Forward, Children!
k Dennison'
aising himself on one elbow and unc
cks have come,"
's c
ucks have brought supplies. We've got fo
replied hazily. He squinted and ducked as Landel sho
ank and sandbag irrigation shack for his tank helmet. His tall body almost filled
eah, you needed sleep." He shifted his flashlight around the crude shac
trucks are here ... thr
"Are you awake?" He pushed Dennison--shoved him
is it?" Den
s got here with his kitchen ... so, let's go ... okay? Now?" He was talking to himself, spitting out words, annoyed by the day's problems, w
... I'm goi
d, yawning and propping himself against t
reapp
" he shouted. "See yo
andel screamed, his head in the doorway. He zoomed his flas
ds over his bearded face, slum
en: legs and lights passed with metronome jerkiness across the sand: dust came up from beneath boo
ok sand from the make-shift roof of the shelter where o
the tanks and a tank dump nearby; he could smell the gas
ing air w
noticed his squashed, grease-pocked helmet; sleepily, he reached for it and placed it across his lap, pressing it down, maki
hat he had dreamed
cigarette glowe
own toward Lake Cayuga, the tower and the sounds blurring. Kids were sitting in the library, at long t
ember the sound
ds somewhere, students standing around the fire, some of them singing. A guy was pl
s and hands ha
le, the heat increasing, a shortage of water, the wate
a tank stinking and coughing nearby. The sound brought with it the sensation of violent
ed about: his helmet had rolled heedlessly and bumped against the wall: recov
wormed about the blankets for his mess kit and steppe
ed deeply to help wake up. The chilly air nipped h
ard the sky. The stars seemed closer because of the junked pipes and gears: the sky, utterly cloudless, was defiant: in a few hours its sun would
d by, coughin
Dennison and his cigarette. "We'r
lips with his ton
d. "Wait a second ... I've got
lked behind his crewmate--the sand deep, their bo
t today," Mil
you," Dennis
s on the
as it y
with skeletal brush and camel grass growing on its side. Gaunt, set off by stars, it threatened the kitchen and men, hung, swollen, a thing of unbelievable weight. Yel
ighty men, brushing sand out of a mess kit with a dirty handkerchief and
eeted one o
f your ass." The man drained his coffee and then blew
coffee pot raised for pouring, his face smudged, his eyes puttied with sleep; c
cross the counter, the pot steaming. He smiled at Dennison, liking him: Denn
n said, "you just came in with your o
ld still, have some hash. H
Dennis
said, behind Dennison.
e helmets; they were an unshaven lot. Their khaki did not count for much: they were all of a piece: their greasy, oil
ch with a bush on his face, each with a crew cut o
ded behind t
fire," Millard said, moving a few yards away
pped out of line and pushed
ome of the wood out of the blaz
a hit," Dennison belched ch
somebody yelled. "What's a piddling campfire alongside a village! We'
ating, spooning and chewing slowly, listening to the men talk, noticing the stars now and then. The pan burned pleasantl
f him, Millar
combustion; why, man alive, the Panzer tanks withstand the
s yelling f
ody b
n tanks in reserve ... I'
iliarity helped: the fire was encouraging: the hash was r
s, the vast terrain they had covered, that whamming through the sand, screwing round to avoid rock
luck had pulled th
there might be enough water, stuff that was fit to drink ... they could travel across some comparatively level ground, n
ousand stars, no New York sky; even through the smoke the points blinked brightly. Coldly. He held a mouthful of coffee on his tongue before he tackled his food once more. The bread w
ed up mess kit, coffee cup in the midst of the hash. Zinc's beard shone weirdly, crazily red in the light. He pus
a watch where we step in this desert." His teeth flashed in a grin intended for Denni
wn on t
d, sitting, his mess kit
ad. An
ash and bread--that's news!
of the 604th is trailing us;
lds again," Zink said, sopping hash onto a l
several minutes the dune came nearer, seemed taller, m
watched the fire, the coming and going men. His hair, badly cut, trimmed by a madman, was greasy, in contrast to his scrubbed whi
than the gunk they fed us yesterday," he said. "A
s lousy," De
more of this has
. there'
here plent
ave more hash before the fl
ere when we stop ... a fine way to g
Dennison asked. "Any
ed, gasping, his face white above his beard. During the morni
to place--somehow. Maybe the muscles inside are knittin'
rotten jolt, and came near puttin' me out o
okay," De
ted a hunk
n eat I can mana
quatted on the sand; several sat on oil drums; some ate with their backs to the flames; others loafed ab
e coffee," he said
an," sa
uy, slow, sloppy, small, with black rimmed spectacles and a black wad of a moustache, the image o
e, bringing the kitchen f
guys in the black ... ba
Where was the US? All these men ... here ... how had they g
e should eat more? What about being wounded on a full
ve got some sinkahs for you.
