Free Blind Date by Jerzy Kosinski

running away from them.”
    â€œRunning away, running away!” Barbatov shouted. “That’s all you Jews did for centuries. Even when the Jews in the ghettos finally rebelled and fought the Nazis, they knew they couldn’t win. They fought to bargain. You hear? Always to bargain.” Barbatov leaned down, his sweaty forehead nearly touching Levanter’s face.
    â€œThose Jews were all slaughtered, Captain,” Levanter explained patiently. He resumed his work on the papers in front of him.
    â€œSo they were. But even there in those ghettos, they traded, you hear, traded the gas chamber for a bullet, and death by a bullet was for them a better bargain. Again, the Jews got themselves a better bargain!”
    Levanter raised his eyes from the lists. “I have to finish my work now, Captain,” he said.
    Suddenly Barbatov smiled and said in a snide voice, “I should know better than to argue with one like you, Levanter. Forgive an ignorant peasant.” Then he went back to his quarters to sleep.
    Two months after Levanter was assigned to his office, Captain Barbatov received a special regimental citation for the great improvement he had made in the performance and discipline of the correctional unit and for his precise enforcement of prescribedregulations. Another month passed. As the training program became tougher because of Barbatov’s zeal, Levanter worked harder to soften the impact on the recruits, continuing to reduce the number of students reprimanded. But he worked in total secrecy.
    Many of the students, jealous of Levanter’s easy life and angered by his apparent complicity with the authorities, were hostile to him. They accused him of devising arduous training exercises while he himself did not take part in any of them. They blamed him for the deaths from overexertion of two students and for the unit’s inadequate medical care and lack of recreational facilities.
    Barbatov knew the students resented Levanter, and as he became more and more dependent on his aide-de-camp, he too became petulant and resentful. Often, when he was drunk, he would threaten to send Levanter back to the tent. Levanter did not take Barbatov’s threats seriously; it was obvious to him that the captain could not run the program alone, and that Barbatov knew it.
    One morning, Levanter was jolted awake before dawn by the sound of screeching tires. Seconds later, Barbatov barged in, wearing a helmet and a camouflage coat. A submachine gun dangled from his shoulder, and two heavy antitank grenades hung from his belt. Levanter rose from his bed as Barbatov marched around drunkenly, searching the room as if for missing evidence. Suddenly his eye fell on a dirty napkin lying on the floor. With a menacing glint in his eyes, he turned to Levanter.
    â€œWhat is this? A restaurant? A hotel?” he screamed, gesturing toward the napkin, his face reddening with fury. “Clean up this mess. Now!” he bellowed. Levanter jumped forward and bent down to pick up the napkin, but Barbatov shoved him aside. “Not with your hand! Push it to the wall with your circumcised prick.” His words were slurred, his voice thick with vodka. Pretending not to understand, Levanter stood at attention. “I said, clean up this garbage with your stub of a pecker!” Levanter did not move. Barbatov clenched and unclenched his hands. “Refusing to obey an order? Then I want you in full attack gear. On the double!”
    Levanter dressed under Barbatov’s scrutiny. There was hardly time for him to button his pants or lace his boots. He grabbed hisrifle and pack, clipped on the spade, and sprang to attention.
    â€œTo the jeep,” Barbatov commanded.
    When they reached the training range, correctional-unit recruits were scattered all over the pitted terrain. Barbatov ordered all platoons to assemble along the obstacle course for a training demonstration. He shoved Levanter out of the jeep and