Castle to Castle (30 page)

If they'd died en route, blown to pieces, nobody would have known . . . hell, no. How many died? . . . the ones who came back, the experienced grandmothers didn't want any more tickets . . . they just wanted to stay in the station! faithful to Pétain! And lie down on the tracks! With the ladies of the Mission! . . . the time had come to resist all threats, clubs and doubletalk . . . you had to laugh the way they got their way at the kitchens . . . nobody could take their place! . . . one mess kit . . . another . . . As soon as they saw me in the distance, they yelled for me to hurry . . . to examine them . . . tongue, liver, blood pressure . . . it was like being back in Clichy . . . and the heartburn! . . . I had to make them lie down and give them a good going-over . . . feel their stomachs, the exact spot! that heartburn! . . . at home in Voulzanon (Lot), Dr. Chemouin (whom I was expected to know) had prescribed a certain powder . . . they didn't remember what it was called . . . but it was really marvelous! . . . I was supposed to know that too . . .

"Oh yes, yes, Madame! I'll bring you some! Stay right where you are!"

I gave at least twenty consultations . . . on benches . . . on the roadbed . . . in the buffet . . . there it was harder, too much singing! . . . the old women weren't my only patients, soldiers and civilians too! . . . the piano never stopped . . . or
Lili Marleen
. . . or the trains outside . . . or in the air the roaring merry-go-round of Fortresses . . . London-Munich . . . Dresden . . . this worry about the Sky falling is a lot of Gallic affectation! . . . a time comes when nobody gives a damn! . . . the mess kit is God! . . . fuck the Sky! grandmothers in uniform! my pregnant women, too! . . . they looked cute! . . . the boots they devised, bundles of newspaper, scraps of felt tied around with strings and straw . . . they could stay outdoors for hours, even in the rain! the prisoners' specialty was gaiters! made out of old tires . . . In Cameroon I'd seen whole populations in shoes made out of tires . . . People get used to anything . . . all over the world . . . here . . . and there . . . I've seen people getting along fine without shoes . . . After the H . . . V . . . and Z-bomb you'll see what our geniuses can do! . . . the combined talents of Manhattan and Moscow! . . .the bomb is only a moment of anger, shoes are a permanent problem! My problem, though, was getting the Raumnitz kid home . . . I had to watch my step with her father! . . . it was all very perilous . . . The sky, never mind, I was used to that! . . . those squadrons practically on top of the station and the Castle . . . one move, one little flip of the finger, they could have turned us into a bonfire . . . us and the bridge and all the troop trains! . . . one bomb! . . . all the ammunition would have exploded! . . ."we'd seen Ulm! . . . Ulm had taken them fifteen minutes! . . . but right then I wasn't worried about grand strategy, I was worried about getting Hilda back to her father! I'd called her twenty times! Hilda! I could keep on calling! better take the bull by the horns: the S.A.! . . . Everybody out on the road! clear the platforms, the buffet, the tracks! Then we'd see! But right away they start yelling! protesting! "S.A., get everybody out of here!" I've told you about the S.A. . . . all muscle, big hulking bruisers, and mean, faces like gorillas . . . and those "pocket-cannon" Mausers! 

"Franzose? Franzose?"
they ask me. 

"
Nein . . . nein!
Obersturmführer von Raumnitz." 

