Comrades of War by Sven Hassel Read Free Book Online

did better. For now he was no longer correct, and he got plenty of confessions. A dictatorship can’t use correct people. What it wants is results.
    Ewald flogged the girl twice. Then he slept with her. Those who knew said he always did that.
    Next evening the girl went back to work at Aunt Dora’s. She took home thirty-five per cent of her earnings. Never again did she ask the Legionnaire to dance.
    Two ladies sat down by the Legionnaire. They were well-dressed, arrogant ladies, no common barflies. One of them gave the Legionnaire a quick glance. She crossed her legs and her skirt came up above her knee. There was a hint of a flaring white petticoat. The two ladies drank champagne. The best, they’d ordered. The Legionnaire lit a fresh cigarette with the butt of his old one and squinted at the champagne. Pointing at the filled glasses, he asked:
    ‘ Chateauneuf, est-il le meilleur? ’
    The ladies pretended they hadn’t heard.
    His face distorted with haughtiness and expectant victory, the Legionnaire bent over to the dark lady, called Lisa by her friend. The other’s name was Gisela. ‘How about a throw for a hundred marks?’
    The lady answered nothing, but her cheeks flushed. It could have been the champagne. The Legionnaire laughed. Aunt Dora stood with her back to the counter, but she could see the whole thing in a tiny mirror among the glasses. She laughed. I laughed. Bauer laughed. Tiny was drinking, cursing, and babbling wildly about girls.
    ‘Do you want to come upstairs and play a little? I’ll give you two hundred marks and a new pair of panties,’ said the Legionnaire in an undertone.
    Aunt Dora laughed over her bitters. With Danish schnapps she used only angostura. It cleansed the soul, she used to say. A pastor had once told her that her soul would be hard to wash clean. That’s why she drank the hot stuff.
    ‘You should be ashamed of yourself,’ Lisa said, turning the Legionnaire down. She had almost emptied her glass in one swallow. She must have done it by mistake; her friend Gisela had only sipped at hers. Laughing softly, the Legionnaire ordered a refill for her from Trude, a waitress from Berlin helping out Aunt Dora at the bar. He winked at her. Trude understood.
    Madame Lisa’s glass received a couple of dashes from a special bottle. Aunt Dora alone knew the contents of this bottle. Whatever it was, a few drops mixed in a girl’s drink always produced results. Lisa was completely unsuspecting and picked up her glass. Turning around from her glasses, Aunt Dora poured out a drink for the Legionnaire and told him, stressing every word: ‘You are a filthy swine. But good luck. Filth makes money, my boy.’
    The Legionnaire laughed.
    ‘Madame, four hundred down and new undies from France,’ he wheedled, then went back to blowing smoke rings.
    Trude moistened a perfectly clean glass with her breath and polished away as if trying to wear it out. A smile hovered about her lips. Like all of us she was excited, because she knew the Legionnaire couldn’t have anything to do with women and didn’t want to, either.
    ‘You’re repulsive,’ said Lisa, demonstratively turning her back on the cruelly grinning Legionnaire in his black panzer uniform with small silver death’s heads on the lapels.
    ‘ Sacre nom de Dieu! ’ the Legionnaire exclaimed, feigning surprise.
    Aunt Dora stuck a long cheroot in her mouth and turned to the Legionnaire. ‘Give me a light, you African bastard.’
    The Legionnaire obliged and rubbed his nose. ‘What d’you think, should I hire that lady for a turn in bed?’
    ‘Now shut up, you swine, and leave the lady alone. She wants none of you, and you of her. You know that well enough.’
    She sat down on a tall chair across from the Legionnaire, who turned again to Lisa. ‘You have beautiful legs, madame. Mon Dieu , you’ve got damn beautiful legs. I wouldn’t mind undressing you. Six hundred in cash if you’ll let me undress you! How about a dance,