. I gue
ide of his kitchen--and pulled out a cellophane bag and pass
son g
boy,
GI's storming over the sand, howling for doughnuts across the counter. "Jus'
reme
unched a doughnut underneath hi
ow it'
you rat
there's another sinkah
fake accent, fished for th
rfe
talking. Dennison lit a cigarette and offered his pack to Zinc, who accepted one.
a Korps was on him!" He remembered Landel bellowing over the tank intercom, storming ab
Zinc commented, rec
wanting a leave, a week, two weeks, a month away from the assaults. Let some other guy knife his way through the An
, couldn't talk some of the time. One of his men got shot
on drenching their legs and arms and backs; they felt the lunging of their machin
grains of sand, shuffled through the dying fire, rub
off shelling, fel
tremble in Denn
at his han
, those gawky French windows in grey stone walls; he thought of his uncle's writing desk in his room
e the park at E, the oaks, ash, chestnut, willow ... the miniature island where Rousseau had been buried ... the Petit Lac
bout the terrain that was ahead: unfolding a map, some went over the lay of the land together. Wiping
he fire
omed and died.
nding in groups, be
head bent; Zinc follow
the base of the great dune. The bulk of each tank was something cut out of the night. As Den
int had been chipped off innumerable places. Her starboard side had sunk down where the sand had given way under her weight. She weighed thirty-
een?" Landel screamed, appearing o
d eating," De
in' on the floor of the bus. My god, man, can't you
t," Dennison yelled.
spotlight went out; the darkness seemed to alter th
hat light? What's the matter! Th
atter of seconds the mechanic's light snapped on. Dennison had climbed on
out of here; we've a hell of a lot to do before we can pull out. Millard," he screamed: "MILLARD, Milla-ard. G
elly. He got up with a grunt, not a word. Their bearded faces leered at each other in the winking light; a halft
Millard snapped. "Why not move our
nty-six, now a middle-aged farm hand, face seamed, ugly. His mouth was too big, fla
son said. His flash yellowed boxes of ammuni
tta keep sand off those boxes ..
rday," Zinc said. "Couldn
rpaulin and wiping off the machine gun cartridges before lugging them. The path to the tanks became crowded; the sand got ver
box, and those of the bevel-gear case. He checked fuel lines for leakage. Starting the motor, revving it, he glanced at his wristwat
hulky body coming out of the night, his helme
exclaimed, handing
y, w
ya; he hated the tanks; the old happy days had been his boyhood days in Wisconsin, on h
ce it. Everything they touched was sandy; sand spat at them, rasped their h
a shell boomed among the machines; there was an enormous rattle of steel as gravel and
us," Chuck yelled. "Lig
ent wrong: we're always blundering, blundering ...
e, Chuck ...
ned the bolt, c
ther shell struck, banging furiously. Darkness meshed with silence! Someone flipped on the cab lights; Dennison jazzed the motor,
: the steel walls became paper partitions, l
iving slits, Landel beside him, unfolding his
before: starboard, around the great dune; northeast by road for six kilometers; t
hells. Somebody coughed over the intercom. The rear light got doused; another bulb popped on where Chuck was working at a bolt on his gunnery seat, tilting the pad to a new angle. Milla
n. Dennison shifted the powerful Chrysler motor into second and swung away from the gr
anced at hi
s. A shell, exploding in the distance, resembled a fake dawn. Pushing down with his palms, Dennison gripped the clutch levers. Feeling jailed, st
nication was comin
ed over rocks he flooded the engine and it snorted and backfired and spat into the d
to port. In time the light became a code, and Denniso
ack: their prearranged signal for mutual under
... where they
e radio," La
, how wrinkled that flap of sand: good, to get out of that black
ripped the sky and hung suspended, rocking, ki
a shell blew up beside the Sherman and hurled it half around. Dennison toppled from his seat--the air knocked out of his lungs. He thought: We're hit ..
