by Per Wahlöö
Major Niblack: This Stoloff, was he a Bolshevik?
Velder: Excuse me, what? Don’t know. I mean I don’t know what he was then. He was a building technologist. A powerful man with curly hair, not very tall. Aranca, Edner and Stoloff looked at the map together and calculated that Oswald had control over about sixty per cent of the island, while we still held thirty-five per cent of the area. Then, when the demarcation line was drawn, it turned out that those figures were a little more advantageous. We had in fact thirty-eight per cent against their sixty-two. There was a brief discussion on the prospects and then everyone agreed that the most important thing was to get people and barbed wire and other things that could be used as barricade material quickly to the line about five kilometres beyond the border of the province where the troops seemed to have set up their most eastern support-posts, their chain of outposts, as Stoloff called them. We also agreed that we had too few people and arms to risk an attack at once. Stoloff said that he had questioned Colonel Fox—he lived on for three or four days, although he was severely wounded—and other officers and thus had got a clear picture of the real strength of the Army in both military areas. He said he was convinced that Oswald would never dare make a serious advance towards Ludolfsport until he had reinforcements. Aranca Peterson asked where those reinforcements were to come from. It was Janos Edner who answered her: ‘There are bound to be far too many people who’d like to send regular troops as so-called volunteers to Oswald’s assistance.’ Then Stoloff said: ‘We can get that kind of help, too. And we’re going to need it.’ That was the first discussion on that subject. In the morning, the Army’s emergency depôts were found and opened. They turned out to contain ten times as many weapons and ammunition as had been thought. So now at least two-thirds of the people who wanted arms could have them. And Stoloff told us that stores of building materials were considerable. At about ten, Joakim Ludolf came, and then there was a council of war.
Captain Schmidt: We’ll stop there for a moment, Velder.
Major Niblack: Why didn’t the General put the Air Force in at once? When I was in Africa and South-East Asia, we nearly always used almost solely planes, both against guerillas and the civilian population. Not high explosives or atomic weapons. Gas and napalm. And rapid-firing weapons, of course, against built-up areas and crowds of civilians. It had a devastating effect on morale. If you can talk about morale in such circumstances, of course. Ha ha.
Commander Kampenmann: There were no effective planes at the time.
Major Niblack: Planes are always effective. In themselves, they have an effect on morale which is certainly not to be despised. A matter of environment, the feeling the person on the ground has of being controlled from a higher level, purely physically, I mean. I often think about, for instance, why we and many other countries use mounted police to control crowds. It’s hardly just tradition.
Colonel Orbal: What?
Major Niblack: Good God, of course not! How many people today have ever heard of a troop of Cossacks? Not one in a thousand, I’m sure. And even fewer know enough about the phenomenon to feel traditional respect for a mounted authority. No, believe you me, it’s something quite different. And yet a mounted policeman for instance in a crowd is very easy to render harmless if you know the trick. You just have to cut through his reins with an ordinary penknife. But how many people think of that? No, this really is quite a different phenomenon, as I said. In the same way, in Africa, I once scattered a whole column of infantry, well, Negroes or Arabs or some other sort of natives of course. Wogs, as we called them. Scattered them, made the unit ineffective, to put it briefly. The men just threw away their arms and ran. And what do you think I had? Well, a perfectly ordinary recce plane. Unarmed. Hardly even paraffin in the tank, either. That’s where the psychological element comes in.
Major von Peters: This is meant to be a court martial. We’re in session.
Major Niblack: Yes? Why do you say that? As if I didn’t know. I’ve been court martialled myself once, as a matter of fact. Low flying over some kind of animal breeding station, a mink farm. Ten thousand of those mink died, just imagine, ten thousand. Had heart attacks or went mad with fright and bit each other to death. Animals, of course, but exactly the same phenomenon, if you analyse it more closely.
Major von Peters: What were you going to say, Schmidt?
Major Niblack: Found not guilty, of course. Do you know what I did? Ha ha. Rang up that animal farm and asked if there were at least a couple of pelts left over for my wife. The idiots rang up my general and complained. He nearly died laughing. After that, it became quite a sport in the squadron. Frightening mink and foxes and musquash and God knows what else to death.
Colonel Orbal: What? What did you say? I don’t understand a thing.
Captain Schmidt: Excuse me for interrupting. This so-called council of war that the accused mentioned is not accounted for or described in any other version except his own. Nevertheless it seems beyond all doubt that it actually took place and that it had the greatest significance for both what happened later and for Velder’s future criminal activities.
