Bell for Adano, A - John Hersey [81]
All but two of the workmen reported back to work. One was the stranger, who had disappeared. The other was the lazy Fatta. He had had enough for one day.
Chapter 28
“OH dear,” said Private First Class Everett B. Banto, clerk in A.P.O. 917, in a second floor room in one of the annexes of the Saint George Hotel in Algiers.
He was reading somebody else’s V-mail letter, the envelope of which was open. Private Banto was a mail clerk. He had also been a mail clerk in Greenton, Vermont, before the war. Even in Greenton, he had been very concerned about the way America was behaving herself in the world.
“Oh dear,” he said, “I don’t see how we’re ever going to win the war.”
“What’s itching your pants now?” said Sergeant Walter Frank, another clerk, who was reading somebody else’s copy of Collier’s.
“Listen to this,” said Private Banto. “It says here: `Why the hell do we have to give the Frogs and the Limeys and the Chinks all the stuff we make? Seems to me we’ve played Santa Claus long enough.’ Oh dear.”
“Christ almighty,” said Sergeant Frank, “what’s a matter with that? God, it makes me vomit to see these Frenchmen driving all over the place when my folks at home can hardly even drive to the A. & P. to get their food.”
-”Walter, that’s not a very good attitude, is it? We won’t make many friends in the world that way.” “Well, the hell with ‘em.”
“Goodness, Walter, that’s a selfish way to talk.” “I say the hell with ‘em.”
Private Banto put the V-letter back in its envelope, .and put the envelope in its proper cubbyhole. He picked up one of the mail pouches frnm the frnnt cut the wire binding and began to sort the contents, most of which consisted of tempting memoranda, not enclosed in envelopes.
“Gosh, Walter,” he said, “we Americans certainly go in for a lot of paper work. Look at this stuff from the front - from the front, where they’re supposed to be fighting. I don’t see how we’re ever going to win the war.
Sergeant Frank, who was trying to read a story, said testily: “So what the hell’s the matter with a little paper work?”
“And look at this. Gosh, but we’re inefficient. Look here, this is supposed to be addressed to someone in the 49th Division which is over there, and it’s from someone else in the 49th Division, right there too, and they sent it all the way back to Algiers. Isn’t that terrible?”
“Oh yes, it’s just terrible!” said Sergeant Frank, imitating Private Banto’s voice.
“Well, what should I do about it, Walter?”
“You can jam it up your ass for all I care,” Sergeant Frank said harshly.
“Why, Walter,” Private Banto said. When he had recovered from the shock, he said: “Seriously, Walter, what should I do with it?”
“Well, if it don’t look important, you can throw it in. the dead letter basket, that’s what we usually do.”
“You couldn’t do that, Walter.”
“Hell you couldn’t. You just said yourself there’s too goddam much paper work. What the hell’s one paper more or less?”
“It might be important.”
“Well, look at it. What the hell is it about?”
“It says: `For information. Re carts, Adano.’ And then it has something about an order that General Marvin issued, and then apparently a certain Major Joppolo countermanded the order, or something.”
“It’s about General Marvin? Throw it awayl That sonofabitch.”
“Oh no, I wouldn’t dare.” And Walter put the memorandum in the pouch to go back to the front.
“Now don’t bother me,” Sergeant Frank said. “I’m reading.”
Private Banta kept on sorting. “Oh dear,” he said in a few minutes, “listen to this, here’s a thing about a captain that’s being sent back because of behavior unbecoming to an officer. I don’t see how we’re ever going to win, dear me.”
Chapter 29
MAJOR JOPPOLO showed up at the Navy Club for his drink at exactly six ‘clock.
There were about twelve officers sitting around in the upstairs room of the villa that Lieutenant Livingston had fitted up as a club. There was