Bell for Adano, A - John Hersey [46]
But it was not strange. It was very simple, really. It was typical of the way most honest Americans feel when they are abroad, and probably most Britons, and yes, probably most Germans and Japanese, too. It was a typical pattern of loneliness. Major Joppolo loved his wife. He missed her terribly. When, after many months, he found himself near a moderately pretty girl who was sympathetic to him, he found himself first excited by her prettiness; then he grew sad, and talked about the one he loved back home; then he was blackly lonely; then he caught himself thinking more and more often about the pretty one who was close by, and he was a little ashamed of thinking about her, and tried not to, but couldn’t help it.
Major Joppolo’s case was not as unique as he thought. He was just terribly lonely, and he was just behaving the way most men do in the face of such loneliness. (And Captain Purvis, who also had someone he loved back in the States, was behaving exactly like Major Joppolo: the only difference was the difference of his personality.)
And so it happened that the two dissimilar men went that evening to the house at 9 Via Vittorio Emanuele with very similar feelings of excitement and anticipation.
Major Joppolo and Captain Purvis caught the family of Tomasino by surprise that evening. The fat Rosa was sitting on the living room floor plucking a chicken, and there were feathers all over the room. The radio was on, and the two little daughters of the sister who was in Rome were sitting by it, also on the floor. Francesca and Tina were in brightly colored pajamas, lying on the floor side by side, reading together a cheap Italian romance called Un Cuore in Tre. Tomasino, who opened the front door, grimly led the two Americans into the room without any advance notice.
Everyone jumped up, the little girls squealing, fat Rosa calling the name of the Lord in English, and the big girls shouting greetings to the Americans.
Captain Purvis had not had a drop to drink, and was determined to be on his best behavior just to show the Major, but he couldn’t help saying, when he saw the girls in their pajamas: “All ready for bed, eh, girls? Well, let’s go, what are we waiting for?”
The family of Tomasino and their guests spent the next five minutes on their hands and knees picking up the chicken feathers. When that was done Rosa said to Tomasino: “Sad one, put the girls to bed.” Tomasino led the little ones out without gentleness. Rosa retired to the kitchen with the feathers and the bird, to finish her job.
As soon as the two officers and the two girls in pajamas were left alone, Tina said: “Mister Major, I want to talk with you,” and she stretched out her hand for his and led him into her bedroom. Captain Purvis’s sober shouts followed them this time: “Hey, don’t desert me. I can’t talk to this lovely thing. Where you going?” And he subsided with: “Oh-oh, you lucky bastard,” and settled down for an evening of desperate sign language.
Tina sat down on her bed and the Major sat down on a chair by a wooden dressing table.
“I want to ask you something, Mister Major,” Tina said.
“Yes?” the Major said. He did not know what to expect, but he expected it would please him, whatever it was.
“How long do you think the war will last? Here on Italian soil, I mean.”
The Major found that he was not pleased. “That’s a very serious question,” he said. “Let’s not talk about war. That’s all I have all day long, war, war, war.”
“But I have a special reason for wanting to know,” Tina said. “How long do you think it will last?”
“How should I know?” the Major asked. His voice was a little testy. “If I knew that, I would have to know a lot more about our plans for the campaign, and if I knew the plans, I would know military