start streaming until you can’t see anything any more. What the hell! How can you drive in an open jeep without goggles?
There is no chance of getting hold of any goggles. The whole jeep company is actually unauthorized. It does not appear on the staff plan. It was simply one of the brigade commander’s brilliant ideas. But HQ did not approve it. And if HQ does not approve something, then you don’t get any jeeps, machine guns, or protective goggles. The brigade commander "impounded" the jeeps from battalions under his command. Most of them are old. We expect them to stop working about fifty yards before the enemy lines. That is going to be entertaining.
The machine guns too come from various battalions. That means each infantry battalion is now four machine guns short. The weapon carriers must be glad to be rid of that extra weight. But the poor sol-diers will have to attack with correspondingly reduced covering fire. If some of them fall who would not otherwise have done so, their gravestones can carry the inscription: "The soldiers who were sacri-ficed for the holy organization chart."
The main thing is: we have no goggles. There aren’t any in the bat-talion. So we can’t confiscate any. If we get our hands on one of the staff officers responsible, then we’ll tie him up and drag him along behind the jeep, so that the dust gives him a good understanding of the significance of the holy organization chart.
There is the first village. A few bullets do the job. Just a few rifles return fire. Not even worth investigating. On to the next village. Three bursts. They don’t even respond. Cowards. The third village. Fire! Cease fire! Yawn. A boring little drive.
On the way back the first jeep suddenly races off and the crew begin firing. With our streaming eyes we can hardly see anything. There - some figures running in the direction of the third village. Give me the weapon! One salvo! Another salvo! Quick, let’s get there too!
The first jeep has caught a shepherd boy. One bullet has hit his backside. He is still young. Perhaps nine or ten years old. He is shaking with fear, but keeps silent. We are a little ashamed. The medic attends to the wound. Jamus tries to calm the child and we send him on his way. He walks a few steps and looks around nervously, as if he is afraid that we will shoot him in the back. When