The Cross of Iron (28 page)

‘Were you hit?’ Maag asked in dismay. Steiner slowly shook his head and looked around. The Russian lay close beside him. At the sight of the man’s face Steiner suddenly felt sick, and threw up. The gush of vomit was so violent that he was thrown forward. Spasm after spasm racked him, and he felt as if he were choking in his own slops. He writhed on the floor, snorting, struggling for breath. Maag stared down at him in helpless fright.

The door was kicked open and Hollerbach, followed closely by Pasternack, came rushing in. They stopped dead, stunned by the sight of Steiner on the floor. Before Maag could explain, Schnurrbart and the others appeared. A few seconds later the whole platoon, except for Dorn and Anselm who had not left their post
_s
were gathered round Steiner and bending anxiously over him’ Their concern was unfounded. Steiner had by now recovered sufficiently to be aware of what was happening around him. He still felt wretched and had to be helped up by the men, and his leg
_s
shook as he staggered to his feet. But then he saw the open door angrily pushed aside the helping hands and cursed. ‘You idiots, close the door, damn it!’

Krüger grinned. ‘I thought so. There’s still some bile in him even though half of it is on the floor. How are you feeling General?’

Steiner rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand and glared. After Maag had closed the door, they looked around. ‘A regular slaughterhouse,’ Schnurrbart exclaimed in disgust. ‘This goddamned lousy war!’

Steiner picked his tommy-gun up from the floor and replaced the empty clip.

‘Where do we go from here?’ Krüger said with some imperativeness. ‘We’re apt to have visitors soon. They must have heard the racket we made.’

‘So what,’ Steiner said. ‘There’s room enough for more corpses here. What happened in your bunkers?’

The men reported. Hollerbach and Pasternack had had the easiest time of it. The two officers sleeping in their beds had never had a chance to wake up.

Steiner turned to Krüger. ‘Is the commander in a condition to be questioned?’

‘When I left him he was still taking a snooze,’ Krüger replied. ‘I can go and see.’

‘You do that,’ Steiner said. Krüger left the bunker. Steiner reached into his pocket and produced a pack of cigarettes which he silently passed to Schnurrbart. He took a cigarette for himself, stepped over the bodies lying on the floor and with the cigarette in his mouth leaned forward to the burning candles. As he stooped one of the dark-brown jacks on the switchboard dropped and a muted buzzing sounded. The men’s heads jerked around and they looked at Steiner, who had frozen in the midst of his movement and was staring at the telephone jack. The buzzing stopped.

Schnurrbart came over to Steiner’s side. ‘What’ll we do? If nobody answers they’ll be coming to see what’s the matter.’

‘Get Krüger,’ Steiner snapped, taking the cigarette from his mouth. Schnurrbart rushed out of the bunker. Steiner examined the apparatus. If was similar to the type of switchboard used in the German army. As he stared at the bright brass plugs he was struck by a thought at which he first shook his head, then involuntarily grinned. He turned toward the men and encountered anxious glances. Maag opened his mouth to say something. But at that moment the buzzing resumed, and instead of speaking he glanced impatiently at the door.

‘Any of you know how to say “wait ” in Russian?’ Steiner asked.

All shook their heads.

‘I’ll see what’s keeping them,’ Kern exclaimed. As he opened the door, Schnurrbart and Krüger appeared. Schnurrbart had already told Krüger the latest development. The East Prussian went directly to the switchboard, picked up the hand-set and pressed the button above the jack. He brought the mouthpiece closer to his lips and said: ‘
Da
.’ The men watched the tense expression on his face slowly disappear. With his free hand he reached out for the crank on the telephone box, turned it vigorously several times, and said: ‘
Kharshov.’
As he replaced the receiver, the jack sprang up. ‘What is it?’ Steiner asked quickly.

Krüger grinned broadly. ‘What a laugh. Some fat-headed signalman decided to test the line.’

Steiner sighed with relief. ‘He ought to be shot for that.’

The door was thrust open again and Anselm appeared, pushing the tall figure of the Russian officer into the bunker. The man’s lean, pale face looked distraught. He caught sight of the dead bodies and swallowed. They could see his adam’s apple bob up and down above his shirt collar. He turned still paler, and swayed from side to side, his eyes fixed upon a single point. Involuntarily, the men followed the direction of his gaze. From one of the upper bunks dangled the corpse of a Russian. He hung head downward; his finger-tips seemed to be reaching for some invisible object on the floor. The head was a dark blob from which blood was dripping on to the wooden floorboards. Already there was a large pool of blood. Schnurrbart felt an impulse to say something obscene. ‘Like a virgin after defloration,’ he commented.

