Free Rigadoon by Louis-ferdinand & Manheim Celine

see . . . a snow plow every mile . . . all the Berlin-Stettin traffic, civilian, military, refugees . . . takes that road . . . Moorsburg-Baltic too . . . Harras had told me about those little Tartar horses . . . special for sleighs . . . I see them there, ready harnessed . . . all shaggy and bearded . . . but to tell the truth they look more like children's ponies than far-north teams . . . snow trotters . . . they've all come from Stettin . . . they'll find their way all right! . . . Harras gives up . . . Stettin is still deaf . . . anyway Kracht is all in . . . his tongue's hanging out . . . our antenna stops crackling . . .
    "Noch! noch!"
    It's no use . . .
    "Nun! nun! lasse! Never mind, forget it!"
    Kracht flops down off the seat . . . he lies down in the snow . . . dead to the world . . . the intrepid cyclist! . . . we leave him, we go see the others . . . all ready to leave . . . the Sister has changed their dressings . . . not a stump showing, everything covered with gauze and cotton and bandage . . . all swaddled, heads, bodies, legs, you'd think they were masquerading as Tuaregs . . . and so happy! . . . I guess the sleigh appeals to them, and going so far . . . and having their Sister back again . . . they won't be going fast . . . five days to Stettin, so they say . . . a soldier leads both teams . . . two horses . . . by the bit . . . on foot and armed, hand grenades and carbine . . . I see they've got this thing organized . . . relay stations all along, so it seems . . . up there in Stettin the depot . . . and the leper hospital . . . not in the city itself, the last village . . . our Proseïdon, I can see, isn't enthusiastic . . . he doesn't protest, but he'd rather stay with us . . . he's had ten years of sleighs, he knows . . . and lepers . . . he'd be glad to go with us, any direction, especially south! . . . but his travel orders say Stettin! . . . he's not protesting, but he's pretty glum in his way . . . I mean, even more retiring than usual . . . he lines up his lepers and leads them to the sleighs . . . he helps them in, the Sister too, they're all nicely seated: good-bye! he says . . . and we answer: au revoir! . . . au revoir! . . . the two sleighs jolt . . . and slide . . . they're off! . . . the road . . . it'll take them at least four days . . . they're not waving . . . neither the lepers nor the Sister nor Proseïdon . . .
    Fact is, we never saw them again . . . or heard any news . . . of them or the leper hospital . . . or of Stettin . . . I've asked here and there . . . people who said they'd been there . . . seems that towns and villages have changed their names . . . and the inhabitants have gone away . . . I'd have to go see . . . fat chance!
    So the three of us, Lili, me, and Le Vig, get back in our "fish train" . . . same compartment . . . our two soldiers haven't budged, they're waiting for us . . . Harras fills us in some more . . .
    "You'll have to walk a way, half an hour, from the locomotive depot to the Anhalt station . . . the two soldiers will stay with you."
    "Splendid, dear Harras! . . . God help us! . . . and heil Hitler!"
    We shake hands, hard . . . he kisses Lili . . . he kisses Bébert . . . and there we are! . . . yes, we're kind of sad underneath . . . a feeling that we won't be seeing each other in a hurry . . . Kracht full length in the snow panting . . . panting . . . he looks at us . . .
    "Good-bye, Kracht!"
    "Heil! heil! Doktor!"
    He's been a good egg too . . . mean . . . yes, he had to be! . . . we're sorry to leave him . . . wonder what's become of him . . . we knew him well. . .
    Oh, but our "fish train" is moving . . . never expected it! . . . choo! choo! skidding . . . let's go! another good-bye to Harras . . . and Kracht . . . that's all . . . I never saw them again . . . nor Proseïdon, nor the Sister, nor whozis up there, the Nietzschean of Rostock . . . nor his natural selections . . . in the Superjets people don't lose one another, three hours to New York