.u.t.ter and eggs . . . that plunges you into a b.a.s.t.a.r.d c.o.c.k-softening gloom . . . her father, the Major, must have been very good-looking . . . Aisha, her mother, was a blowsy odalisque . . . but she had that certain charm . . . I'm very much of a racist, I'm suspicious . . . and the future will bear me out . . . of extravagant crossbreeds . . . but Hilda, I've got to admit, had turned out all right! . . . But how was I going to get that d.a.m.n kid back to the Lowen Lowen? . . . I could see the situation was serious! . . . she and her playful friends! . . . elfin delinquents! the whole station was full of them! . . . I could have masked for reinforcements, the military police! . . . I didn't like to . . . I was thinking of my pregnant women around the piano and all over the benches . . . they were only eating, they didn't give a d.a.m.n about the rest! . . . six months gone! eight months gone! . . . double and triple appet.i.tes! sausages, bier bier, goulash! I had none to offer them . . . The M.P.'s would knock them cold! Women from every corner of France, every province! . . . Why had they left? . . . Why had they come to Siegmaringen? . . . informers' village stoolpigeons? . . . small-town wh.o.r.es? or simply factory girls, for the trip? . . . or their men in the L.V.F.? . . . or engaged to Bodies? . . . or post office drudges? Practically all of them had provincial accents . . . North, Ma.s.sif-Central, Southwest . . . no use asking them questions, they always lied . . . only one truth: their appet.i.te . . . it wasn't the few extra noodles I could get them or the kohlrabi dishwater twice a week that would fill them up! all this bread and goulash was their Providence! . . . I wasn't going to get them arrested . . . h.e.l.l, no! . . . I had other things to worry about . . . the scabies, crabs, fleas, lice, and clap they were all pa.s.sing back and forth! merrily merrily! the station was made to order! . . . In the end I expected to see some new germ crop up . . . a real epidemic . . . some c.o.c.keyed little treponema that would thrive in disinfectants! there are times when everything becomes possible! . . . I knew my pregnant women! twoin a bed, thirty or forty to a dormitory, they exchanged everything they had . . . their street was at the upper end of town, Schlachtga.s.se Schlachtga.s.se, the former School of Agriculture . . . There again it was my job, my duty to check up . . . on the general state of the ladies' health . . . see if the stinkers were scratching all right . . . I felt pretty silly without sulphur, without mercury, without mess kits! . . . especially the mess kits! nothing but words! . . . I'd have liked to see Hamlet philosophize those pregnant women! To eat or not to eat! To eat or not to eat! . . . but to tell the truth, I didn't often find them in, hardly ever! . . . in a way I thanked heaven for the tropism of the station! . . . the attraction of the army chow! . . . the attraction of the piano too . . . Happy in the laps of the chorus . . . and . . . but to tell the truth, I didn't often find them in, hardly ever! . . . in a way I thanked heaven for the tropism of the station! . . . the attraction of the army chow! . . . the attraction of the piano too . . . Happy in the laps of the chorus . . . and Lili Marleen! Lili Marleen! three, four pregnant women to a man in positions that weren't the least bit chastel learning the best German . . . from three, four pregnant women to a man in positions that weren't the least bit chastel learning the best German . . . from Lili Marleen! Lili Marleen! . . . all those soldiers had good voices . . . not a false note . . . choruses in three, four voices . . . the whole buffet and the platforms and the field kitchens . . . "painless childbirth" . . . don't give them anything to eat except a mess kitful during delivery! my patients would gladly have had their babies in the station! . . . In their School of Agriculture I had nothing to offer but noodles! . . . neither did Brinon! . . . nor Raumnitz! . . . nor Petain! . . . you'll never see soldiers, Kraut, Slovak, Franzose, Russian, j.a.panese, or Hottentot, refuse a bowl of soup . . . that's the great thing about armies! . . . as long as there were real casernes, you could live off the guardroom . . . the minute reveille sounded, you had all you needed at the door . . . the ragged and needy lined up . . . that's gone and nothing to take its place . . . those really fine customs . . . everything goes, and nothing to take its place . . . nowadays hypocrisy rules . . . they send the poor to eat paper, blanks, and rubber stamps . . . and keep moving! more and more of a hurry! tanks! . . . . . . all those soldiers had good voices . . . not a false note . . . choruses in three, four voices . . . the whole buffet and the platforms and the field kitchens . . . "painless childbirth" . . . don't give them anything to eat except a mess kitful during delivery! my patients would gladly have had their babies in the station! . . . In their School of Agriculture I had nothing to offer but noodles! . . . neither did Brinon! . . . nor Raumnitz! . . . nor Petain! . . .