Major von Peters: Just one moment. I’d like to answer that question that Niblack asked a little more thoroughly. We were very short of operationally effective planes at the time of the outbreak of the disturbances. But the General actually sent two of our recce planes over Ludolfsport on the thirteenth of December to see what the situation was.
Major Niblack: Yes. I thought so. You see, yet more evidence that as long as you’ve got planes, almost any kind of plane … do you know, I’ve been involved in spreading terror and destruction with almost anything that can fly, from old air-buses of corrugated iron to small fire-protection planes which looked like farm wagons …
Major von Peters: One moment. Both those planes were shot down. From the ground. Do you remember, Mateo?
Colonel Orbal: I certainly do.
Major von Peters: Then we didn’t have any more planes. Perhaps you’d be so good as to keep your mouth shut now, Niblack. Go on, Schmidt.
Captain Schmidt: Velder.
Velder: I didn’t hear.
Captain Schmidt: Velder, were you present at this meeting which you called a council of war, then?
Velder: Yes. In the afternoon, after Ludolf had come. We met at the harbour offices. First we’d listened to both Oswald and Haller speaking on the radio. They assured us that the situation was under control and complete calm reigned, but that the state of emergency would be continued until the Reds—that was us—had been smoked out of their holes in the Eastern Province. Edner and Stoloff had got some information from various individuals, some who had fled from Oswaldsburg and some who had left Marbella by sea. And what they said seemed to confirm what we were afraid of; the Army had the situation under control except at our end of the island. What did you want me to tell you about?
Captain Schmidt: The council of war.
Velder: Who was there? Janos Edner, Aranca Peterson, Joakim Ludolf, Stoloff and myself. And Dana. She served as a sort of secretary. And Gaspar Bartholic was there too. That was the first time I’d met him. He had known Edner and Ludolf for a long time, I think, but had lived in different places abroad. He’d come over with Ludolf, because of the war.
Major von Peters: I refuse to accept that expression.
Velder: Excuse me. What?
Captain Schmidt: I have made comprehensive efforts with Velder during the last few days. In a case such as this, one in which he thinks ‘the war’ but means ‘the disturbances’, it is pointless to try to correct him. When you’ve corrected him several times, he loses the thread and it is impossible to continue. So may I recommend the presidium to ignore such details.
Commander Kampenmann: Yes, that seems the only sensible thing to do.
Major von Peters: Do we really have to put up with anything just because that swine happens to be weak-minded?
Major Niblack: I must say I understand practically nothing at all of this. And I must say the
accused looks absolutely damned awful. What’s he been up to? But I like your tone, von Peters. Crude but heartfelt, as they say. Would you be so good as to keep your mouth shut, ha ha. That’s what I like. It reminds me of …
Major von Peters: Dear Lord Jesus Christ in Heaven.
Major Niblack: Are you religious, von Peters? Most airmen are, if not before, anyhow they become so with the years. Perhaps a matter of environment, too. Or logical evolution, just like what they call flying-phobia. It’s said to be in everyone, professional airmen as well as ordinary passengers. Not so remarkable in itself, when you come to analyse it. For every take-off you get statistically closer to a certain moment: regardless of which moment it might be, it may be a question of one you wish to avoid. If you think of two statistical graphs, one representing one’s own flying hours and the other setting out, shall we say, the unavoidable accident-frequency in graph form. Two parabolas which inexorably approach one another. Quite logical, isn’t it? Have you anything similar at sea, Commander Kampenmann?
Commander Kampenmann: No.
Colonel Orbal: Seasickness, perhaps?
Commander Kampenmann: No, that’s hardly the same thing.
Colonel Orbal: Makes me think of having a pee.
Major Niblack: I didn’t understand that properly. What do you mean, sir? For instance that …
Major von Peters: Go on, Velder. Talk, for Christ’s sake. Anything’s better than this.
Captain Schmidt: You mentioned Gaspar Bartholic, Velder?
Velder: Yes, he was there. He was considered a military expert.
Captain Schmidt: More of an expert in riots, civil war and terrorist activities, if you’ll pardon the observation.
