At Close Quarters by Eugenio Fuentes Read Free Book Online

fine,’ he replied.
    Fifteen minutes later he walked into his office in the main wing of the San Marcial base. He sat at his desk and went through the points of the report he would discuss in a few minutes. He remembered all facts and figures, all useful and redundant details. Nobody would put forth an argument he couldn’t firmly refute. It was a foregone conclusion. He was closing the folder when there was a knock on his door.
    ‘Come in.’
    ‘Do I have your permission, sir?’
    It was one of the Latin American soldiers who, over the past few years, had enlisted in the Spanish army in order to get Spanish nationality. His accent sounded incongruous in someone wearing the same uniform as him. At first, Olmedo too had looked down on them and demanded from them double the effort, but he had ended up getting used to these dark-skinned guys with their strong teeth, stiff black hair, and short statures who, when they eventually swore allegiance to the flag, shouted the patriotic slogans with as much fervour as the natives.
    ‘Come in,’ he repeated.
    ‘The colonel would like a word with you.’
    ‘I’m coming right over.’
    Colonel Castroviejo’s spacious corner office, at the end of the hall, was lit by two large windows; one gave on to the entrance of the base and the other to the training field where parades, ceremonies and official acts took place, an esplanade closed off on one side by cement stands which made it look a bit like a football stadium.
    ‘May I come in, sir?’
    ‘Please do, Olmedo.’
    The colonel did not move to greet him. He stayed with his backturned, looking out of the window at a company of soldiers doing exercises on the pitch. With his hands behind his back, he stooped forward slightly, appearing older than he was. Olmedo knew how much the colonel was disconcerted by the tremendous speed of the modern world, its confusing international conflicts without defined combat lines, and the new wars against invisible enemies hidden among civilians. He suspected that, in some way, the colonel blamed him for being complicit in those changes. On his desk was one of the two copies Olmedo had made of the report. The other was in Madrid.
    ‘I’ve reread your papers carefully,’ said the colonel.
    Olmedo noticed the scornful nuance.
    ‘I should congratulate you on a job well done,’ continued the colonel, ‘except that your conclusions are not to my liking.’
    ‘I’m afraid there was no other …’
    ‘I know, I know,’ he interrupted sharply. ‘I know you were following orders. And orders are given to be obeyed; the army is not a democracy. It’s not me you’ll have to convince of simply having carried out a technical commission. I don’t agree with your premises, but, at least in public, I won’t oppose them. Don’t worry, I won’t raise any objections at the meeting.’ He paused and then, as though he’d thought it through, but wasn’t too sure how appropriate it was to say it, added: ‘Today no one can say that the Spanish military is not disciplined. Not once have we spoken out in protest, in spite of the victims we’ve had in the last few years … as a consequence of the civilians’ deficient administrations. I won’t speak out now about a matter of lesser importance.’
    ‘Thank you, sir.’
    ‘You’re aware you’ll make enemies?’ the colonel asked, turning to look fixedly at Olmedo, his eyes slightly blanched by age.
    ‘I am, but I have them already, sir.’
    ‘But this won’t just be professional rivalry. Some will be personally affected, and will see your report as an offence. Others will even think of the word humiliation. And all of them will feel like a band of veterans sent away from the city walls on the basis thatthey will be better defended by new weapons mounted on the tower keep,’ he added, using one of those examples of old military strategy that he liked to quote in public.
    ‘But no one’s leaving them outside the walls,’ argued Olmedo. ‘They