“General, we need medicine badly. Our troops—and particularly our civilians—are suffering from all manner of illness. We haven’t been resupplied since before the war; that’s …” he thought a moment, “over two years ago.” He stopped to let that sink in.
“I was sent to try to find a supply ship flying a neutral Danish flag for cover that was, no, is, supposed to pull into one of your many small, secluded coves. We were going to steal a couple of wagons and hoped to pass as British troops. We didn’t think Portuguese soldiers would challenge us. We didn’t know the British were already here.”
“You weren’t captured by the British. You were captured by Portuguese troops. You didn’t fool anybody!” The general shook his head. “What a foolish plan. You had ten-to-one odds of succeeding. And now you all will be charged with spying, and the price of spying is, well, you know what the price is. The British will probably be here tomorrow. As we are allies with the British and the British have overall command, they will convene a military court. It will take less than an hour. The sentence will be carried out immediately after. I wish there was something I could do.” He crushed out a cigarette that had been smoldering in an ash-filled bowl.
“I’ll end up in that blockhouse if I do anything,” he continued, “and the whole colony will suffer.”
They looked at each other, the general thinking what a fine soldier Markus was. There will be thousands of fine young men that will die in this war, some from this colony. What is one more death? But I know this man, a fine man … and he will die for what, for wearing another nation’s uniform? Or to get medicine, or whatever the true story is? I escaped death back home in Portugal. Now this captain hopes to escape death here.
Markus sat patiently, watching. The general shook his head slightly. Markus noticed the moment.
Albuquerque called out, “Corporal!” The door opened. “Take the captain back with the others.”
Back with his troops, Markus sat down on the dusty floor, and in a level voice, he said, “We’ve got to bust out of here, or it’s over for us. When the British arrive here in a day or two, they’ll try us as spies, and that will be it. Anyone have a plan?”
There was no reply.
“I really thought the general would be sympathetic.” Markus thought about it for a moment and added, “Well, actually he was sympathetic, but he can’t do anything on our behalf. It’s up to us.”
“We could jump the two guards who bring us food. That would get us at least through that door.”
Markus looked at his companion who had spoken and countered, “Then what?”
“Then we take their guns and make a break for the horses.” He was looking at Markus.
Markus replied, “Remember when they feed us? It’s during the busiest time of the day; everyone’s up and around. Getting horses out of this fort in daylight is impossible. There’s got to be another way.”
Everyone was silent, exchanging smokes, and resting as best each could on the hard floor. Rudy, one of the five, lying on his back trying to relax, was talking to one of his companions: “It would be nice to see the snow again in the Alps. That’s what I think about a lot … hiking in summer and still seeing the snow way high in the mountains.” He swung his arm up, “I’m saying way up in the—” He stopped. He was staring up at the ceiling.
“Look up there!” he said.
His companion looked up. “So?”
Rudy got to his feet and was straining his neck, looking up. No one else paid attention to him.
“It’s made of wood … timbers and cross boards looks like. And there’s light coming through over on the edge.” The ceiling was at least eighteen feet off the floor. “If we could get up there, we could maybe knock some of them loose. What do you think?” His companions looked up also.
“Ja, but how are you going to get up there? Even the tallest two of us, standing on shoulders, couldn’t come near reaching the ceiling.” The others stirred on listening to the conversation.
Rudy spoke again, with an edge of excitement in his voice: “Rainer, remember our gymnasium classes when we built the pyramids? The human pyramids? Maybe we can do that here.” Markus got up, and the other three followed.
“What’s this pyramid talk?”
“Rudy’s got this idea that we could build a human pyramid and bust through the ceiling.” Everyone was looking at Rainer. One spoke up, “But we need more men to build one tall enough to reach the ceiling.”
“No, no, wait,” Rudy replied as he walked to the corner of the stock room with his back against the corner of the wall.
“We can use the two walls to substitute for the four men who’d normally be on the bottom of the pyramid. If we have just two men on the bottom and then one man on their shoulders, then another man on his shoulders, and then the lightest of us on his shoulders, we can reach the ceiling!” Rudy was pacing in a circle, looking up. Everyone else was looking up, too.
“I think you’ve got something there, Rudy!” Markus said.
Someone asked, “But will the guys on the bottom be able to support the three on the top?”
Another voice, “Let’s try it!”
“First, who’re the heaviest two men here? Ja, Ja, you two, into the corner, backs to the two walls. Plant your feet apart. That’s right. Now, who’s next?”
Everyone looked at each other.
“We’re all pretty much the same,” someone said.
Markus came forward. “I’ll be the next one up, then you, and finally you, Rudy. You’re the lightest one here.”
The dimly lit room had no windows. The light from under the big wooden door and traces of light piercing down from cracks in the wooden ceiling were all the illumination they needed.
“Take your boots off.”
“Ja, ja.”
All but the two bottom men took off their cavalry boots. Those two men cupped their hands in front of themselves as steps to their shoulders.
Markus came forward. “Steady, men, ready?”
He stepped into the cupped hands. They gave him a boost, and he was up. He gingerly turned around, one foot on each man.
“Good, good. Next!”