‘What the hell’s that?’ Maag asked.

‘What?’

‘That word you just used. Defloration, or something.’

Schnurrbart tore his eyes away from the corpse on the bunk and grinned. ‘That’s the fate worse than death that a virgin always lives through.’

The men guffawed, and the spell was broken. Steiner turned to the Russian again and studied him. Then he asked Krüger: ‘Who told you to take prisoners?’

‘You can kill him any time,’ Krüger retorted.

Steiner shook his head. ‘I’ve changed my mind, but in the future obey my orders, understand?’

Krüger fell into sulky silence.

‘Come on, we’d better get out of here,’ Schnurrbart said impatiently. He was suddenly filled with an acute dread which was only intensified by the sight of all the dead. But Steiner waved his protest aside. ‘Five minutes more or less don’t matter,’ he said. ‘We have a little more to do here.’ He turned to Krüger.

‘Did you find any maps?’ he asked him.

‘I had other things to worry about,’ Krüger replied indignantly.

‘Well, go and look now. Since this bird is the commander there must be maps of these positions in his bunker.’

Krüger went out.

‘What have you got in mind?’ Schnurrbart asked.

‘You’ll find out in a moment,’ Steiner replied. He beckoned to the Russian. ‘Come here.’ The Russian raised his head; he was still standing by the door. The men had given him no time to put on his tunic. His high-collared shirt was smeared with mud. Steiner regarded his set face thoughtfully. The fellow did not look the type to yield easily. They would have to soften him up good and proper. Kern pushed him roughly forward, bellowing: ‘Didn’t you hear?’ Steiner saw the Russian glare at Kern and clench his fists. ‘Bring him over here,’ he ordered. Kern gripped the Russian’s arm and pulled him across the bunker to where Steiner was sitting near the switchboard. ‘The bastard is still cheeky,’ Kern said, frowning fiercely at the glowering prisoner. ‘Should I smash his ugly mug for him?’

‘Maybe later on,’ Steiner said. He watched as the other men cleared the bodies out of the way, tossing them unceremoniously on to the bunks. For a few seconds he fought down a renewed impulse to vomit. Luckily, the door opened and Krüger came in with several sheets of paper. He dropped them on the telephone switchboard. ‘That’s all there were,’ he said.

Steiner unfolded the maps and studied them. Then he smiled with pleasure. ‘Nice work. Meyer will be glad to see this stuff.’ With his finger he traced the lines. The map was distinctly better than his. The course of the front line was marked in red pencil, and the sectors of the different companies were neatly divided up, although there were no indications of the numbers of the companies. The battalion combat HQ was marked by a red circle. Steiner also found the explanation for the peculiar salient in the main line of resistance at this point. He turned to Schnurrbart, who was peering inquisitively over his shoulder. ‘You see that? There’s a ridge in front of us, and I’ll stake my head on it that our company is over there. The line runs out around here’— his finger pointed to the area marked out with brown cross-hatching. ‘Now we know just where we stand.’

Finger on the map, he considered for a moment. It would obviously be best to try to get through right at the point of the salient. This route was shortest and easiest. He turned to Krüger. ‘Now let’s see what you can do. What I have in mind depends on you, because it depends on the Russian. Look here.’ Krüger bent over the map. ‘You see the point of this angle here?’ Krüger nodded. ‘Good. That’s where I want to cross. Now I have to know which company is stationed there.’

‘Which Russian company?’ Krüger asked.

‘Of course. What’s on the other side of the line doesn’t interest me until we get there.’

Schnurrbart took the pipe out of his mouth. ‘Isn’t that marked on the map. Which company, I mean?’

Steiner shook his head. ‘If it were, I wouldn’t have to ask the Russian.’

‘Well, let’s see,’ Krüger said. He turned to the Russian, who had been listening darkly to the conversation. When Krüger held the map up in front of him and spoke to him, he turned his head aside and set his lips. Steiner raised his hand. ‘He wants to play the hero,’ he said. ‘But we can knock that idea out of his head.’ He stood up and looked at the Russian officer. The man was wearing his trousers without a belt. Steiner reached out so quickly that the Russian’s defensive gesture came only after the buttons had given and the trousers slipped down to the floor. For seconds the Russian stared at the grinning men, his face contorted with fury. But when he stooped to pull up his trousers, Steiner struck him in the face so brutally that he fell over backwards and lay groaning on the floor.

‘That was only the beginning,’ Steiner said fiercely. ‘Undress him completely.’

