miserable, small cafe and drank one beer after the other. A strange melancholy has overcome us, without our knowing where it came from. Perhaps from our lonely way of life, where we are responsible for new immigrants who can’t speak our language?
"Tres bien! On the lorries!" Jamus shouts.
The people climb over one another, pushing and swearing. They are all trying to get to the good place behind the driver’s cab where they imagine there may be a little protection from rain and wind.
There is only room for two next to the driver. Normally we remain with our people. That strengthens the esprit de corps and trust. But now that has lost its meaning. All our noble principles are washed out by the rain and the depressing atmosphere. What the hell! We also got wet when we were recruits. They can suffer a bit.
Janek, the third squad leader, volunteers to stay in the open. We feel sorry for Janek. He is supposed to lead a squad of Turks who understand no Polish, while he doesn’t understand a word of Turkish.
Jamus and I push our way into the driver’s cab. Nehemia starts the motor. Since he was released from hospital, he has been with a trans-port unit. He is a little ashamed not to have returned to a fighting unit. As if we would hold it against him! Only very few of the seri-ously wounded return to a fighting unit. It is human nature to be anxious after being wounded. Fear is a loss of faith in your own invul-nerability. You can be a hero so long as you are sure that the bullets are not meant for you. Getting wounded destroys this illusion. Everyone who rejoins a fighting unit after being seriously wounded deserves a medal.
"Wait!" Jamus shouts.
"What’s up?"
"I saw something ... there." Jamus has sharp eyes. A girl is stand-ing at a corner and casting furtive, hopeful glances in our direction.
Jamus gets out and approaches her. She is pretty, blond, and well-rounded. Jamus is proud of his discovery. "Would you like to join us?" he asks in the tender voice that he reserves for such occasions.
"No ... I mean ... perhaps ... I am going to Sarafand." The hope in her voice is unmistakable.
"Excellent!" Jamus declares. "We can take you as far as Rishon. There you are sure to be able to hitch another ride." He twirls his