SS General by Sven Hassel

at me triumphantly. "Get it?"
    "Yeah. Yeah, I see what you mean," I agreed.
    "I don't," said Tiny.
    We tried to explain to him. A really big noise--a field marshal, for instance--could well address a subordinate as "my dear Steicker" and sign himself "your very sincerely." But just let the subordinate try the same tactics with the field marshal and his name would soon be mud! Tiny scratched his head and said he supposed so, but something still seemed to be bothering him and it was obvious that he wasn't convinced.
    "It's a matter of psychology," explained Porta earnestly. "Yeah, but . . ."
    "Listen to this one," I said. "This couple weren't exactly in love, were they?" I read it out:
    TOP SECRET
    GOLUMBISKAYA, NOVEMBER 16, 1942
    TO: GENERAL SEYDLITZ
    REORGANIZATION OF THE FOLLOWING IS URGENTLY REQUIRED: 16TH AND 24TH PANZER DIVISIONS; 3RD INFANTRY DIVISION; 100TH ARTILLERY; 76TH, 113TH AND 384TH INFANTRY DIVISIONS. KINDLY ATTEND AND EXPEDITE MATTER.
    HEIL HITLER!
    "Very cold," said Porta, drawing in his breath. "Very nasty atmosphere. Cut it with a knife."
    "Listen," said Tiny, "I don't understand. Why's he going on about the 16th, eh?" He looked at us, round-eyed. "That's us, that is. That's us he's talking about."
    "Jesus, he's right!" said Porta, gathering all the papers together. "What's Ivan doing with our letters?" He shook his fist at the silent prisoners. "What're you doing with other people's mail?"
    "No wonder we don't get none," grumbled Tiny. "The bastards must've knocked off a whole sackful."
    Porta looked across at the prisoners with a gleam in his eye. "I bet we could make 'em talk easy enough. How about it? Just give me five minutes alone with 'em . . ."
    "To hell with that," I said, making for the exit. "Let's concentrate on getting back home. Take the letters with us. Hinka can have himself a ball with 'em."
    We pushed our prisoners into the truck, closed all the observation slits and nosed our way out of the woods, back toward the fork where we had gone wrong. There was more activity on the road now. We passed several Russian convoys, but no one attempted to stop us. On the other hand, the Germans gave us a very hot reception as we attempted to cross back into our own lines.
    "Stupid bastards!" cried Tiny, already busy with the cannon. "They're asking for trouble, carrying on like that!"
    "We're the ones that are asking for trouble!" I retorted, holding on tight as the truck bucked and swerved. "We'll be lucky if we get back in one piece."
    Porta somehow managed to plow through unscathed. With a magnificent flourish, he pulled up directly outside the command post, literally at Colonel Hinka's feet. He jumped down and saluted. "Obergefreiter Joseph Porta presenting his report, sir! Mission successfully accomplished."
    Hinka stared past him openmouthed at the truck. "Where the devil did this thing come from?" He waved a hand the red star on the turret. "What's been going on?"
    "Nothing, sir." Porta turned his puzzled gaze from Hinka to our vehicle. "You mean the truck, sir?" He shrugged. "We were running a bit behind schedule. We needed it to get back on time."
    "But where in heaven's name did you get it?"
    "Well, it was like this, sir." Porta tried unsuccessfully to stand to attention while containing a familiar rumble in the region of his bowels.
    Hinka clicked his tongue impatiently. "Well? I'm waiting!"
    "Well--it was a sort of accident, really, sir. We was in this wood, you see. You know what Russian woods are like, they go on for miles, and like I said, we were running behind schedule." He looked vaguely at the truck. "We just sort of bumped into it. It seemed like a good idea--oh, and incidentally," he added, turning back again to the colonel, "we've brought along a couple of prisoners with us, sir. And a stack of mail."
    "Mail?" barked Hinka. "What mail?"
    "German mail, sir. We figure they must've pinched it from us. The prisoners, I mean."
    Hinka frowned. "Are you serious, Obergefreiter?"
    "Oh, yes,