The Second Objective

“Ask him how superficial it is.”

“Would you relax? It’s just a Frenchman, for Christ’s sake. Three aren’t worth one German. I don’t know that the going rate for Americans has been established. Do you?”

Bernie didn’t answer. They passed another road sign: REIMS 20 KM.

25

Reims

DECEMBER 19, 7:00 P.M.

Earl Gra

American forces used three movie houses in the downtown area to screen movies for Allied soldiers in Reims. Gra

The first show was scheduled for seven o’clock, a glossy Hollywood musical to help enlisted men forget their troubles. Lights on the theater’s marquee remained dark, observing blackout restrictions, but Gra

Dozens of soldiers from different service branches milled around outside, smoking cigarettes, waiting for friends or dates to arrive. Behind-the-line types, thought Gra

Gra

“I got a guy bringing over regulation SHAEF passes so I can compare ’em to our forgeries,” said Ole Carlson, standing eating a meal they’d brought in from a local restaurant.

“Good.”

“Think we’ll get to Paris, Earl?”

“I don’t know, Ole.”

“Ever been?”

“No. You?”

“Heck no. I’d love to see it. See Paris and die, isn’t that what they say?”

“I don’t think they mean right away.”

“Anyway, don’t figure I’ll ever get this close again.” Carlson leaned over Gra

“The meet’s supposed to happen between nine and twelve. That’s not until the second show,” said Gra

“I’m supposed to meet the guy with those passes. Don’t want to miss him.”

“While you’re there,” said Gra

Gra

Gra

His walkie-talkie crackled to life, MPs reporting in from the other two theaters, each less than a mile away.

Nothing yet.

When they drove into Reims, Von Leinsdorf stashed the stolen French ambulance in an abandoned garage in a ware house district near the canal. He ordered Bernie to exchange uniforms with the dead French driver again. While Bernie’s back was turned, Von Leinsdorf killed the second driver with a single, silenced bullet, as if he were finishing some paperwork.

“We’re GIs again,” said Von Leinsdorf, unbuttoning the driver’s tunic, searching both bodies for cash. “Not a moment too soon. I need to be fumigated. This bogtrotter was in desperate need of a bath. Try to run their damn country properly for them and this is the thanks we get.”

They dressed in silence. Bernie covered both dead drivers with blankets. Von Leinsdorf emptied the medicine and supplies from the ambulance footlocker into a knapsack.

“Leave the rest,” he said. “We’ll come back for it.”

“What time are we supposed to meet?” asked Bernie.

“Nine o’clock.”

“It’s only five. What do we do till then?”

“So many questions, Bernie. I’m feeling a lack of confidence in my leadership. You don’t hear any complaints from them, do you?” he asked, nodding toward the Frenchmen.

Von Leinsdorf put his black-framed glasses on, straightened his helmet, and opened the back of the ambulance. While his back was turned, Bernie slipped a syringe and a bottle of morphine into his pocket.

“Should I bring my rifle?” asked Bernie.

“We’re going to the movies, Bernie.”

“Who knows? It might be a western.” Bernie jumped down and closed the ambulance doors. He caught a whiff of something foul and sniffed his uniform. “That’s great, now I smell like a fuckin’ dead guy.”

“We could both use a bit of sprucing up,” said Von Leinsdorf, handing him a forged seventy-two-hour pass. “Put on a happy face. We’re supposed to be on leave.”

They walked out into the empty street and a steady drizzle as the last daylight faded. Von Leinsdorf consulted a map with a flashlight as they walked until they reached a shopping district, studded with cafés and shops. Other off-duty GIs circulated in and out of storefronts, so they didn’t look or feel out of place. Von Leinsdorf directed Bernie to one of the cafés, where he ordered sandwiches and coffee, in French, paying with francs. They focused hungrily on the food, the first meal they’d eaten all day.

“It may help that they know about us, Brooklyn,” said Von Leinsdorf. “He’ll have gone to ground. Easier to find.”

“Find who?”

“You’re persistent,” said Von Leinsdorf, admiring his sandwich. “I’ll give you that.”

Their table offered a view of an open produce market across the street. Von Leinsdorf kept staring in that direction. Bernie saw he was watching a plain young woman browsing through the market with a shopping bag.