This Menashke. Devil take him! He had discovered a new idea of leadership and took no notice of theory. His colleagues could not deny that his unit was the best and acted in combat as though they had made a pact with the devil. But after the fighting Menashke allowed his people unbelievable things.
"It can’t carry on like that," said Shmuel and raised his voice, so that the battalion commander, who was sitting in a corner, could also hear him. "He is demoralizing our people. You can’t spoil soldiers like that. We’ll all pay for it in the end ..."
The battalion commander raised his eyebrows, but behaved as though he hadn’t heard anything. He didn’t like Shmuel, this chubby commander of the HQ company, who never saw combat. He smelled of bureaucracy. And he was always the first to add new stripes to his shoulder straps. But in this case he was right, absolutely right.
There was no doubt about it. Menashke was going too far. Alright, if he didn’t want to appear in the Officers’ Club and preferred to spend his free time with the ordinary soldiers - that was his business. But what happened last week, that was something else altogether. Menashke set off with his people for a night exercise, even though rest had been ordered for that evening. And the radio officer had reported to him later that the night exercise had finished up in Tel Aviv’s Mugrabi Square.1
Why didn’t I say anything at the time? he asked himself. Ah yes, I remember. The next day the company was in action and Menashke’s unit captured Position Number 37. That was very good. Two men fell and Menashke himself received a light head wound. After that it didn’t make any sense to reopen the matter.
The murmur of conversation fell silent. Menashke stood in the doorway. He smiled, as though appearing in this place was the most normal thing in the world, walked across to the company comman-der, and asked him some questions about the planned operation. In his hand he was holding a colorful map.
The first to recover from his paralysis was Shmuel. With a false smile he opened his arms and approached Menashke. "Welcome!" he called. "A hearty welcome, Menashke! So you finally decided to honor us with your presence! Take a seat. Make yourself at home. Would you like a cup of tea, perhaps?" And with exaggerated gestures he summoned the young girl who served the officers.