his childish, freckled face. "Did we have a bet or not? If you have lost, then you have to admit it."
"He’s right," I decide, relying on my authority as informal acting squad leader. "A bet is a bet!" Sancho’s behavior has aroused my curiosity. I would really like to know what has shaken up this cool-headed man.
Suddenly Sancho bursts out laughing. I don’t like the sound of it. There is something dirty, malevolent in it. "You want to hear the truth? Our Don Quixote wants the truth about pure, true love? OK. Listen and enjoy!"
In the meantime the other members of the squad have come over from their nearby tent. Joker, tall and wearing a nightshirt that cov-ers him down to his ankles, chases me out of my bed and gets in him-self. The atmosphere is tense. The fighting, which is going on at this moment in the Keren Kayemet House, seems to be forgotten. As wit-nesses to the bet we have a right to our share of Sancho’s love affairs. If you have no chance to commit your own sins, you can at least enjoy the sins of others.
"OK, listen!" starts Sancho. His voice sounds indifferent, as if he is going to read us one of those reports which we have to learn in the idiotic radio exercises: "To command post two - from com-mand post three - the enemy is attacking from the south - I have three dead and two wounded - send ammunition and a pretty medic."
"After leaving here I went straight to Amos," recounts Sancho. "Y ou know Amos?" I know him. He is one of those who avoid call-up because he is registered at some higher institution of learning, which he sees from the inside twice a year at the most. "I was sure that I would find some girls at his place. Around him there are always a few pretty girls who recognize their national duty to open their legs whenever a poor soldier comes by in search of love. They are not always pretty, but that is not so important."
"Not in the least!" shouts Zuzik. He is seventeen years old, from a respectable household, and his parents have tried too hard to bring him up well. We suspect that he is still a virgin, and feels obliged to take every opportunity to prove how masculine, adult, and experi-enced he is.
"But," Sancho continues, "that was a mistake. No girls there. So I