the course since the last lecture on ballistics when he was snoring loudly.
"If they don’t let us out of here soon, there will be no one left who can show it to the Egyptians!"
"Who needs this shitty course? Things were much better as ordinary soldiers."
"First we had to do the dirty work, and now some newly arrived immigrants can play the victor at our expense."
I glance over my shoulder. Our superiors are sitting at their table, chewing silently, and trying to look as though they can’t hear any-thing. They too would prefer to rejoin their previous units. But discipline is discipline.
"So, shall we bug off tonight?" Jamus whispers.
"OK, OK! If you really want to die, we can get out." Since yester-day Jamus has been busy trying to organize a mass breakout.
"So, listen" he whispers. "We don’t take anything with us. Just the rifles, ammunition, washing things, and steel helmets. We can leave our clothes here."
"How do we find the battalion? Do you even know exactly where the front runs?"
"Doesn’t matter. We’ll get there. On the main road we just get onto one of the passing supply trucks."
Joker devours his food in record time and lights a cigarette. He rubs his long nose. This shows that he is in a philosophical mood.
"Why have you all suddenly become such heroes?"
"Don’t talk nonsense," says Jamus irritably. "It is just more pleas-ant to race through the countryside in a jeep than to crawl around in the thorns."
"And that’s all?" asks Joker disbelievingly.
"Another thing: how can we look them in the face, Tarzan and Nachshe and all the others, if we hang around here while they could be killed at any moment?"
"What honorable sentiments," Joker mocks. "I think you just like
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war!
"Idiot!" spits out Jamus in real anger. "I hate war as much as you do. But if I belong to a unit, I can’t just lie in a comfortable bed while the others have to get out."
I know what he means. Once, when the company was in camp, I