Velder: Yes. Bartholic knew a lot about such things. Janos Edner and Stoloff made summaries of the position. First Edner, who pointed out that the island was divided by a north-south line roughly halfway between Ludolfsport and Oswaldsburg. The two-thirds of the country west of this line were controlled by Oswald and Haller, the Army, in other words. The remaining third, east of the line, that is, was in our hands. He also said that for the moment neither party was sufficiently strong to go into attack and overwhelm the other. Within our area, there was no risk of new coups or attempts at take-over, but neither could one reckon with people in the Central and South-West Province being capable of carrying out any rising against the Army, as they lacked both arms and leaders. Then Stoloff described practical details of the situation, as he expressed it. The captured Army depôts had to some extent been very well stocked, he said. Amongst other things, they turned out to contain great quantities of ammunition and astonishingly enough—and fortunately—no less than four hundred thousand yards of barbed wire. Together with considerable stocks of cement, iron girders, scaffolding, machines and tools, which for other reasons had been stored in the area round Ludolfsport, the barbed wire suggested a swift way of achieving a fairly effective barricade along the boundary which we’d already begun to call the demarcation line. As far as other materials were concerned, there were relatively good supplies of hand-firearms, a number of machine-guns and grenade-throwers too, but no artillery, no fighter-planes and no tanks, which on the other hand, our opponents would also be short of. Means of transport were only just sufficient. On that score, however, Oswald was much better supplied. We, on the other hand, held the best harbour and the largest store of provisions. The mine-chain was intact and together with the topographical structure of the coastline, they formed a guarantee against surprise attack from the sea. Stoloff ended his summary by saying that for the moment we were inferior in materials, and that the difference in strength was about 1.5 to 1. We were also inferior when it came to military-trained personnel, but that shortage was more easily compensated and less significant, as Oswald had to use some of his soldiers to keep internal order. After that, Janos Edner brought out what turned out to be the really vital question, although I hadn’t given it a thought before. I don’t think anyone else had either. We’d had so much else to think about and everything had happened so quickly. Janos Edner asked: ‘What shall we do?’ The question went from one person to the next. Joakim Ludolf—who was very determined, in a way I’d never seen him before—said immediately: ‘Fight.’ Aranca Peterson: ‘No. Anything, but not that. Not violence and war. If we’re not going to be allowed to live in peace on this bit of our island, then it’s better to give it all up and leave.’ Janos Edner said that he was very uncertain, that he really thought the same as Aranca Peterson, but at the same time he refused to give up and capitulate to violence and treachery, ‘for a couple of poor madmen who want to be dictators’, was how he expressed it word for word. With that, the main members of the Council had expressed their opinions and the question was passed on to us others. Gaspar Bartholic said that he didn’t think he had the right to influence the decision, but he was at the disposal of whichever line we others took. Stoloff glanced briefly at Ludolf and said: ‘Fight.’ Then it was my turn. I said something very ambiguous: ‘I don’t know. I can fight if you think it’s necessary. But I don’t want to.’ That was absolutely true, in fact, just as I felt then. The last person to say anything was Danica Rodriguez. She sat for a long time, smoking and staring at the wall. Then she said: ‘Might as well. Fight.’
Major Niblack: Funny council of war, I must say. What a bunch! Did you know these madmen, Colonel Orbal?
Colonel Orbal: What?
Commander Kampenmann: Go on, Velder.
Velder: Go on. Oh, yes. Well, the matter wasn’t settled with that. Janos Edner asked if those who’d said ‘Fight’ meant that we should organise an army of our own and go into attack in order to restore the old order. Ludolf replied: ‘Of course.’ Stoloff said: ‘Naturally, but first we’ll have to think in terms of fighting on the defensive.’ Dana put a counter-question: ‘What alternative can you think of?’ And Janos Edner replied: ‘We could be content with defending the area that we have left.’ Dana said at once: ‘Peaceful co-existence with Oswald? That’s no alternative. Only an unusually naïve way of committing suicide.’ Then Gaspar Bartholic spoke too, and said: ‘You’re right, Miss Rodriguez. There’s only the combination either–or. Friend Stoloff is right, too. We must first and foremost consolidate and build up our defences. Even attack and retake the lost provinces. Military offensives demand resources, planning and training, defence demands primarily just one thing—the will to defend.’ After a while, Aranca Peterson sighed and said: ‘The worst of it is that we’re all right. If we want to stay here, we must obviously fight some kind of war. I want to stay here, but I don’t want to fight, not even defend myself really, and yet I’ll obviously be forced to.’
Captain Schmidt: Yes, Velder. Go on.
Velder: I remember that, that what Aranca said, especially well, because that’s what I felt then. I was also worried about my children, my family. I missed them.
Major von Peters: I must say, Endicott, that even if Velder is weak-minded and one-eyed and mortally ill, he can’t be allowed just to sit there and talk whatever rubbish he likes. Isn’t there any possibility of getting him to stick to the point? I can’t believe that I’ve gone through thirty years training as a soldier in order to sit here and listen to this sort of stuff.