her
.. port!" La
owned the shellfire. Their grinding was like the beating of pneumatic hammers on metal sheets. It seemed to the crew
d a lofty dune; he leaned forward to relieve a cramp in his side and wet his l
g for dawn, De
a little ... got
and indicated his mouth: lights in the cab
ison heard o
d he would never have another drink, never get out, never have a chanc
crash of shells, the steel: i
teen to Landel.... Strange, dark
m lantern ... this was another cave, a cave that moved. He shivered from the heat and his dri
soon free him from the signaller's microscopic dot. He
one; the radio was wheezing ins
usly; he glanced through his slit across the desert, across slab after slab of unfamiliar ground where yellow light ex
ing to Chuck
signal!" La
o," Chuc
ur, it was grey inside the tank now; the faces of the
painful tooth: the thing had to be extracted. Fred Landel had his palms palmed over his eyes, his b
eyed the engi
ie in bed and sleep ... could
hing in the rocking motion, the rise and fall, made him feel that he was driving over the bodies of wounded men. He seemed to see across treel
s seared hi
oward the rear--retreat. He wanted to open a steel door, jump out,
son. As Landel yelled on the radio transmitter, Dennison bent ove
Anadi--Ar
was A
en it was smooth going: he shot the bus into faster gear: they were
tion with other ta
y: a hund
nk
ll
machine gun: it was Zinc: then th
signall
tank began zigzagging; the machine on the port side was driving straight ahead.
north
ped wildly al
ped white walls, white roosters, bashed dome, a toppling minaret, more Libyan dust. From a brick compound,
ed inside. Dennison rolled forward slowly. The lights went on. Dennison had a moment to catch a glimpse of tiled roofs, bar
er cobbles, over a low barricade, close to a white wall; there a poster disp
ink ... rest ... may
the space from house to house, street side to street si
ators, oil gauge, gas gauge, temper
crashed on the thought: he held his mouth open, expecting another detonation. The treads scr
n fan seemed t
incre
desert, shel
clear up? Christ, how my shoulders ache! What have the
thirty tanks i
. Okay, we push ah
e war could be shut out. White flags fluttered on roof tops--dirty white rags. Sandbags, with Egyptian lettering on them, leaned against an iron fence that leane
on of a dog he had owned in E, a brown dog: here Tubby, here T
hine gun destroyed an emplacement on a roof: Millar
front of a store where Nazi gunners were firing. Above a dome, perhaps a mosque, a
ed together, men and women, their clothing white and blue; their turbans white. Landel swung his mac
tank wall, Lan
hy the hell are you out in the st
eir eyes and throats. The crewmen's faces were haunted. They stared out of ports
irectly ahead as the p
erstand its composition, figure out how it originated, whether it alte
ntercom: he had seen Al crash onto the floor: they had wanted to lug him outside, into the a
horses and a cow. Horses not cars. He had talked about horses at camp: they had been buddies at Camp Manley.
till inside. A signal Corps flag appeared in the doorway of a two story building. A Corps flag wagged on a roof. Denn
he read Lan
t
i, shells were gutting, lo
, fog, people waiting for a double-decker, kids leaning over a bridge rail, Big Ben, the grey Thames flowing .
ecked the
gaso
ion, they separated, to mop up. A barricade had been erected on a street between low, white walls; there we
even second floor windows. Grey sh
of masonry. As Dennison topped the barricade a Nazi tank opened fire, firing
to the right; he yelled through the intercom to Chuck, ordering him to open fire. Chuck's 75-pounder boomed. D
rward as fast as she would roll. If the commander of th
ook, the Nazi turret is revolving. Wait, Chuck heard Landel's comman
pped a shell behind the Sherman: it exploded so close its force threw Landel to the floor. Smoke drenched the por
n to fan out as Dennison stared, his bus motionless. The sun was beating down: the smoke was clearing: dust was rolling up fro
s first t
ssed the barrel and bullets clattered across cobbles and rubble. Some of the soldiers c
to the square where other M4's were parked, near
.. get outside ... some water ..
removing his helmet, he splashed his head, staring into the shallow white tiled pool. A single fish was swimmi
face again, th
grey-grey something
opped, flicked its tail, puffed i
and crossed the square and brush
Zinc, his hands in the fountain: he floppe
aintly: it would be hours bef
gh he had won the war: he had seen Landel's bus knock out the Nazi machine. Landel pointed o
d up the cat a
men nervously, speaking French, talking jerkily, as if something had injured his tongue. He could not get it into his head that
from his bott
handed back the bottle, the boy began to shout and point: he
house! See! There's machine gun ... it's pointed this way! Maybe s
ht he yelled at the nearest crewmen. The warning spread. Someone at the fount
. At once the
ard fell, slumping heavily against the basin of the fountain; t
ners ... planes roared overhead ... Millard was dead; the wat
or was it t
objected. "I'm okay. We'd
d ... a nick. Hold
und him. Dennison thought that his face had become years older: oil had spattered his chin. His lowered lip sagged, exposing his missing tee
o cares! In Afr
ill b
rboy was
ll," Zinc
ur of us to crew our t
t!" Zin
s," Dennis
nage, Chuc
iary sum worth far more? His hands trembled: death was such a crappy business. In Ohio d
oss the square, banging on a door, shoving him inside when two women opened. A bull
ng of the roof gunners. Kneeling and sitting on the tiled floor of someone's living room he and Zinc did their best to bandage the
nch he yelle
cate a Red
the boy, her blue boubous was
n," she
of their stock of bandages: the
ison said to himself. "Nic
Millard was left, to be trucked to a base. The tanks gulped water. A supply tank furnished
the coffee? Cigarettes? God
amed: Advanc
pening a double door, a pack of dates lay on his table, a gi
shut his eyes: he belched and swayed in his seat: the hatch ban
minded the heat; already the roaring of the tank
om--far away--h
concrete pi
ust be some other M4's around! Or an M18! Maybe the rest of the Corps was lost on the desert--in some hellish place.
