Free Wheels of Terror by Sven Hassel Page B

much fun with a padre. Most Ivans have a devilish respect for holy things. No sooner thought than done. I popped on the uniform and gave the padre mine, so he wouldn't offend anybody's modesty. But he looked indifferent and all my lice were sadly disappointed with his sour blood. When I gazed in the mirror I was very pleased with the handsome spectacle I saw. I looked so very good and godly with all that purple on the collar. The fine holy cross I had round my neck was just like a new decoration invented by fat Hermann. Yes, my dear children, you wouldn't have believed your eyes had you seen me as God's gospeller.'
    'We don't doubt that,' said The Old Un quietly.
    'To-day I owe the good God a great deal,' went on Porta. 'Because no doubt from him I got the holy inspiration to put on the dead padre's uniform.
    'Shortly afterwards Ivan was on top of me and before I could wink an eyelid I was dragged in front of their commander, a wild devil of a colonel with shoulder tabs as broad as a dining-table for a big family. He rolled his eyes like a cannibal and opened his wet gob in a roar: "By Satan in hot hell, if it isn't a padre-devil you've brought me, my lads! By all the little pink devils, how dirt-holy you are across there. Just as we have hanged our own pope for rape and are racking our brains how to get a new one, another one bloody well drops into our arms. Padre, will you be our pope or will you rather hang?"
    'I put on my most holy face and answered unctuously:
    '"Sir, I'll be your pope!"
    'At the same time I held the crucifix over his head and mumbled in the regulation fashion something like: " Cum spritu tuo , my little sucking-pig. I hope the smart boys at home are enjoying your wives, while you codfish are fighting for Uncle Joe." You should have seen his pious expression under my blessing. I changed the dead Nazi-padre's rags with his hanged Russian colleague's and looked mighty handsome. I got on famously with the whole mob; you see, lads, the most important thing for a padre is to drink well.'
    Porta stopped for a moment and had a good swig of the new bottle we brought out to replace the empty petrol bottle. This one carried a 'rifle oil' label. He belched a few times and went on:
    'Courageously steal, eat like a horse, love all pretty girls in the congregation and last but not least: play cards and cheat well according to rule. I was well up in all these essentials that make a good padre. You know that from experience.'
    He patted the pocket where he kept the money he had won at pontoon and grinned engagingly.
    'I got many friends, and was regarded as a particularly fine padre. In the evening I played cards with the colonel and the three majors and we all cheated so openly, even a babe-in-arms would have blushed. I remember one time particularly that makes me white with anger, and you know I'm not delicate. For a whole day we played gin-rummy without a single one of us managing to get an ace of spades home. We sweated like pigs as the pot for the ace of spades grew. It had grown into several thousand roubles; and then, just imagine, my lads, we discovered that the colonel, the swine, had been holding the ace of spades all the time. He now thought the pot big enough and was about to take the trick home. A terrible argument blew up, and if the creature hadn't called the guard we would have cut his liver out. But you'll admit it was a mean trick to cheat his subordinates, not to speak of me, a clergyman. And what do you think? The swine put us all in the nick. But after a quarter of an hour he joined us with the cards and some bottles of vodka. We forgave him and went on cheating each other, as is the habit when nice people enjoy themselves in the quiet of evening, when God's small stars wink and the moon shines like a drunk pig.
    'Then one day the divisional general paid us a visit to inspect the regiment. I had to put on a pretty little church parade. I got hold of a beautiful field-altar with a whole lot of fine