ERNEST HEMINGWAY - Premium Edition. Ernest HemingwayЧитать онлайн книгу.
and talked and shot sparrows with an air-rifle when they perched in the triangle cut high up in the wall of the barn. The barn was gone now and one year they had cut the hemlock woods and there were only stumps, dried tree-tops, branches and fireweed where the woods had been. You could not go back. If you did not go forward what happened? You never got back to Milan. And if you got back to Milan what happened? I listened to the firing to the north toward Udine. I could hear machine-gun firing. There was no shelling. That was something. They must have gotten some troops along the road. I looked down in the half-light of the hay-barn and saw Piani standing on the hauling floor. He had a long sausage, a jar of something and two bottles of wine under his arm.
“Come up,” I said. “There is the ladder.” Then I realized that I should help him with the things and went down. I was vague in the head from lying in the hay. I had been nearly asleep.
“Where’s Bonello?” I asked.
“I’ll tell you,” Piani said. We went up the ladder. Up on the hay we set the things down. Piani took out his knife with the corkscrew and drew the cork on a wine bottle.
“They have sealing-wax on it,” he said. “It must be good.” He smiled.
“Where’s Bonello?” I asked.
Piani looked at me.
“He went away, Tenente,” he said. “He wanted to be a prisoner.”
I did not say anything.
“He was afraid we would get killed.”
I held the bottle of wine and did not say anything.
“You see we don’t believe in the war anyway, Tenente.”
“Why didn’t you go?” I asked.
“I did not want to leave you.”
“Where did he go?”
“I don’t know, Tenente. He went away.”
“All right,” I said. “Will you cut the sausage?”
Piani looked at me in the half-light.
“I cut it while we were talking,” he said. We sat in the hay and ate the sausage and drank the wine. It must have been wine they had saved for a wedding. It was so old that it was losing its color.
“You look out of this window, Luigi,” I said. “I’ll go look out the other window.”
We had each been drinking out of one of the bottles and I took my bottle with me and went over and lay flat on the hay and looked out the narrow window at the wet country. I do not know what I expected to see but I did not see anything except the fields and the bare mulberry trees and the rain falling. I drank the wine and it did not make me feel good. They had kept it too long and it had gone to pieces and lost its quality and color. I watched it get dark outside; the darkness came very quickly. It would be a black night with the rain. When it was dark there was no use watching any more, so I went over to Piani. He was lying asleep and I did not wake him but sat down beside him for a while. He was a big man and he slept heavily. After a while I woke him and we started.
That was a very strange night. I do not know what I had expected, death perhaps and shooting in the dark and running, but nothing happened. We waited, lying flat beyond the ditch along the main road while a German battalion passed, then when they were gone we crossed the road and went on to the north. We were very close to Germans twice in the rain but they did not see us. We got past the town to the north without seeing any Italians, then after a while came on the main channels of the retreat and walked all night toward the Tagliamento. I had not realized how gigantic the retreat was. The whole country was moving, as well as the army. We walked all night, making better time than the vehicles. My leg ached and I was tired but we made good time. It seemed so silly for Bonello to have decided to be taken prisoner. There was no danger. We had walked through two armies without incident. If Aymo had not been killed there would never have seemed to be any danger. No one had bothered us when we were in plain sight along the railway. The killing came suddenly and unreasonably. I wondered where Bonello was.
“How do you feel, Tenente?” Piani asked. We were going along the side of a road crowded with vehicles and troops.
“Fine.”
“I’m tired of this walking.”
“Well, all we have to do is walk now. We don’t have to worry.”
“Bonello was a fool.”
“He was a fool all right.”
“What will you do about him, Tenente?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can’t you just put him down as taken prisoner?”
“I don’t know.”
“You see if the war went on they would make bad trouble for his family.”
“The war won’t go on,” a soldier said. “We’re going home. The war is over.”
“Everybody’s going home.”
“We’re all going home.”
“Come on, Tenente,” Piani said. He wanted to get past them.
“Tenente? Who’s a Tenente? A basso gli ufficiali! Down with the officers!”
Piani took me by the arm. “I better call you by your name,” he said. “They might try and make trouble. They’ve shot some officers.” We worked up past them.
“I won’t make a report that will make trouble for his family.” I went on with our conversation.
“If the war is over it makes no difference,” Piani said. “But I don’t believe it’s over. It’s too good that it should be over.”
“We’ll know pretty soon,” I said.
“I don’t believe it’s over. They all think it’s over but I don’t believe it.”
“Viva la Pace!” a soldier shouted out. “We’re going home!”
“It would be fine if we all went home,” Piani said. “Wouldn’t you like to go home?”
“Yes.”
“We’ll never go. I don’t think it’s over.”
“Andiamo a casa!” a soldier shouted.
“They throw away their rifles,” Piani said. “They take them off and drop them down while they’re marching. Then they shout.”
“They ought to keep their rifles.”
“They think if they throw away their rifles they can’t make them fight.”
In the dark and the rain, making our way along the side of the road I could see that many of the troops still had their rifles. They stuck up above the capes.
“What brigade are you?” an officer called out.
“Brigata di Pace,” some one shouted. “Peace Brigade!” The officer said nothing.
“What does he say? What does the officer say?”
“Down with the officer. Viva la Pace!”
“Come on,” Piani said. We passed two British ambulances, abandoned in the block of vehicles.
“They’re from Gorizia,” Piani said. “I know the cars.”
“They got further than we did.”
“They started earlier.”
“I wonder where the drivers are?”
“Up ahead probably.”
“The Germans have stopped outside Udine,” I said. “These people will all get across the river.”
“Yes,” Piani said. “That’s why I think the war