Bell for Adano, A - John Hersey [43]
“I will be careful,” Cacopardo said, “but the informations is important.”
Major Joppolo made out a pass for Cacopardo and sent for a jeep from the motor pool.
Cacopardo stepped back, and raised his hand in a Fascist salute. Then, as his aged memory functioned, the hand wavered over to his forehead, and the salute became military. And he said: “Cacopardo is sulphur and sulphur is Cacopardo.” He turned on his heel, as militarily as he could, and marched out.
Between the Palazzo in Adano and the headquarters of the Forty-Ninth Division, in a villa beyond Vicinamare, old Cacopardo did not say a word to the jeep driver. He sat leaning forward against the wind, his goggles down over his eyes and his parasol straining over his head. The jeep’s windshield was down on the hood, with the canvas cover over it, as all jeep windshields should be where there is possibility of enemy strafing attacks, and so the wind was very strong. After a while old Cacopardo decided that sun was preferable to wind, and he moved the parasol down and held it in front of him, to fend off the wind.
The villa in which the Forty-Ninth Division was dug in for the time being had belonged to a friend of Cacopardo’s. Cacopardo and this friend had shared an interest in Italian furniture, and the old man knew the value of the things in this villa. The friend was dead now, but Cacopardo had a hard time remembering which of his friends had died and which were still living; he therefore thought of them all as living. It was easier that way.
Because he was entering the villa of his friend, whom he considered to be living, Cacopardo approached the gate in the spirit of a cordial visit, and he expected to be received cordially. He was in for a surprise.
Anyone who has never tried to see a general could not possibly know what Cacopardo’s reception was like. A sentry stopped him at the gate.
“Good morning,” said Cacopardo, as if addressing a butler at his friend’s door, “is my friend Salatiello here?” The sentry said: “Ain’t nobody here of that name as I know of. What is he, an M.P.?”
“What is these M.P.?” Cacopardo asked his jeep driver.
“Military Police,” the driver said.
“Military Police, indeed. He is prefect of Vicinamare and a collector of wooden curiosities. He is my friend. This is his house. Is he here?”
“Say, Buck!” the sentry shouted to a man lounging inside the gate. “Ever hear of a fellow round here named - what was that name again, Bud?”
“Signor Salatiello, he is my friend.” “Saladullo?”
“Hell, no,” Buck shouted back. “No one round here with a name like of that.”
“No one here that name,” the sentry repeated. Cacopardo said: “Then where is General Marvin?” M.P.’s are trained to be mysterious with strangers.
“Jeez, I can’t tell you that, Bud,” the sentry said.
“I have a paper to see General Marvin,” Cacopardo said, pulling out his pass.
“Oh, hell,” said the sentry, “why didn’t you say you had a pass? Sure, the General’s here.” And he shouted: “The Old Man’s in, ain’t he, Buck?”
“Yeah, I think His Nibs came in about half an hour »
ago.
“Yeah, he’s in,” the sentry said. “What you want to see him about?”
Cacopardo pulled out the tissue paper. “I can tell you where are the Germans,” he said.
“Right up there,” the sentry said, pointing up the driveway to the main door of the villa. “Right in that there door.”
The jeep drove up to the main door. There was another sentry there. When Cacopardo tried to go in, the sentry put his bayoneted rifle across the path. Cacopardo jumped back, alarmed. “I am no enemies,” he said. “I have the paper to see General Marvin,” and he stretched out the pass. Cacopardo learned quickly, for a man his age.
The sentry took the pass. “Brother, I doubt if you can see the General right now,” he said. “He don’t like to see no one in the mornings. You