Read Online The Eldorado Network by Derek Robinson - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Derek Robinson
Tags: Fiction
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We knew exactly what was going to happen. The enemy was going to run like hell!
Luis felt his blood pulse faster, and his thigh muscles were tense with excitement.
Townsend flipped a page. 'What about support? Where was your covering fire?'
'All arranged.' Davis pulled the string through his mouth to straighten the kinks. 'Brigade HQ was sending tanks and artillery and bombers. French artillery, Russian tanks, Spanish planes. Solidarity, see? The people versus the fascists. We couldn't go wrong, could we?'
'Okay,' Townsend murmured. He was wondering if Davis would get into action before that bastard Summers came back. 'Okay. What next?'
'We charged.' Davis leaned back and rested on his elbows.
'You charged.'
'We charged and we charged and we charged, not very fast because most of us weren't very fit, and the ground was a bit rough. Also we hadn't had much sleep and no breakfast. If you want the truth, we charged bloody slowly. More of a limp, if you know what I mean.' Davis hooked the string behind his head and glanced seriously at the American. Luis moved to where he could watch the soldier better.
Townsend looked at his notes, looked at Davis, looked
at his thumb. 'And where was the enemy meanwhile?'
he asked.
'Meanwhile,' Davis said with a sudden, lunatic smile, 'meanwhile the enemy was lying doggo halfway down the hill and shooting his funny bullets at us with complete disregard for expense.'
'Which means you lost a few men.'
'We lost about two hundred.'
'What happened to your covering fire?'
'Never came.'
'So then you withdrew?'
'Some did. Most of us found a little rock to hide behind. Then they started dropping shells on us, mortar bombs, Christ knows what. And every time we twitched, some bastard had a go at us with his funny bullets. Later on, it got hot, blinding baking hot. A thing I've learnt,' Davis said to Luis, 'is you get twice as thirsty four times as fast when you're under fire. Promise me you'll never go into battle without a full waterbottle.'
'Certainly,' Luis said, nodding hard.
'None of us had water.' Davis turned back to Townsend.
'They hadn't given us canteens, see. There were a lot of wounded out there, too, all wanting water. Another thing I've learnt,' he said to Luis, 'is don't get yourself wounded on a hot hill. Much better to be shot dead and have done with it.' Luis nodded again. 'I think they all died in the end, Davis said. 'They all shut up, anyway.'
'What happened to you?' Townsend asked.
'I got back at night.' Davis stood up and began piercing holes in the top of the sandbag. 'Next day we attacked again and another two hundred got killed and that was just about the end of the battalion.'
'Two-thirds killed in twenty-four hours," Townsend said. Luis began to worry. Maybe this was not such a good story. Now Davis was poking the string through the holes and blinking a lot; whether from tears or from the effort of focusing Luis could not be sure.
Townsend went over to an observation slit and glanced out. 'I don't understand why you didn't just plaster this hillside with bullets,' he said. 'Hell, you had height and -- '
'Didn't I tell you about the rifles?' Davis cried. 'Our famous Russian rifles! They were not really meant to fire bullets, and they all broke. One thing I've learnt -- ' He turned to Luis, but Townsend got in first: 'But you had grenades, you said.'
'Did I? I wonder.' Davis closed the neck of the sack and knotted the string. 'I really wonder. Can you call this a grenade?' He took a short length of steel pipe from his tunic pocket. 'There's half a stick of gelignite in there. See the fuse? Now, watch this. As the enemy-rushes towards me I light the fuse, so.' He patted his pockets until he found a flint-and-steel lighter, the no-petrol kind used by Spanish-shepherds. It consisted of a steel wheel, a flint, and a length of yellow tinder-cord. Davis thumbed the wheel doggedly Sparks flew and died. 'Never mind,' he said, 'the fuse is probably too
Luis felt his blood pulse faster, and his thigh muscles were tense with excitement.
Townsend flipped a page. 'What about support? Where was your covering fire?'
'All arranged.' Davis pulled the string through his mouth to straighten the kinks. 'Brigade HQ was sending tanks and artillery and bombers. French artillery, Russian tanks, Spanish planes. Solidarity, see? The people versus the fascists. We couldn't go wrong, could we?'
'Okay,' Townsend murmured. He was wondering if Davis would get into action before that bastard Summers came back. 'Okay. What next?'
'We charged.' Davis leaned back and rested on his elbows.
'You charged.'
'We charged and we charged and we charged, not very fast because most of us weren't very fit, and the ground was a bit rough. Also we hadn't had much sleep and no breakfast. If you want the truth, we charged bloody slowly. More of a limp, if you know what I mean.' Davis hooked the string behind his head and glanced seriously at the American. Luis moved to where he could watch the soldier better.
Townsend looked at his notes, looked at Davis, looked
at his thumb. 'And where was the enemy meanwhile?'
he asked.
'Meanwhile,' Davis said with a sudden, lunatic smile, 'meanwhile the enemy was lying doggo halfway down the hill and shooting his funny bullets at us with complete disregard for expense.'
'Which means you lost a few men.'
'We lost about two hundred.'
'What happened to your covering fire?'
'Never came.'
'So then you withdrew?'
'Some did. Most of us found a little rock to hide behind. Then they started dropping shells on us, mortar bombs, Christ knows what. And every time we twitched, some bastard had a go at us with his funny bullets. Later on, it got hot, blinding baking hot. A thing I've learnt,' Davis said to Luis, 'is you get twice as thirsty four times as fast when you're under fire. Promise me you'll never go into battle without a full waterbottle.'
'Certainly,' Luis said, nodding hard.
'None of us had water.' Davis turned back to Townsend.
'They hadn't given us canteens, see. There were a lot of wounded out there, too, all wanting water. Another thing I've learnt,' he said to Luis, 'is don't get yourself wounded on a hot hill. Much better to be shot dead and have done with it.' Luis nodded again. 'I think they all died in the end, Davis said. 'They all shut up, anyway.'
'What happened to you?' Townsend asked.
'I got back at night.' Davis stood up and began piercing holes in the top of the sandbag. 'Next day we attacked again and another two hundred got killed and that was just about the end of the battalion.'
'Two-thirds killed in twenty-four hours," Townsend said. Luis began to worry. Maybe this was not such a good story. Now Davis was poking the string through the holes and blinking a lot; whether from tears or from the effort of focusing Luis could not be sure.
Townsend went over to an observation slit and glanced out. 'I don't understand why you didn't just plaster this hillside with bullets,' he said. 'Hell, you had height and -- '
'Didn't I tell you about the rifles?' Davis cried. 'Our famous Russian rifles! They were not really meant to fire bullets, and they all broke. One thing I've learnt -- ' He turned to Luis, but Townsend got in first: 'But you had grenades, you said.'
'Did I? I wonder.' Davis closed the neck of the sack and knotted the string. 'I really wonder. Can you call this a grenade?' He took a short length of steel pipe from his tunic pocket. 'There's half a stick of gelignite in there. See the fuse? Now, watch this. As the enemy-rushes towards me I light the fuse, so.' He patted his pockets until he found a flint-and-steel lighter, the no-petrol kind used by Spanish-shepherds. It consisted of a steel wheel, a flint, and a length of yellow tinder-cord. Davis thumbed the wheel doggedly Sparks flew and died. 'Never mind,' he said, 'the fuse is probably too
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