The men stared at him in astonishment. ‘Hurry up about it! * he snapped at them. Silently, they obeyed. The Russian’s initial resistance quickly ceased. A moment later he lay naked on the floor, panting from indignation and struggle. Steiner sat down again and regarded him coldly. ‘Stand him up,’ he ordered curtly. As though he had understood the order, the Russian sprang to his feet of his own accord. Without clothing he looked spare and helpless. His mouth and nose were bleeding; he rubbed the back of his hand over his face. ‘I never knew a man who was ready to be a hero in his birthday suit,’ Steiner drawled.

He took his bayonet out of his belt and threw it skilfully across the bunker so that it stuck in the wooden floor close to the Russian. ‘If he doesn’t talk, we’ll castrate him,’ Steiner said. He spoke urgently to the men. ‘Everything depends on him. If he tells us lies or refuses to talk, we’re going to have a damned hard time of it, understand?’

They looked at Steiner’s set face, and then at the Russian. Steiner was right, they felt, and the idea of falling into the hands of the Russians now that they were so close to safety drove all mercy out of their heads. Kern rubbed his finger-nails on his coat sleeve and growled: ‘I’ll cut him up piece by piece if necessary.’

‘Then we agree on what we’re to do,’ Steiner said. ‘Tell him, Krüger.’

Krüger spoke harshly, gesturing repeatedly at the bayonet on the floor. The Russian’s face reflected in turn shame, fear, rage and resolution. Steiner, studying him closely, thought he could guess his reaction in advance. He was right. When Krüger stopped talking and held the map up in front of the Russian, the skin tightened over the man’s cheekbones and he said in a firm voice: ‘
Nyet!
’ There was a collective groan in the room. The men moved threateningly closer to the prisoner. Steiner got up and slowly approached him, taking each step with deliberation. When he came up to the man, he stooped, pulled the bayonet out of the floor and toyed with it. ‘So you don’t want to,’ he said softly. Then he took a step backward and ordered: ‘Lay him down.’ They threw him to the floor. When he tried to scream, Krüger slapped his mouth. They knelt on his arms and legs and held him fast. His eyes were fixed upon Steiner with an expression of mortal terror. Steiner clenched the bayonet in his right hand and slowly bent over him. When he raised his arm, a babble of words burst from the Russian’s lips. Krüger listened expectantly. When the Russian stopped, he turned to Steiner, grinning. ‘Good enough. He says it’s the 3rd Company at the point, the 1st and 2nd are on the left and right respectively.’

The men looked at Steiner with visible relief. Steiner was still frowning fiercely at the Russian. Before anyone could stop him, he brought his boot forward and stepped heavily between the man’s legs. The Russian let out a piercing scream and doubled up in agony. ‘You’re crazy,’ Krüger growled. The others looked at Steiner with outrage in their eyes. Steiner tossed his head impatiently and said: ‘This bird wasn’t nearly softened up enough for what I intend to do with him.’

‘You’ve already got your information,’ Krüger protested angrily.

‘Sure, but that’s only a starter.’ They looked blank. He smiled and said: ‘Take him over to the switchboard.’

They pulled the Russian to his feet again, dragged him across the bunker and plumped him down in the chair. Steiner leaned over the switchboard and studied the numbers over the contacts. 

‘What are you up to?’ Schnurrbart asked impatiently.

‘You’ll see,’ Steiner said. He turned to Krüger. ‘We’re going to call up the 3rd Company.’

They looked at him as if he had gone out of his mind. He let them thresh for a few seconds, enjoying their consternation. Then he said: ‘That’s right, we’re going to telephone the 3rd Company. This bird’—he indicated the Russian, who sat doubled over on the chair, hands between his legs—‘this bird is going to tell the company commander that a reconnaissance patrol is on its way.’ 

‘A reconnaissance patrol!’ Schnurrbart whispered. Suddenly he slapped his thigh and burst into laughter. Kern had not yet understood. He looked at Krüger, who excitedly plucked at his nose, and wrinkled his brow, until all at once a broad smile of understanding spread over his face. ‘Why that’s—I’ll be damned—what a mad—what a-’ He pounded Steiner on the shoulder. ‘You’re the maddest man I ever met,’ he declared admiringly. The others still looked baffled. ‘Don’t you understand yet, you idiots,’ Kruger boomed. ‘This Russian will tell his company commander that reconnaissance patrol is going to cross the lines, so the boys have to keep quiet and not shoot.’ Laughing, he turned to Steiner ‘They’ll give us a guard of honour, I tell you, a guard of honour’