I told them not to shillyshally . . . don't worry, they didn't . . . first the buffet!
"Raus! raus!"
the pregnant lap-sitting women and their feeler-uppers!
"Raus! raus!
" . . . and the benchloads of tender interminglings! . . . they move along, but they curse and threaten! . . . in Hungarian . . . Bulgarian . . . and
Plattdeutsch!
. . . every branch of service . . . infantry . . . engineers, and the
Organisation Todt
. . . and the Yugoslavian prisoners . . . pissed-off! especially the refugee girls . . . with their legs in the air! . . . the Lithuanians, very blond, white . . . almost like silver! . . . I remember them well . . . they'd learned all the choruses of the troops and railroad stations . . . in three, four voices!
la! la! G-sharp!
it was one big tangle! and the refugees from Strasbourg!
Lili Marleen!
Christ Almighty! the piano and the singing boost the morale! the pissing! and the
Bier!
and the friendly laps! and the big tits! . . .
la! la!
G-sharp and the Margotton Mission, stenographers and solemn directors meeting in doorways, swiping bread and sausages from each other! kittenish! and the monocles! I could see trouble ahead! . . . the grandmothers lying on the tracks, pretending not to know what was going on . . . a hell of a mess and anyway you look at it it was my fault! for alerting the S.A. I shouldn't have said anything! now it was a pitched battle! clouts and haymakers! who was going to evacuate that buffet? . . . the S.A.? the girls? the soldiery? Ticklers and benders! and how about the piano? . . . and the field kitchen? . . . who was going to come out on top? . . . I could see the shock coming, a blood bath! . . . inevitable! . . .
Marleen
or not! . . . all I cared about was for Hilda to go home! her father! . . . if his daughter was manhandled, I'd never hear the end of it! . . . hell, was I to blame? . . . Brinon wouldn't put in a word for me, or Pétain . . . or Bucart or Sabiani or anybody else! . . . It's my face . . . I'm always responsible! for everything! . . . it gives everybody a kick what a sap I am! whatever happens, I catch it, everything falls on me! a godsend! and everybody else gets off! . . . good deal, this Ferdinand! . . . Oberführer von Raumnitz was really a Boche to watch out for! I knew him like a book! I saw him two three times a day . . .

Well anyway, the S.A. cleared the buffet and the platforms! no more
Marleen!
. . . no more piano! . . . Arm in arm . . . bureaucrats . . . grandmothers and soldiers . . . okay, if they couldn't be left in peace . . . so long! they'd take their party to town! . . . and the Kraut housewives from the village! who had only come to watch! . . . arm in arm . . . I consoled myself . . . it's all right! I'd catch Hilda and her friends! . . . the S.A. were doing all right . . . if nothing had gone wrong! but all of sudden
bzing!
I said to myself: they've fired! trouble, trouble! . . . it was the S.A., twelve of them, who were separating the men from the women! . . . cutting their party in half! you get the picture! sending the men back to the station and the women into town! . . . well, naturally
smash! bang!
the mess kits begin to fly! Ferdinand, I said to myself, your goose is cooked! . . . I'd kept out of it . . . two more shots! and complete silence! Who had fired? . . . oh, I hadn't far to look . . . a Kraut on the ground! . . . I go over . . . a whole crowd around him . . . one of the S.A. men had fired . . . this guy had had it! . . . blood gushing from the bullet hole in his back . . . in pulsations . . . and out of his mouth,
glug glug
. . . a Kraut from the armored train . . . they had camouflage uniforms . . . his chameleon skin was soaked red . . . his blood pouring all over the street . . . never knew what hit him! . . . shot in the back! . . . I go up, feel his pulse, I auscultate . . . nothing! all over! Okay, may as well go back . . . sure, but now they were talking again! yapping all around us! . . . and not gently! In their opinion the S.A. were the world's worst brutes! and this was the end! worse cannibals than the Senegalese in Strasbourg! and a damn good thing they were coming . . . the Senegalese from Strasbourg and the Fifis from Vercors! They'd welcome them with open arms! . . . they knew them, they'd had dealings with them, they'd passed through their partisan country! And they could compare! Hurrah for the Fifis! That's what the crowd was yelling! Hurrah for the Russians! All I knew was that the housewives, the pregnant women, and the soldiers had gone mad . . . they were going to rush the S.A.! they were going to charge! this time there'd be a massacre! not just one victim! Well, I can tell you . . . absolutely historical . . . that Laval saved the day! If he hadn't come along, the bullets would have flown! . . . but luckily he was just going for a stroll . . . with his wife! . . . never the same time as Pétain! . . . along the Danube too, but the other bank . . . so he'd come down toward the station . . . luckily! If not for Laval, no survivors! He comes over . . . I can still see him . . . he sees me, he sees the lay of the land . . .

"Is it all over, Doctor?"

"Yes, Monsieur le Président . . ."

He knew about these things, he'd had the same in Versailles, nothing bogus, for real, X-rays . . . the bullet still gave him pain . . . he was a good man . . . he hated violence, not for himself like me . . . my abjectness in that respect is really discouraging . . . I, who had called him every known name including Jew, and he knew it and he really had it in for me for calling him a kike far and wide, I can speak objectively . . . Laval was the born conciliator . . . and a patriot! and a pacifist! . . . I tend to see butchers all around me . . . but not him! No! No! . . . I'd been going to see him for months up on his floor of the Castle, he told me some wonderful stories about Roosevelt and Churchill and the Intelligence Service . . . What Laval wanted . . . he had no use for Hitler . . . was a hundred years of peace . . . well, if peace was what he wanted, he'd come at the right time . . . this Kraut lying there! . . . I filled him in . . .