The fourth man of the five put his foot into the cupped hands. He had also to stand on the shoulders of the two bottom men. They held firm. Markus cupped his hands in front of himself and the fourth man slowly shifted his weight to one foot while lifting his leg to put his foot into Markus’s entwined fingers.
“Wait, wait! Not yet! Is everyone ready?”
Every man in the pyramid let out a Ja.
The fourth man slowly shifted his weight into Markus’s hands. “Easy now … Take your time,” He rose as Markus lifted his cupped hands to chest height. Markus could feel him slowly step onto his shoulders, one foot at a time. The fourth man’s legs were trembling as he pressed himself against the walls.
“I’m good. I’m good!” he said as sweat beaded on his forehead. Markus had his hands up, griping the two trembling legs of the man above him.
“OK, Rudy, your turn,”
The man who thought up the idea stepped toward the bottom of the human pyramid. “When I get to the top, I may have to push up. That’s going to put pressure on all of you, so be ready,” Rudy started his climb.
“Slowly, slowly … Slow down!” Everyone was tense and straining and sweating. Rudy was up, with his face inches away from Markus’s. “Ease your foot in … a bit higher. That’s it,” Suddenly, the top man shouted, “Coming down!”
It was as if he had stepped back from the wall into space. He fell feet first, straight down, knocking Rudy off balance and out of Markus’s cupped hands. Markus, destabilized, knew he was going to fall and pushed off from the shoulders he was standing on, in a leap that cleared him of the two others sprawled beneath him.
Rudy tumbled and rolled—just as he was taught in the gymnasium. Markus also broke his fall by rolling halfway across the blockhouse floor. The fourth man came straight down. It was a ten-foot drop onto a
stone floor. The three fallen comrades got up quickly, with number four limping around the room.
“I’ll be all right. I’ll be all right. Just got to walk it off.”
Everyone gathered around him. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, yes, it’s nothing, really.”
They all sat down with their backs to the wall, the smell of sweat permeating the still air. Number four rubbed his ankle.
Markus suggested, “Let’s think this through. The pyramid collapse was just an accident. I still think this could work. We just have to be more careful. How was the load for you bottom guys?”
“We’ll have sore shoulders, but we can handle the weight, right?” He was looking at his companion.
“Ja, ja, no problem.”
Rudy raised an essential question: “How are we going to get everybody up there, if we actually break through the roof?”
They all looked at Rudy and then at Markus.
“We don’t have a rope or anything to make one with,” Markus concluded. “If we did have a rope, our top man, Rudy here, could tie it around that timber up there. Do you see it? There’s some space between it and the roof. I saw it while I was climbing. We’ve got to figure out how to get us all up there before we risk our necks climbing again.” Markus said in frustration.
“Ja, but how?”
Several men had stretched out and were dozing. The only real moveable object in the storage room was a slop bucket for the men to relieve themselves in. Several hours passed with a bit of small talk and a bit of sleep.
“Maybe we should go back to the idea of breaking through the door.” The suggestion was met with silence.
The quiet was broken when the guards banged on the door. “Your food. The five of you stand against the far wall,” ordered the corporal.
The captives complied, and the door opened slightly. One of the guards peered in.
“All clear!” The door swung open fully, revealing four rifles with bayonets pointing into the room. The soldiers came into the room slowly, followed by two others carrying a large basket with three bottles of wine, several loaves of bread, cheese, and boiled eggs. The other soldier spoke as he put down a covered soup pot and five spoons: “General Albuquerque insisted you get a nice meal.”
The guard glanced around. “Why you have your boots off”?
“To rest our feet, why else?” someone said hastily. The guards backed out, and the sound of a heavy bolt and lock could be heard.
All five Germans descended on the basket, the wine, the bread, and the soup. Fortunately, someone had uncorked the wine, so it was easy for the five to pass the bottles around. They all sat down around the soup pot and dipped in with the extra-large serving spoons that came with the pot.
“Good, very good. These Portuguese eat well here.” After everyone had his fill, not a crumb was left.
The soldiers were again stretched out on the floor, exchanging escape ideas. One of the group sat on the slop pot in the far corner of the room, doing his business. Army life had conditioned men to ignore the unpleasant bodily needs of each other. After only a casual glance by Markus, caused Markus to sit up and stare at his ‘potted’ companion.
“What are you looking’ at? Christ!” the soldier muttered. The others looked at him and then at Markus.
“That’s it! That’s what we need. That’ll be our rope!” Markus blurted out.
“What? What rope?” someone asked, looking back and forth between the two men.
“His pants!” Markus pointed toward his unfortunate companion. The pot sitter looked down between his legs at the crumpled up pants at his feet.
“What?”
“We take all our pants and tie them together, leg to leg … They should reach to the ceiling … or from the ceiling to the floor, I mean.” Markus got up and turned to the group. “That’s how we get everybody up!”
The pot sitter got up and pulled up his pants.
“No. Wait!” Markus exclaimed.
“Ja, so, everyone take off your pants. We have to test the strength of our breeches.” Everyone got up and hesitated a moment and then started unfastening their belts. “You two, tie your pant legs together; we’ll do the same.” In short order, five cavalry breeches were strung together.
