Red Love by David Evanier Read Free Book Online Page B

life.
    Whenever they heard a cry, Sammy and the other survivors tried to locate the man and drag him in. But many of them were too weak to carry the stretcher cases. “Look,” Sammy said, “two of you guys take a wounded man between you and let your body heat try to keep him warm.” They crawled under the blankets of the wounded to give them warmth and protection from the rain until the stretcher-bearers came,
    The stretcher-bearers arrived at daybreak, when most of the wounded were dead.
    Before they arrived Sammy and the others took their little half-tents (they hadn’t had time to build them) and put them over themselves. There were no holes to crawl into. They passed out on the ground.
    They awoke at daybreak and peered over the top. Dead bodies were strewn everywhere in the trenches.
    Sammy passed out the remaining food and cognac.
    The surviving eighty men made a mass grave for the dead. They dragged the bodies from the trenches onto a spur and placed rocks and earth on top of them.
    The dead were not counted or identified.
    Sammy looked around at the furious faces. There was only one officer left, Stern, who had been a sergeant in the U.S. Army. Sammy went over to him. “Kuznekov, don’t come near me. I don’t want any command here. From now on I’m just a plain fucking soldier. Because this is a slaughter that no army would permit and I don’t want any part of it. So I’m just a soldier, man.”
    Sammy led the men to the first-aid station, a kilometer behind the lines. A group of Russian cavalry, former Cossacks with lances, approached them.
    Sammy said in Russian, “Devil take you, why are you pointing lances at us?”
    “Oh!” the first man said. “He’s one of ours.”
    He said to Sammy, “We’ve received orders from the brigade to bring all of you in.”
    They were taken to the brigade in the field. Most of the men were so exhausted they lay down on the ground. Sammy and eight others stood. Pohoric suddenly appeared with General Krauss, a German.
    “You Americans are a goddamn disgrace,” Pohoric said in English, and added in German to Krauss: “They’re nothing but shit.”
    Speaking in Russian, Sammy said, “Comrade Commander, that isn’t true. Do you know that we’re the only remnants of the entire battalion?”
    “Well, it’s too goddamn many,” Pohoric said. “You guys came here to play with your social theories about revolution. You don’t even know basic principles. Soldiers must learn how to die! And I’m going to teach you, friends. I’m making an example of you.” He turned to Krauss and said, “Arrest all the men who are standing.”
    The men were taken to the wine cellar. Sammy and the eight other men were separated from the others and locked up. Exhausted and almost delirious, most of them screamed with delight when they saw the huge jars of wine. They drank and laughed and reeled and threw up. Sammy did not drink. He sat silently in a corner.
    General Krauss came down to visit them. Krauss was a typical German military officer: tall, very well built, and clean cut, with glasses. He stood straight as a ramrod. He greeted the nine men with a smile. He handed them a pack of cigarettes.
    Sammy refused.
    “How come?” Krauss asked.
    “Young Communists don’t drink, smoke, or screw around,” Sammy said, looking at him steadily.
    “Oh,” Krauss said. “I see.”
    Krauss paused. “Remember, whatever happens, be proud.”
    He turned to the others and added, “You will all be sentenced to death. And I wanted you to know that this is nothing personal. This will be an objective trial. In fact, I can personally assure you that the balance of your subscriptions to the Daily Worker and other progressive literature will be transferred to your families in the States.”
    The men had stopped drinking. It was very quiet in the room. Krauss continued. “Listen, this is a revolutionary necessity, so please act correctly. Be solid Communists.”
    As there were no questions,