March Battalion by Sven Hassel Read Free Book Online Page A

and flung himself behind Little John. The Professor sank whimpering to the ground. Another wailing cry split the night in two. And then the Legionnaire began to laugh. A laugh of pure joy. I thought personally that his mind had suddenly gone.
    'By Allah!' He controlled himself at last and turned to the rest of us, trembling in our boots. 'It's a camel, you fools! A wild camel. His mates are probably somewhere round about as well.'
    Cautiously, still very much inclined to doubt his sanity, I stole forward with the others, gun at the ready. And there it was, before us. Unmistakably, and very disdainfully, a camel. As we watched, it was joined by two others and they stood shoulder to shoulder in the icy wind, regarding us with expressions of dislike.
    'My God!' exclaimed Steiner, taking a few brave steps forward. 'There are hundreds of the brutes out there.'
    'A herd of bleeding camels,' muttered Porta.
    'Dromedaries,' said Heide, in his usual self-opinionated way. 'They've got two humps.'
    That's what camels have,' said Porta.
    'Dromedaries.'
    'Camels.'
    'Dromedaries, I tell you.'
    'Oh, shut up!' yelled Porta, exasperated. 'Who the hell cares what the things are, anyway? What I want to know is, can you ride them?'
    'Of course,' said the Legionnaire, casually stroking the muzzle of the nearest creature. 'Didn't you ever ride on camels at the zoo?'
    'Dromedaries,' murmured Heide.
    'Camels,' said the Legionnaire. 'They come in both varieties. One-humped and two.'
    'And they live in Africa,' added Little John, wisely. Take a good look fellers - that out there, all froze over, is the Mediterranean!'
    The Legionnaire shook his head.
    'No such luck! You can find camels in other places besides Africa. You get them as far afield as China. This must be one area of the Caucasus where they breed. You know the Russians have whole divisions mounted on camels--'
    He broke off as a new and more alarming sight caught our eyes: three men, curiously dressed in a shabby assortment of kaftans and animal skins, were coming through the trees towards us. They stopped and smiled, then pointed to the west and began speaking in a language that appeared to have little in common with Russian. Heide reached automatically for his revolver, but the Legionnaire jerked it away from him.
    'Don't be a damned idiot! They're probably friendly; They might be able to help us.'
    Alte turned to the oldest of the three men.
    'Nzementz?' he asked,
    The reply was totally incomprehensible. Alte shook his shoulders and pulled a face.
    'Nix panjemajo.'
    'Germanski?'
    We hesitated, unnerved by the realization that they had somehow recognized us for what we were. Was it in their minds to hand us over to the Russians? Dressed as we were, we faced certain death if captured. The strangers laughed amongst themselves. They seemed quite disposed to be pleasant, although it was plain that Little John, twice as tall as any of them, with his battered face and broken nose, put the fear of God into them.
    They offered us some bread and goat's milk, and we in exchange handed over a packet of machorkas. They continued laughing happily. We laughed, too, for no reason at all save that such continuing merriment was catching. After a bit their leader made the discreet sign-language suggestion that we might have some spare vodka, and Alte obligingly handed over his own flask. The contents disappeared with the usual rapidity, and, obviously warming to us, the three men took Alte to one side and began gesturing energetically and speaking what seemed to be a pidgin version of their own language. They drew something indecipherable in the snow, pointing all the while to the west. Alte stared dubiously. Then one of them began running in circles, shouting 'Boum boum!' as he did so, and suddenly dropped down as if dead. Alte watched this performance two or three times, then obligingly nodded his head. The three men began laughing again. They certainly seemed to have a ready sense of humour, though what