“Now what?” someone asked.
“Its tug-of-war time, gentlemen. Two on one side and three on the other.” Both teams had to back into opposite corners to give them room to stretch their “rope.”
“Now, start easy. No jerking.” They all leaned into opposite directions.
“That’s quite a strain on the seams, but they’re holding,” number four grunted.
“Good, that should do it. Now, it’s back to pyramid building.”
After several more attempts and another collapse, the group finally reached the ceiling. Rudy brought up one of the big spoons and was using it to pry loose the few rusty nails holding the overlapping boards together.
“I’m going to push now. Get ready.” The four beneath him braced as best they could.
One of the bottom supporters blurted out between clenched teeth, “Hurry up!”
“How long can you hold?” Markus asked.
“Two minutes!”
“I got it! I got the board loose. Working on the second.”
“Hurry up, for Christ’s sake!”
“OK, Rudy, stop work. Come down.” Coming down was as dangerous as going up, maybe more so. All the men were strained to the limit. Rudy made it down in seconds, almost sliding past his companions. All of them again sprawled out, sweating, on the cool stone floor.
“Good, very good,” Markus gasped. “Next time, we take our ‘rope’ up.”
After fifteen minutes of rest, Markus was about to order the men up for another try. They all heard it at the same time: The door bolt scraping, metal against metal.
“Everyone against the far wall!” The guard shouted. In a panic, everyone looked to Markus, but Rudy quickly said, “I’ll play sick on the pile of pants!” He quickly gathered the tied-together breeches and lay on top of them, hiding as best he could the knotted parts.
The door opened far enough for one guard to peek in. “Why’s he on the floor?”
Markus spoke up, “He’s sick. I told him not to eat so much. You were too generous in giving so much food … He wouldn’t stop eating. We told him.”
The guard withdrew his head, and the five could hear the guards talking outside the door. The door creaked as it swung open. Bayonets again protruded into the supply room jail. The guards slowly entered the gloomy space, especially particularly alert.
“Why you have your pants off? Keep your backs to us!” One of the guards came over to Rudy and lightly kicked his leg.
“You sick?”
Rudy just mumbled and moaned.
“Why you have your pants off?” The lead guard shouted in anger.
“We were just having fun, grabbing each other, just horse play, till Rudy got sick. Then we let him lie on top of our pants till he feels better.” Markus hoped the thin story would work.
“Horsy play? Grab each other?” The lead guard looked back and forth between Rudy and the four standing there in their briefs. “This is filthy game … You all going to hell tomorrow.” He motioned for his troops to gather up the basket, bottles, and the pot. They left quickly, with disgusted looks on their faces.
Number four was the first to break out in deep, throaty laughter. The others joined in the hysterics. “He thought we were grabbing our privates!”
They all continued enjoying the deception till Markus motioned to quiet down, lest the guards return. “Ja, back to work now, while we still have some light.”
The pyramid went up, and then Rudy went up, and before long, he was through the roof. An opening of two feet by about four feet let in the dimming light of dusk.
The plan was to tie the “rope” to the wooden beam next to the hole in the roof. After this was done, the pyramid came back down. The bottom breeches leg dangled five feet
from the floor.
“Perfect!” exclaimed Rudy. All the men were pleased at their success and showed it with grins all around.
“What did you see outside when you stuck you head out, Rudy?”
“Nothing, except the walls of the fort and the distant landscape. This blockhouse is just about the height of the outer walls. No one was on the ramparts.”
“Good. We don’t want to stay here any longer then we have to. I suggest we wait another fifteen or twenty minutes for darkness before we go up.” Everyone nodded in agreement. While waiting, each pair of boots was tied together with a short strip of cloth torn from shirts. The boots were swung around the neck, leaving hands free for climbing.
“It’s time.” Without a word, Rudy led the group to the rope. They formed the pyramid one last time, with the exception that Markus said he would be the last up.
Rudy shimmied up the last four feet of rope and was soon lying flat on the roof, looking down the hole. The next man on the pyramid had a longer climb up the rope but was soon lying next to Rudy. Markus had replaced one of the bottom men and tilted his head so he could see the third man scramble through the hole with the help of willing hands pulling him up.
Just two men remained on the blockhouse floor. Markus cupped his hands so his companion could step in, and with a boost, he was on Markus’s shoulders.
“Up you go,” Markus said. The man grabbed the rope and went hand over hand as he “walked” up the wall.
He reached the top and grabbed the timber holding the rope just as a sharp “bang” rang out. Markus immediately thought it was a gunshot. In a second, he realized the timber had snapped. The men on the roof lunged for their friend. Too late! He plunged backward toward the floor, bringing a cascade of roof boards behind him, trailed by the descending rope. He fell without a sound, his back arched, head first, toward the stone floor, just missing Markus.
He landed with a sickening smack as his skull split open, followed by a clatter of boards piling around and on top of him. The rope, pulled by the beam, fell into a pile on top of the grisly scene. The men on the roof, one of whom almost fell in, stared in disbelieve.
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph!”
The Storm That Shook the World Page 23