ar a chapel, was the pillbox, white, dirty, plastered with faded movie posters. Before Dennison could shift gears
l sig
the blood flow from his head: he thought: going to conk out. Must have cant
t ... go si
beyed auto
ck bawled at
ready ... re
ust a rod of steel: methodically, Chuck trained his 75; his first shell overshot but
ide opened, Landel accounted f
ng, whistlin
ashed it, treads burying the spirals, the
: water, face, water, the turret flung open, now he could brea
surface seemed annoyingly, dec
h it
he aske
reported, doubt
an Inca ceremonial head: a scratch under one eye was bleeding; his naked sh
d about the fountain. Should have known, should have. It was Dennison's fault for not reconnoitering. Give him hell
yapping on
f the highway. He had no chance to diminish his speed and zoom aside since they were clocking forty. Dennison's nerves buckled, his spine stiffened, his throat contracted
him ... I killed one of o
ret, stabbing the desert. Deser
ighway i
using his
showed an e
they were h
umble a tread, stove in the floor, belch out the walls? ... In the white walled house, the A
d as the bodies of men. Excellent imagination. Useless. Absurd. Such thinking had not hardened
d seemed to him that he had crushed them himself, mashed then with his own weight. He had dreamed then, for many nights, of arms and han
d
d ... palm trees, white one-story
t their tank forces were pincering: th
and starboard--was undulating with heat and light: heat, combining a scab
ow, he seemed a little insane as he swatted at flies. The dust on his cycle matched the dust on his fatigues.
.. so this was Beramet? Where, in Bera
ndows, firing machine guns, firing rifles. GI's opened a front. A grenade exploded. Sand gushed up. Another grenade forced sand through the visors and por
hed across
other. Eyes on the street havoc, he moved his machine as directed. Sometimes he saw Arabs firing, sometimes Nazis, sometimes
the Beramet probe was almost over ... now he noticed that his hand was scratched and he li
ly pain and everyone hoped to die. In this world there was the torture of sound being tortur
ter. Time could never obliterate these memories. The brain was permanently wounded. He tried but could not tap the future: he was too
death woke him. He woke shaking,
shortage: they squirmed into a wadi below a hundred meter red cliff topped by a
, concrete wall that crossed the wadi. Its concrete apron bedded a few of the Shermans. Landel, hoping the cl
ed into food the crews tried to eat. They crept over hands and faces and necks as men tried to work. They bit. Singly and by the dozen
led over
ed cold coffee from a thermos. With a rag over his face, Dennison was determined to rest as lo
dragged him throu
p of the cliff fall; he heard rocks and gravel avala
flew over but
, following their tell-tales across the desert. Like infallible radar the ruts could le
nd and slice a man across his waist and chest: the man did not scream. God, Dennison groaned. Another bomb flattened Dennison: Jesus, how ma
id hurling metal: he imagine
isted h
enc
rhead to cut down on the spray of sand. Nobody said a word. Presently, Chuck Hitchcock came crawling, blubbering, mouth gaping: crawling o
never see again: he tried to shield his wounded face, the man
ught, remembering Chuck's stories about bil
fell into ensheathing fire. It was visible to everyone under the tarp. Sand fountained.
