Armageddon_ A Novel of Berlin - Leon Uris [79]
“Well, when you are ready for your doctorate you should be able to do a hell of a paper on military government.”
Sean laughed. “Probably not enough theory ... scholars are practical only when it doesn’t disturb theory.”
“Your three wishes are very simple. Have you ever thought about staying on in the Army? You’ve got a big rank for a young man.”
“I’ll stay on long enough to get my job done.”
“Done? But that may take twenty years.”
“I mean ...”
“You mean, complete the first phase in Rombaden.”
“Yes, sir, that’s what I mean.”
Hansen went through the business of finding and lighting a pipe. He longed for a chaw, but never chawed in the presence of a second party ... except his wife. “General,” Sean said, “you’re a lousy poker player. What is it that you really want to ask me?”
He put out a fourth match, waved away the billow of smoke. “I’m going to Berlin. I want you to come with me.”
“Berlin?”
“That’s right, Berlin.”
Sean collected his wits and asked shakily, “Is the General implying he wishes me to remain in the Army?”
“I am implying that his country needs him more than his mother and father or his own personal desires to find peace of mind.”
The blood drained from Sean’s lips. He tried to envision it. Berlin! A monstrous prison. The piles of rubble and the pall of gray devoured his beautiful green campus and the haunting lonely eyes of his father.
Sean shook his head slowly. “No, sir. I don’t want to go to Berlin.”
“Neither do I, Sean,” Hansen said with deliberate slowness. “I’ve been looking for peace of mind for thirty years. I don’t want to go to Berlin, either.”
“But my father!”
“Ask your father!” The general got to his feet and began to pace. “Oh Christ, yes. The campus is cozy and warm. A handsome Irish buck like you will go right to the top. Pat the ass of the president’s wife and smile with those big brown eyes and the world is yours by the nuts on a downhill pull. And think of the nice young stuff you can sort, stud, and train to your exact liking. Hell yes, Sean, anybody give up that green campus for a friggin’ rock pile like Berlin would have to be nuts. None of the ugly things like Schwabenwald and sick Germans and rubble to contend with. Just discuss them in a scholarly manner. No decisions to make there, lad.”
“Lay off, General. I don’t know why the hell I’ve suddenly become the indispensable man in the Army.”
“I’ll tell you why! America is committed to the world, only America doesn’t know it or believe it yet. We would all like to make a retreat to the campus, but the comforts of home and hearth are henceforth to be denied unborn generations if our country is to survive.”
“You are obviously speaking about the Russians.”
“You’re reading me loud and clear.”
“I’m not one of these automatic liberals who takes a fixed position, but let’s lay it on the line, General. You’re a Red baiter from the year one.”
“Hear me out and see if I’m a Red baiter.”
Sean had stepped into Hansen’s trap! What if Hansen proved his case? The general knew all along there were senses of duty and points of logic that Sean would respond to.
“I don’t want to hear it, General.”
“They have men of fanatical devotion beyond our comprehension of dedication. They have them by the hundreds of thousands who perform like robots. I lay awake nights in fear of a mortal weakness in us. I fear our sons are too fat, too lazy, too complacent to sacrifice and to serve in silence. It takes no genius to figure out what is going to happen in Berlin and there are too damned few of us willing to believe it or face up to the facts. Our country is asleep. Until it wakes up I need every Sean O’Sullivan I can get in Berlin if we are to survive.”
Sean was dumbstruck by the urgency of the outburst. Could he walk from this room now without even listening to the man’s case?
He nodded slowly for General Hansen to begin....
Chapter Thirty-five
GENERAL ANDREW JACKSON HANSEN first came into contact with the Russians at the close of the First World War in the year 1920. After the Russian Revolution and