A New Kind of War

Russians . . . and Germans, too – politicals and the like . . . and even the odd Englishman and American, by courtesy of the Gestapo. But most of them were Jews. And as young David here has no doubt reminded you so tactfully, Mr Levin is a Jew.’

He cocked his head slightly. ‘An acting Warrant Officer, Class I, late Queen’s Own South London Rifles. Holder of the Distinguished Conduct Medal.

Religion, Jewish. Do you see?’

‘Yes – ’ All this time, though really without consciously thinking about it, Fred had been conditioned by Amos de Souza’s languid Brigade of Guards drawl, pink complexion and pale-brown hair.

But, however English and C of E he was now, his dummy4

ancestors could well have been Portuguese immigrants, as Jewish as the original Italian Fattorinis ‘ – I see, yes.’

‘Do you?’ De Souza’s mouth twisted slightly. ‘Our much-esteemed Brigadier, whom you did of course meet so briefly in Greece . . . he has ordered us to cultivate a proper soldierly sense of detachment, if not proportion, now that it has fallen to us to obtain particular Germans, safe-and-sound and in mint condition for his collection. But that is more difficult for some than for others ... so I would appreciate it if you exercised a certain tolerance –toleration? – with regard to Mr Levin’s irascibility, Freddie ... d’you see.’

Fred nodded. ‘Yes, sir. Point taken.’

‘Excellent.’ De Souza smiled at last. ‘ Now . . . what I have done in your case, Freddie ... so that you can maybe make up for lost hours of sleep on the way north, to our home billet, is to give you both Captain Audley’s private transport and Captain Audley’s favourite driver, whom you know – who collected you at the airfield, indeed: Driver Hewitt, no less . . . And you, young David, for your sins . . . you will reinforce Corporal Keys’ escort, when the CO is finished with you – okay?’ De Souza shared his gentle smile between them. ‘Whilst I . . . I will attend to the undoubted disagreement which is almost certainly even now developing between Mr Levin and Herr Schild over the contents of Herr Schild’s three-tonner – ’ The dummy4

last words were delivered over de Souza’s shoulder as he departed ‘ – and you may both wish me the best of British luck, for I shall need it.’

Fred watched the adjutant’s departing back (which, irritatingly, was still immaculately-pressed, battle-dress blouse pleats and trousers separated by a newly blancoed belt with glittering brasses, in spite of their wet and disastrous night and an uncomfortable morning). Then he heard Audley stuttering beside him.

‘What?’ He had to be ready for the boy’s recriminations.

‘I s-said “b-b-b-bullshit” .’ Audley got it out at last.

‘What?’ It irked him that Audley presumed to criticize a better man.

‘ Bullshit? Having mastered the word once, the boy repeated it vehemently. ’He was rotting you – about Busy-Izzy . . . bullshitting you, Amos was — Amos, of all people! God! It makes me sick, I tell you!‘

‘Why should he do that?’ All Fred wanted to do now was to find Driver Hewitt, not explore David Audley’s juvenile prejudices.

‘God knows! Guilt, most likely – ’

‘Guilt?’ In spite of his preoccupation with trying to spot his driver among the vehicles, Fred caught up the word. ‘Guilt?’

‘Oh yes – guilt.’ Audley nodded. ‘There’s a lot of it dummy4

about, since they found the camps. But it takes different forms with different people. We had some chaps who just wanted to shoot up the Germans indiscriminately – not just the SS and Gestapo, but anything that moved. Made ’em feel better, apparently.

But Amos isn’t that sort, of course.‘

Fred frowned. ‘But he’s not ... Jewish?’

‘Amos? Good Lord, no! Amos is RC – high class old Catholic. Talks about “taking mahss” , and all that.’

Audley grinned momentarily, but then erased the grin quickly. ‘With some of them – like the Crocodile – it’s guilt because they know they’re actually anti-semitic themselves, basically. So they have to take a hard line now, because they’ve a sneaking suspicion that if God had made them German they might have ended up with two lightning flashes on their collars. But with Amos . . . with him I think it’s the feeling that we ought to have done something more positive to stop it.

Or maybe he thinks the Pope should have done something – I don’t know . . . But he did once say – to the Old Croc, he said it, too – “We are to blame.

Perhaps even more than the Germans themselves” – I heard him say it.’

It was a novel concept of war guilt, thought Fred. ‘How are we to blame, David?’

‘God knows! He clammed up after that. So you’d better ask him, old boy.’ Audley shrugged. ‘But what I dummy4

know is that Busy-Izzy was a bad-tempered, officious, bullying, d-d-double c-c-c-crossing, 24-carat shit long before we crossed the Rhine – long before he and the CO went in to Belsen, not to put too fine a point on it.’

He fixed an eye on Fred suddenly. ‘And don’t get any ideas about me being anti- semitic. Because I’m bloody-not!’ The brutal chin lifted. ‘My regiment had Jews in it – including a damn-good full- back named Isaacs, who got his silly head blown off in Normandy, as I told you – didn’t I – ?’ Audley blinked at him, and then shook his own unblown-off head and bared his teeth. ‘I did! But that doesn’t mean I have to be nice to Mister Levin . . . who is one of God’s – or Jehovah’s –

Gadarene Swine.’