bomb e
or it!" Denn
... get out of her
. Chuck was sobbing. Dennison thought every step was getting them nowhere; yet Landel appeared out of a wall of smoke, his head pla
uck cried. "I'm
tied rags or handkerchiefs or shirts over their face. So, it was sand, not flies. The
ted, trying to estimate damage. H
flies are gone, the bomb's got rid of the fl
ies ... the bombers
andel said,
fl
hit him
d too, in spite of his hysteria, that he was lucky to have escaped:
huddling, at first in little groups. In twos and threes they began checking, cl
the m
as
lies, flying close to the sa
ind kicked up dust. A section of the wadi cliff had toppled and sand had buried snouts and sides of several machines and both half-tracks: the san
a sand hollow. Directly in front of Dennison lay a pair of arms, intact from f
e, Denn
binson, fro
k, dragging Chuck, almost hurlin
coffed. "Watch where you're going
nd knocked him down: he tried to jump on him but
del gulped. "Are
Dennison yelled. "Larry Robins
ies had been blown about like chips. Glaring at Chuck's bloody eyes he felt no pity for him: he f
tain he ordered Dennison to ta
... take him, then let's get our bus
ison said to hi
him hospitalized; on leave, he would rest by the ocean; ships w
in the sun the imbedded sand glistened like glass; blood glistened like glass. C
talking kind
Dennison asked
N
fter you ... he's fro
ho
lli
a do
cal C
re a
e ... Willits and Cobb are helping the men
go, Den
he side? ... I want to put medic
ka
uff won
ka
d st
cigarette,
re.
garettes to be shredded; the pack was badly squashed but he s
railed across his eyes; the cigarette dropped to the sand; rolli
s ... m
ds off them!"
hey so
re bad--keep yo
a dwarf thorn t
gher ... I'm using more m
gimmie a
" said D
grey animal-kind eyes. When Dennison returned with water, he nodded at
hat around your head ... over your eyes ... we'll get you to a doctor soon as we can ... I'll use the transmitter ... o
as Dennison walked awa
he hatches, freed the guns: Landel had a shovel: there was no Al, no Millard, no Chuck: climbing inside Denniso
the transmitt
red Landel ... M4-221 reporting ... bombers caught us at point L-T ... place we call "The Dam" ... tanks badly
d him, in the transmitter, the old seat cushion, the thermos on the
io splu
oming in ... we know your conditions ... medical help enroute ... tanks moving f
el. A star specked the horizon. For an instant, for several minutes, he contemplated the ancientness and greatness of this continent: perhaps some of that greatness could resurrect mankind. How absurd the steel hulks,
ambulances, a corps of medics: "the dam" became an encampment, a black-in of men and steel. Dennison, at
ression, he was losing his best friend: everythin
o meet her. She's, she's pretty ... was the prettiest girl in Racine ... She's stationed at Red Cross ... Dalton
in the ambulan
r said: we'r
e ... tell her I sent you ... take it ... you can find her ..
od-
od-
ds slip on the shovel handle. He and Zinc were digging by lantern light, their shadows mugging each other: arms,
o showed a beautiful woman. Slipping it
hungry," he
... gotta sit ... rest." He was trying to rub away intestinal pain with his right hand: he had strained muscles as he helped l
.. he's lost his
mumbling
mutilated body, on a stretcher in a converted supply tank. Robinson's ID fell beside the tank and Zinc b
son said, folding some canvas over him. "Who's b
and lack of sleep: numb, he stumbled toward the chow wagon, shoes sinkin
n gasoline drums, oil drums, boxes, t
truck, under blankets and tarpaulin. Wind scraped at the tarp with a s
in the morning,
w," Zi
we hav
ea
miles they had to travel before the war ended. Three stars burned in a ragged triangle: gradually, the uppe
a grotto, Atala's grotto: ah, that pitiful story: beauty obliterated by superstition, by folly: lovely Atala had been his companion in Ermenon
no
d the tarpaulin.
he could steal: his arms and shoulders ached: sand grubbing had done t
Chu
soon men were yelling, talking, pushing,
s thr
k blared boogie-woo
read his
motor refus
rmed easily, and they rolled out of the gully, rolled across a flat of sand
leased Dennison: it was a pleas
e seat, the cushion solid. A shaft of light came in. The periscope was excellent. The viewer
against his Adam's apple, black, cancerous: his bal
tank rolled along, anothe
its size with the im
mb crater, flicked its fan
e as lonely as he: men riding inside noth
a knock in
range vibration
king sound in the
motor te
gan to
growing hot rapidly. Dennison mumbled to himself about the vents. The roaring of t
let up on acceleration but not before Z
cam
an's world, his years in Ithaca, at Cornell. The bronze figure of Ezra Cornell was hazed by leaves--then blurred by falling snow. He saw tree-fogged paths winding to his flat on the hilltop above Cayug
as co
ys, stead
rèse was dead, Uncle Victor, Landel and Zinc were de
wanted to close his fingers around a tangerine, strip the peeling, smell the strong smell. His mother used to buy tangerines at
jam, he wanted the r
p during the afte
thought,
Romance
Romance
Romance
Billionaires
Romance
Romance