Assignment Gestapo Read Online Free Page B

it’s up to me to see that they carry out orders. I don’t quite remember what the procedure is back home in the barracks, but I do know what it is at the front . . . which apparently you have yet to learn. And all I’m saying is, either you keep your nose out of my territory or I shall give my men full permission to go ahead and teach you a thing or two . . . and they could, believe you me!’
    Porta gave a loud, annoying bray of laughter.
    ‘Might as well talk to the cows in the field for all the good that’ll have done!’
    Huhn took a step towards him, then stopped sharp at the look from the Old Man. He contented himself with a tight-throated cry of, ‘You needn’t think you’ll get away with this!’ flung over his shoulder as he went running off to complain.
    We saw him buttonhole Lt. Spät, who listened with half an ear for the first few minutes and then walked off leaving him in full flood. Lt. Ohlsen called impatiently from the road. Porta and Tiny picked up the heavy cooking pot between them and took their place in the column a short way ahead of the Lieutenant, who pretended not to have seen their extra item of equipment.
    The new troops came up at a panic-stricken run, disorganized and uncertain. One of them banged into Porta and sprang back, terrified.
    ‘You do that again and you’ll get your teeth rammed right down the back of your flaming throat!’
    The man grew pale, but sensibly kept quiet.
    ‘Bleeding amateurs,’ growled Tiny.
    Lt. Ohlsen shouted a command and we came smartly to attention. Section leaders relayed his orders as we did a half turn to the right.
    ‘Porta, where’s your flaming helmet, for God’s sake?’ The Lieutenant’s voice came ringing irritably towards us. ‘What the devil is that monstrosity you’ve got on your head?’
    Porta reached up a hand to his old yellow hat.
    ‘I haven’t got one to wear, sir. The Ruskies swiped it’
    Lt. Ohlsen exchanged a despairing glance with Lt. Spät. They always gave up when it came to dealing with Porta.
    ‘All right,’ said Ohlsen, wearily. ‘Put it back on again – whatever it is! You can’t march bareheaded,’
    ‘Yes, sir.’
    The deplorable yellow hat was once more crammed on to Porta’s head. The column moved off in the inevitable rain, which was blowing straight at us and stinging our faces. A moment of excitement was caused by a hare suddenly running across our path, almost upsetting the precious cooking pot as Porta, in his usual eagerness for food, made an involuntarily swipe as the creature shot by.
    ‘What the bloody hell are you doing?’ shouted Tiny.
    ‘We could have skinned it and ate it,’ said Porta, regretfully. ‘We could have put it in the pot along with the booze.’
    Tiny looked at him.
    ‘Who’d want to ruin good booze with a lousy hare?’
    ‘They do in high-class restaurants,’ said Heide, who always knew everything. ‘They’re regarded as a great delicacy, hare done in wine . . . jugged, they call it’
    ‘Sod the hare,’ said Tiny, suddenly. ‘I’d sooner have a bird . . .’
    And with one hand, he demonstrated the kind of bird he meant.
    ‘I’ve almost forgotten what they look like, to tell you the honest truth . . . remember that Russian what had it away with a goose? Got hard up for a bit of the other, so he had to make do with a goose. Not sure I couldn’t do with a goose myself, come to think about it . . .’
    ‘Crap,’ said Heide. ‘You couldn’t do anything if it was handed to you on a plate. Not in this weather, you couldn’t.’
    ‘Who are you kidding?’ jeered Tiny. ‘The way I feel right now, I could do it stark bollock naked at the North Pole . . . what about that time at the Turkish frontier? You forgotten that have you? Snow was inches deep on the ground—’
    ‘That’s different. You could do it in snow, but you certainly couldn’t do it stark naked at the North Pole,’ objected Steiner, very seriously.
    Steiner was a driver, who had been sent to us as