Free Assignment Gestapo by Sven Hassel Page A

anyone but a blind man that you have been almost criminally negligent in this respect. I am not at all sure that it could not even be classed as active sabotage . . . However—’ He smiled and blew out a cloud of smoke. ‘In your case, I am prepared for the moment to be lenient and to take the view that it is more a question of fear and of personal cowardice that has led to this negligence on your part, rather than any deliberate attempt at sabotage. When a man’s nerve is gone, so I am told, he may well act in curious ways.’
    Lt. Ohlsen’s face grew slowly scarlet – with rage, not shame. His fists clenched at his sides and his eyes glittered with a moment of fury. But he was too experienced a soldier not to have learnt self control. One word from this clown Vergil and Lt. Ohlsen could well find himself a dead man, and while dying for your country might still have a certain tatty glory clinging to it, dying for a fool like Vergil was just plain idiocy.
    ‘I’m sorry about my uniform, sir.’ The Lieutenant spoke stiffly, through half-closed lips. ‘The Company was sent out on a special mission three and a half months ago. We’ve been in continuous action ever since. Only twelve men survived from the original company, so I think you’ll appreciate, sir, that in the circumstances none of us has so far had much of a chance to sit down and polish our equipment or mend our uniform.’
    The Colonel took another sip of wine and patted his lips with his white starched napkin.
    ‘Excuses are totally irrelevant, Lieutenant. Furthermore, I should wish to remind you that when being interrogated you do not speak unless a question is put to you. I did not put a question to you . . . Should you wish to make any sort of observation, you should request permission to speak in the usual way.’
    ‘Very well, sir. In that case I wish to request permission to speak.’
    ‘Certainly not!’ snapped the Colonel. ‘Nothing you say can possibly alter the facts. Get back to your Company and never let me see either you or your men in that deplorable state again.’ He paused, looked across at Ohlsen with a triumphant gleam in his eye. ‘I shall give you until 10 a.m. tomorrow, Lieutenant, by which time I shall expect the matter to have been attended to. I shall come round personally to inspect you at that hour . . . And, incidentally, that reminds me of another matter that should have had your attention by now. Those Russian prisoners you had with you – have you got rid of them yet?’
    Lt. Ohlsen swallowed, hard. He looked the Colonel straight in the eye.
    ‘Not yet, sir. No.’
    The Colonel raised an eyebrow. He sat for a moment, tapping the ash from his cigarette and gravely staring into the ashtray.
    ‘Sabotage,’ he said at last, in a low, intense voice. ‘Sabotage and insubordination . . . But after all, we are human, Lieutenant. We give you once more the benefit of the doubt. Possibly we did not make ourselves sufficiently clear in the first instance . . . ten o’clock tomorrow morning. Lieutenant. That is an order. I shall expect the prisoners to have been hanged by then. I look forward to receiving your report in confirmation.’
    Lt. Ohlsen licked his lips.
    ‘Excuse me, sir, but – I can’t just hang them – not just like that, in cold blood. They’re prisoners of war—’
    ‘Is that so?’ The Colonel seemed amused. ‘Whatever they are, Lieutenant, I believe that your first duty is to carry out the orders of your superior officers . . . not to question either the validity or the wisdom of those orders. I trust, for your own sake, that all is as it should be tomorrow morning.’ He waved his napkin as a sign of dismissal, turned back to the dinner table and picked up his glass. ‘Your health, gentlemen.’
    The seven elegant officers raised their glasses. Lt. Ohlsen turned abruptly and left the room. As he made his way back to the Company through the dangerous darkness, he prayed aloud to the Russians to