Mila 18 - Leon Uris [221]
Beneath him the Germans took the Jewish Militia toward the Umschlagplatz and Treblinka.
Andrei licked his lips. He sighted “Gaby,” the Schmeisser, on Sieghold Stutze’s heart. “Ah,” he whispered to himself. “What a lovely, magnificent target. So full of nice plump syphilitic blood.” He clenched his teeth, pulling his itching, wiggling finger off the trigger.
The Fighters strewn out above Zamenhof Street looked down on their tormentors, gnawing pains of restraint holding them from unleashing their wrath.
“Look at that juicy Austrian. Ah, Stutze ... Will I ever get such a lovely shot at you?” Andrei half cried to himself. “What a goddamn war!”
“Hello, Jerusalem,” Wolf Brandel said. “The Angel from Lebanon advises us that the Rhine Maidens have taken Korah and Absalom into Egypt. They are boarding the train for hell. All is clear.”
As the tail end of the German force disappeared out of the Stawki Gate, the hands gripping the guns and grenades and bottle bombs relaxed and their bodies slumped in exhaustion, drained by tension.
A waving of signal flags, rooftop to window, window to rooftop to street. A scampering of the runners. “All is clear.”
The generator in Mila 18 sputtered and spun into life. The lights flickered on. The children in Majdanek, lying tightly against Deborah on the floor, resumed their reading game and Rabbi Solomon lifted the chant of his prayer and Moritz the Nasher cut the double deck of cards for another round of sixty-six and Alexander wrote down the notes in the journal.
Simon Eden was doubled over the desk with exhaustion. Andrei came in and slammed him across the back. “Simon! Did I have that syphilitic Austrian in my gun sights! I ached from head to toe to blast his head off. What discipline! Not a whisper up there! Not a sign. Not for a single second did Stutze know he was under our guns! Simon! Simon! By God, we have an army!”
Simon nodded weakly.
“You know,” Andrei whispered confidentially, “I will wager anything you own that we can hold them for a week.”
Chapter Nine
OBERFÜHRER FUNK ARRIVED IN Berlin somewhat regretful that he had allowed Horst von Epp to muddle his thinking. It was preposterous to suggest a new set of tactics for the liquidation of the ghetto. He should have followed orders and returned with heavily armed men the day after the January 18 act of banditry. But it was too late. He had no choice. When Funk proposed Von Epp’s theory of pacifying the Jews he was chagrined that Himmler thought it an excellent idea. In fact, it was so well received that Funk took full credit for thinking up the entire scheme.
In Berlin, problems were cropping up everywhere. The shock of the catastrophe at Stalingrad rocked the High Command, which was now facing a mammoth Russian winter counteroffensive.
In North Africa, Rommel’s magnificent Afrika Korps was engaged in furious actions with the ever-strengthening Allied Forces. A second disaster seemed in the making.
Italy was all but militarily impotent. One could smell that Italy was about to defect politically, as well.
In the air, the Luftwaffe had failed in its mission to crush the morale of the dogged Englishmen, and now all of England was being transformed into a gargantuan air field poised to return German bombs tenfold.
In the Pacific, the Americans had wrested the initiative. They seized island after island, which the Japanese had been certain was beyond the stamina of the American fighting men. The Japanese had not reckoned the extent of the uncommon valor of the United States Marine Corps.
Throughout the German Empire one could sense the restless awakening of the conquered. Despite brutal reprisals for underground activities, secret armies continued to grow. Indeed, Yugoslavia was gathering a force potent enough to divert badly needed German divisions off the eastern front. The policing of Greece and Poland required men and arms needed elsewhere.
To a lesser degree, sabotage, assassination, harassment, espionage flared