My French Whore
Page 10
“Ten minutes,” I said.
Colonel Steinig glanced into the ballroom. He saw Annie looking for me.
“I knew you were a romantic,” Steinig said, “but this is beyond my imagination.”
“It’s not an extravagant request,” I said.
“No,” Steinig answered. “Under the circumstances— it’s not very extravagant.”
“NO!” Von Sieghardt said.
“YES, General,” Steinig said. “I think, yes.”
The general stared at Steinig, but Steinig stared right back.
“I really think so, Hermann. We need heroes right now.”
The general didn’t answer.
“Shall we go in, gentlemen?” Steinig asked. Then he put his arm around mine and led the three of us into the ballroom.
I think my absence for such a long time had Annie worried, but when she saw me the worry disappeared.
When I stood close to her she asked, “Now where were you?” the way she might have asked a little child who had stayed away from home too long. Tears came to her eyes.
“Why are you crying?” I asked.
“Because I love you, and I was worried that they wanted to send you on another assignment far away from me.”
I needed to hold her. I put my arm around her waist and began dancing to some ballad that the orchestra was playing. I think it was an American song, but I don’t remember the name.
“You look very handsome tonight,” she said.
“You’ve had too much Champagne,” I said.
She looked at my eyes, where she could always see what I was feeling.
“What were you thinking just now?” she asked.
“How happy I am to be with you.”
“Wouldn’t it be nice if we took a short holiday and drove into the country? Just the two of us?” she asked.
“Yes, that would be wonderful,” I said.
“... And we could stop at some little inn and drink the country wine and sleep under a fluffy quilt, with a small candle burning in the corner all night?”
“Yes.”
“Will you take me to France after the war?”
“Yes.”
“Do you promise?”
“If I can still dance and make love with you and drink ‘Sincere’ ... yes, I promise.”
“I’d like to live on a farm someday,” she said. “Maybe not all of the time, but for a while. Do you think you would like that?”
“Yes, I think I would.”
“Why are you leaving me?” she asked.
I tried to look away so that she couldn’t read my eyes, but she did see them.
“You have to leave, don’t you?” she asked.
“Yes, I do.”
“When?” she asked.
“Now.”
“It must be very important.”
“It is,” I answered.
“Will it be for long?”
“No ... I don’t think so. Not too long.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“No. Thank you. You’re always so kind.”
“I just want you to be happy,” she said. “And I don’t want you to worry about me. I’m sure you have enough on your mind. You are happy, aren’t you, dear?”
“Yes, I am ... very happy.”
TWENTY-ONE
VICTOR STEINIG ALLOWED ME TO GO TO MY room for a minute. I was accompanied by three guards. I picked up this notebook and my fountain pen and the package that I had wrapped my American uniform in. Then I was taken to an old jail in Karlsruhe. I think it was once a stable. It looked onto a large, open field, where I suppose the horses had been taken out to exercise.
My cell had a small table and a cot, plus a large pot for me to relieve myself in. A guard came into my cell and placed a pot of coffee and a cup on the table. I’m sure that was Colonel Steinig’s doing. As the guard left, he saluted me.
I wrote in my notebook until dawn. I certainly didn’t want to waste my last hours sleeping. It’s six in the morning now. To my surprise, Colonel Steinig came to see me.
“It’s chilly this morning,” he said.
I just nodded. I think he wanted to say something that sounded normal. He lit a cigarette for himself and then held out the pack to me.
“Would you care for a cigarette, Harry?”
The warmth in his smile came back when he thought he was talking to Harry Stroller again.
“No, thank you very much, Viktor—I don’t smoke.”
“Would you like me to have Annie brought here, so you can say good-bye?”
“Oh, no. Thank you, but no. There is one favor I’d like to ask.”
“Yes?”
“Would you please send Joseph to see me? ... my driver, Joseph Tausk? There’s something I’d like to give him.”
Viktor smiled.
“Joseph brought me here this morning. He’s waiting outside. I think he wanted to see you.”
Viktor motioned to one of the guards and told him to unlock the cell door. Viktor stepped out and spoke to his lieutenant, who was standing nearby. After a second or two, Viktor and Joseph walked into my cell.
“I’ll say good-bye, Harry,” Viktor said. “I’m glad that I had the pleasure of meeting you.”
As we shook hands, I said, “You’re a good friend, Viktor.”
He smiled, looking slightly relieved, called for the guard to unlock the cell door, and he left.
After he was gone I took Joseph’s hand. He looked terribly shaken at seeing me in jail. I’m sure he knew I was going to be shot in a short while.
“Joseph, would you do me a very great favor?” I asked.
“Of course, sir.”
I took my notebook and held it out to Joseph.
“Would you hand this notebook, personally, to Mademoiselle Breton?”
“Of course, sir,” he said. He was trembling a little.
“Good-bye, my dear friend,” I said, as I embraced him.
“Good-bye, sir,” he said.
I suddenly remembered something.
“Oh, wait! Joseph—excuse me—I need to write just one more thing.”
I tore out a piece of paper from my notebook and wrote one line. Then I placed it on top of the first page:
“My dearest... when I finally found you, I fell in love over my ears.”
NOVEMBER 28, 1918
Dear Captain Harrington:
Paul Peachy requested that whenever the war was over I should send this notebook to you. The only address he gave me was: Captain John Harrington, Rhinelander, Wisconsin. With all my heart I hope that it reaches you.
Sincerely,
Annie Breton
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
For whatever simplicity of language I’ve achieved, I thank my two mentors: Ernest Hemingway and Jean Renoir.