Kaputt by Curzio Malaparte Page A

Multzumesc" which means "thanks" and invited me to have a cup of tea with them. I said "Multzumesc" and following them through the village, shortly reached a partially wrecked house where five or six more soldiers welcomed me warmly, asked me to have a seat, and offered me a cup of tea and a bowl of ciorba de pui —the Romanian chicken soup.
    I said " Multzumesc ." We began to talk and the soldiers told me that they were a liaison post in the village, that their division was some ten miles farther on, to the right. There was not a living soul in that village. The Germans had passed through it ahead of the Romanians.
    "The Germans," said one of those soldiers in a deep voice, and all the others laughed.
    "The Germans went through here before we did," another soldier repeated as if apologizing. They laughed softly while eating the ciorba de pui.
    " Aiurea! "said I.
    "It is quite true," said one of them who was a corporal, "the Germans passed through here ahead of us. It is quite true."
    " Aiurea! "said I .
    "Domnule —Sir— Capitan," said the corporal, "if you don't believe me, ask the prisoner. We do not destroy villages; we do not harm the peasants. We only have it in for the Jews. It's quite true. You, there, asculta! —listen here!" he shouted turning toward the corner of the room. "Isn't it true that the Germans passed through here ahead of us?"
    I turned toward the dark corner and saw a man sitting on the floor with his back against the wall. He was dressed in khaki; a yellow service cap sat on his shorn head. He was barefoot. A Tartar. He had a small lean face, the gray, shiny skin was tightly drawn over his prominent cheekbones; his eyes were fixed, black, perhaps veiled with hunger and fatigue. Motionless, he gazed at me with those veiled eyes of his. He did not reply to the corporal's question; he kept gazing at me.
    "Where did you capture him?" I inquired.
    "He was inside the armored car left in the square. There was something wrong with the motor, and the tank couldn't budge, but it kept on firing. The Germans were in a hurry and went off leaving us to deal with it. There were two men inside. They went on shooting till the very end. One of them was dead. We had to force the trap door open with a jimmy. He refused to surrender. He didn't have a single shot left; he said nothing; he squatted inside and did not want to open. The other one, the gunner, was dead. This one was the driver. We have to take him to the Romanian headquarters at Balta; but now nobody passes through here; the convoys of trucks drive along the main road. It's three days since anyone has passed through here."
    "Why did you take off his boots?" I asked.
    The soldiers began laughing, looked insolently at me.
    "A lovely pair of boots," said the corporal, "you look, Domnule Capitan, what boots these pigs of Russians have." He got up, rummaged in a sack and drew out a pair of heelless Tartar boots of soft leather. "They are better clothed than we are," went on the corporal pointing to his down-at-the-heel shoes and to his torn trousers.
    "It means they have a better country than yours," I said.
    "These pigs have no country," said the corporal, "they are like animals."
    "Even animals have a country," I replied, "a far better country than ours. Better than the Romanian country or the German country or the Italian country."
    The soldiers gazed fixedly at me; they did not understand; they looked at me and silently chewed bits of chicken swimming in the ciorba, and the corporal said uncomfortably, "A pair of boots such as these is worth at least two thousand lei."
    The soldiers shook their heads and drew in their lips. "Yes," one of them said, "a pair of boots like these, two thousand lei at the very least, if not more," and again they shook their heads and compressed their lips. They were Romanian peasants and Romanian peasants do not know what animals are; they do not know that animals also have a country; they do not know what machines are; that