"Monsieur le President! You've got to do something! The S.A. are out of control! They're going to kill everybody!"

That was God's truth. The twelve of them were standing there . . . with their mausers aimed at us! First Laval wants to see for himself, he goes over to the dead man, under the eyes of the S.A. . . . he bends down, he takes off his hat, he salutes . . . the others around him salute, too . . . the crowd . . . the women cross themselves, the S.A. stand at attention.

"Is it all over, Doctor?"

"Yes, Monsieur le Président!"

Then he addressed the crowd.

"All right! Now go home! All of you! Follow the Doctor!"

He turns to me: "You're going back to the
Löwen
, Doctor?"

"Yes, Monsieur le Président! . . . and the ladies to their dormitory in the School of Agriculture! . . ."

"You'll escort them?"

"Yes, Monsieur le Président . . . and Hilda, the young lady there, I'm taking her back to her father."

"Who's her father?"

"Major von Raumnitz . . ."

"Von Raumnitz . . . good! good! . . ."

Seeing Laval and his wife talking friendly with everybody, not the least bit proud, cooled the crowd off! . . . they stopped looking at the killers . . . and the dead man! Laval and his wife were the attraction now . . . They took the opportunity to question him . . . would it be over soon? . . . were the Germans going to win? or lose? . . . he must know! . . . he must know everything! . . . but they didn't leave him time to answer . . . they answered for him! . . . it was the Forum around Laval . . . the Stock Exchange! around Laval and Madame! Everybody shouting! Everybody was right! He hadn't understood this! He hadn't understood that! He should admit! Why didn't he admit? Laval was stubborn too! man of the last word! . . . Chamber! Forum! Firing Squad! . . . the voters couldn't faze him! . . . and the best part of it for me was that all these orators . . . the unmarried mothers and Laval and Madame . . . were going back up to the
Löwen
. . . that nobody was going back to the station . . . that much gained! . . . they kept after Laval, they grabbed him by the sleeves, they latched on . . . he should admit he'd been wrong! they knew everything! all the ins and outs! . . . Laval who'd been a lawyer . . . and Premier . . . who'd always been right! he found his masters, he was forced to listen to these people who were tugging at his sleeves, stepping on his feet ten at a time! . . . forcing him to pay serious attention! nothing like Aubervilliers or the Chamber!

The only thing that interested me was that they were coming away from the station.

Laval, who thought he was the great orator, hadn't found one contradictor . . . he'd found a hundred . . . unmarried mothers . . . housewives . . . female workers and refugees from Strasbourg . . . Lozère . . . and Deux-Sèvres . . . who knew a damn sight more than he did . . . and he should just listen! . . . if this had been in the Chamber, he'd have been voted down! So help me, I saw Laval coming back from the station under a barrage of advice . . . all he could say was: Yes . . . yes . . ." from the station to the
Löwen
. . . snowed under by the talk . . . no violence! . . . no blows! only political passion and solid arguments! as long as they're headed for town is the way I looked at it! and don't change their minds! and start in the other direction! . . . but that was Laval's genius! . . . he maneuvered them with "yes . . . yes . . . yes" . . . he led the arguers . . . they wanted him to go on listening! . . . he really saved the day! . . . not only for me, for everybody else in the station, getting them out of there! . . . the S.A. were in position . . . skin of our teeth if they didn't fire . . . lay everybody out! it was Laval's doing if they didn't fire! letting them all shout at him, fasten onto his cuffs! pretending to be floored by their arguments until they were all back at the
Löwen
, the
Stam
, the
Bier
and the crapper . . . man, did they run for the tables! more
Stams!
more mess kits! men and women! Herr Frucht blocked the door, he wouldn't let the pregnant women in, they should go and eat where they belonged! Up on the
Schlachtgasse!
another rebellion! negotiations! Finally they agreed to evacuate, to clear out of the doorway with a kilo of synthetic honey apiece! . . . pregnant women go for sweets! . . . anyway the crowd broke up . . . they left Laval flat . . . Laval and his wife . . . he just had time to say to me: