Read Online Rigadoon by Louis-ferdinand & Manheim Celine - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Louis-ferdinand & Manheim Celine
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bandages or cotton . . . ha! surprise! upstairs in the stationmaster's office . . . Harras had brought a whole carload of infirmary supplies . . . ready for use . . . Kracht would bring them down . . .
"Ja! ja! ja!"
But Sister Félicie wasn't ready . . . first she had to tidy up her coif! . . . Harras had thought of that too! upstairs! iron, ironing board, wood for the stove . . . and she'd be alone, the station-master and switchman had left for the Western front . . . I notice that Harras has lost his big laugh, his ho ho ho! . . . he wasn't sad, but he didn't laugh any more . . . plenty of things I wanted to know . . . I'd have liked to talk to him . . . we waited, sitting in the straw . . . and then we lay down . . . waiting for Sister Félicie . . . I think . . .
I heard another train . . . choo! choo! . . . slow down and stop . . . another fish train? . . . could be . . . and then a lot of soldiers . . . boots and clanking metal . . . guttural orders and counter-orders in German . . . didn't bother to open my eyes . . . what for? . . . assembling outside the station? . . . must be . . . and inside the waiting room there were other noises, these people lying there . . . snoring and grunting . . . and groaning . . . some of them must have been in bad shape . . . it wasn't the Nietzschean system like up there in Rostock, selection by frost, but it probably came to the same thing . . . I'd have bet that every three or four days somebody came to pass them in review . . . these men sprawled in the stations . . . and take the stiffs away . . . there were pits . . . a lot died in transport . . . hemorrhages and gangrene . . . inevitable, coming all that way . . . from this front, that front . . . days and nights flat on the straw, no nurses, no dressings . . . anyway, we were getting a rest . . . Le Vig, Lili, and me . . . not sleeping, no! . . . but comfortable . . . plenty of straw! . . . oh, not easy in our minds! . . . even Bébert in his musette bag was on the qui-vive, not purring at all . . . hard to know what was what . . . with all those noises! . . . which ones had anything to do with us . . . two more . . . there I was sure . . . Harras and Kracht outside . . . I knew them by their step . . . they were looking for us . . . right! . . . it's them! . . . they step over the bodies . . . Harras locates me . . . he lights me up with his torch . . .
"Destouches! . . . Destouches! . . . something! something important for you! . . . for all three of you . . . definitely!"
I pull myself out of the straw, so does Le Vig, so does Lili . . .
"I've taken the liberty, Madame . . . you'll forgive me, Madame? . . . important for you . . ."
We listen . . . he talks in a booming whisper . . .
"The French government has left Vichy . . ."
"No!"
"Falling back on Sigmaringen° . . ."
There he's got to explain . . . Sigmaringen? in Germany? . . . certainly! . . . in Germany! but way in the south! . . . near the Swiss border! . . .
I see Le Vig change color . . . he's been pale, practically in a faint . . . now he flushes purple . . .
"Ah, Ferdie! . . . Ferdie! saved!"
He's shouting . . .
"Not so loud, Le Vig! we'll see when we get there!"
"We leaving? When?"
"Yes! . . . yes!"
Le Vig is out of control. . .
"Say . . . we'll be going home . . . to France!"
Me lying down, him on his feet, I can't see him very well . . . the room's dark . . . but I hear him all right . . . Kracht and Harras light us up . . . he's jumping up and down . . . in between the bodies . . . this way . . . that way . . . stepping over them . . . he's out of his nightmare now . . . he sees himself in Switzerland . . . practically home in Montmartre . . .
I calm him down.
"Le Vig, pal, it's not over yet! Listen to Dr. Harras! . . . stop shouting! this place is full of stoolies! they're all over! Didn't you know that? . . ."
Harras interrupts me . . . he takes a rubber stamp out of his pocket . . .
"Here! . . . Look!"
We examine it . . . no
"Ja! ja! ja!"
But Sister Félicie wasn't ready . . . first she had to tidy up her coif! . . . Harras had thought of that too! upstairs! iron, ironing board, wood for the stove . . . and she'd be alone, the station-master and switchman had left for the Western front . . . I notice that Harras has lost his big laugh, his ho ho ho! . . . he wasn't sad, but he didn't laugh any more . . . plenty of things I wanted to know . . . I'd have liked to talk to him . . . we waited, sitting in the straw . . . and then we lay down . . . waiting for Sister Félicie . . . I think . . .
I heard another train . . . choo! choo! . . . slow down and stop . . . another fish train? . . . could be . . . and then a lot of soldiers . . . boots and clanking metal . . . guttural orders and counter-orders in German . . . didn't bother to open my eyes . . . what for? . . . assembling outside the station? . . . must be . . . and inside the waiting room there were other noises, these people lying there . . . snoring and grunting . . . and groaning . . . some of them must have been in bad shape . . . it wasn't the Nietzschean system like up there in Rostock, selection by frost, but it probably came to the same thing . . . I'd have bet that every three or four days somebody came to pass them in review . . . these men sprawled in the stations . . . and take the stiffs away . . . there were pits . . . a lot died in transport . . . hemorrhages and gangrene . . . inevitable, coming all that way . . . from this front, that front . . . days and nights flat on the straw, no nurses, no dressings . . . anyway, we were getting a rest . . . Le Vig, Lili, and me . . . not sleeping, no! . . . but comfortable . . . plenty of straw! . . . oh, not easy in our minds! . . . even Bébert in his musette bag was on the qui-vive, not purring at all . . . hard to know what was what . . . with all those noises! . . . which ones had anything to do with us . . . two more . . . there I was sure . . . Harras and Kracht outside . . . I knew them by their step . . . they were looking for us . . . right! . . . it's them! . . . they step over the bodies . . . Harras locates me . . . he lights me up with his torch . . .
"Destouches! . . . Destouches! . . . something! something important for you! . . . for all three of you . . . definitely!"
I pull myself out of the straw, so does Le Vig, so does Lili . . .
"I've taken the liberty, Madame . . . you'll forgive me, Madame? . . . important for you . . ."
We listen . . . he talks in a booming whisper . . .
"The French government has left Vichy . . ."
"No!"
"Falling back on Sigmaringen° . . ."
There he's got to explain . . . Sigmaringen? in Germany? . . . certainly! . . . in Germany! but way in the south! . . . near the Swiss border! . . .
I see Le Vig change color . . . he's been pale, practically in a faint . . . now he flushes purple . . .
"Ah, Ferdie! . . . Ferdie! saved!"
He's shouting . . .
"Not so loud, Le Vig! we'll see when we get there!"
"We leaving? When?"
"Yes! . . . yes!"
Le Vig is out of control. . .
"Say . . . we'll be going home . . . to France!"
Me lying down, him on his feet, I can't see him very well . . . the room's dark . . . but I hear him all right . . . Kracht and Harras light us up . . . he's jumping up and down . . . in between the bodies . . . this way . . . that way . . . stepping over them . . . he's out of his nightmare now . . . he sees himself in Switzerland . . . practically home in Montmartre . . .
I calm him down.
"Le Vig, pal, it's not over yet! Listen to Dr. Harras! . . . stop shouting! this place is full of stoolies! they're all over! Didn't you know that? . . ."
Harras interrupts me . . . he takes a rubber stamp out of his pocket . . .
"Here! . . . Look!"
We examine it . . . no
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