This work has worn well with me. It's not a story for everyone, to be sure, but it captures with humor and detail one of the informative early experiences of my adulthood. Excerpt (Bass is the protagonist, Amazon a bar girl):
Bass stayed outside The Family Club, watching the newk start up the road to the kaserne. While Buckley was still in sight, Amazon joined him.“You got zigarette?” she asked.Bass lit her one, passed it over and lit his own. They blew smoke in unison.“He said the Russians are invading Berlin,” Bass said.“You kidding, right?”“That’s what he said.”“How you say? Shit in the van.”“Shit in the van,” said Bass.“How come ve have no alert?”“I expect they’ll be calling one pretty damn quick.”A real alert, Bass thought, not the play-war game that periodically was part of their training. Every four to six weeks, an all-Europe alert would be called, scrambling all American military units to designated rendezvous locations. For Processing Company, this meant the linguists piled into trucks and drove down the hill, parking along Main Street in town while they waited for the all-clear signal, a wait that could last several hours. Since the alerts were usually called between three and five in the morning, the linguists who were not on trick were in bed and not happy to be charged into activity. Most slept in the back of their deuce-and-a-halfs until the all-clear signal was given.Bass remembered an alert that turned into a disaster and resulted in a reprimand for the entire company, which added to the linguists’ reputation of being clumsy, cowardly soldiers when compared to the real troops at Smith Barracks. Somehow, in the scramble to get out the fenced kaserne through the main gate, two trucks crashed head-on and their bumpers locked, blocking the gate for all the trucks waiting to exit behind them. Processing Company had no machinery for separating the trucks and human labor, such as it was, could not separate them, which meant the linguists could not drive down the hill to their designated area. A crane had to be fetched from Smith Barracks, which took several hours, and by the time the trucks were separated, freeing the gate to traffic, it was late morning. The alert wasn’t called off until noon because every soldier in Europe was waiting for the Russian linguists to reach their designated area. An investigation quickly identified the problem, Processing Company was given an official reprimand, and the Commanding Officer relieved of his duty. Not one of the linguists felt remorse, however, especially since the new C.O. was Capt. Pierce, a short timer who quickly gave the linguists more personal freedom than they’d ever enjoyed. The infamous alert had been a blessing in disguise.Amazon said, “I hear notting of dis.”Bass blew smoke.“Do you know who rented Sullivan and Heidi a room last night?”“Could be anyone. Jakob rents rooms. Isaac, Adolph. Many varmers rent rooms now.”“What time do the Animals usually come back to life?”“Late. Noon.”Bass looked at his watch.“I should be long gone by then,” he said.“No Denmark.”“No Denmark. If this is really happening, I expect an alert this morning.”“You no tink real?”“The newk may have got it wrong. Probably not. Wishful thinking.”“If Russians invade Berlin, vat Americans do?”Bass shrugged.“You stop dem, yes?”“I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
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