Chapter 9 flight of duck

He jumped up from the wooden bed when he heard the gunshot; in the confusion, someone opened the cell door, including his.A bearded, blond man poked his head in and said, "Come on, you're free." Not knowing what was going on, Natale was delighted, remembering that he was disheveled and only wearing a vest, He grabbed a pair of army trousers and put them on his legs, which was his only clothing.Natale was so angry that he couldn't wear it well. At this moment, a 200cm-tall squint-eyed burly man came in with a wooden stick, whimpered and asked, "Where is it? Where is it?" Then Natale found that the wooden stick was already in the On the top of his head, he slashed head-on.It was as if a group of ducks were flying into the sky in his mind, and blood was splashing in the center of his forehead.Natale fell limply and lost consciousness.

One of the soldiers who had already reached an agreement with them came in and shouted: "What are you doing? That's a prisoner!" Immediately, many people were worried and surrounded the man lying on the ground with a blown head.The big man who hit someone still shouted: "I can't make a mistake! He's still wearing a fascist uniform!" Act fast, African reinforcements will arrive at any moment.And the machine guns, the magazines, the bombs had to be taken away, and the rest had to be burned, especially the papers.Occasionally, someone would come to ask the hostages: "Okay, we are leaving." But the hostages were in a mess.The general walks around the cell in just a shirt, "I'll change right away," he said; the tie of the pharmacist, who is still consulting the priest, hangs messily around his neck; In order.

Also, you have to stare at the military prisoner, the two dangling veterans in breeches talking endlessly about family and children, and the sallow-faced corporal in the corner who doesn't say anything. At last the general began to speak, saying that they were here as hostages and would be released soon, and that it was hard to say what would happen if they went with the guerrillas.The plump female lawyer in her thirties intended to go with the team, but the priest and the pharmacist agreed with the general to stay, and they all stayed. At two o'clock in the morning, the guerrillas retreated sporadically up the mountain. They were accompanied by two guards on duty who were supposed to lead them into the camp, several young people released from the prison cells, and three men with machine guns behind them. Fascists.The tall man with the stick wrapped Natale's head wound in a towel and carried him away on his shoulders.

As soon as he left the camp, he heard gunshots from the other side of the city.It was Crazy Jack who was shooting in the air in the middle of the square to lure the niggers over and delay it. The only disinfectant in the pack was sulfa ointment for leg wounds, and a whole strip was used to fill the wound on Natale's head.In the morning, two people were sent to find a doctor who was evacuated to the village below the mountain to replenish the medicine. Word got out, and the populace rejoiced at the success of the night's raid on the barracks; within a day the guerrillas had raised enough supplies to sterilize his wounds and dress them with gauze, tape, and bandages.Natale's eyes were tightly closed, his mouth was slightly opened, and he still looked half-dead, and he didn't know whether he was moaning or snoring.Gradually, the wound that was always bloody began to heal, returning to normal color and feeling, but every time his head felt like it was about to split open, the ducks in his eyes shot up into the sky, which made him grit his teeth and groan, muttering words.The next day, Pauline, who is also a cook, nurse and gravedigger, announced the good news: "He cursed! He's almost cured!"

After scolding people, the desire to eat came; bowl after bowl of vegetable soup was poured into his mouth, and he devoured it all over his body.Then the round face covered with layers of bandages and ointments showed a satisfied animal smile, and muttered some words that everyone couldn't understand. ──What did he say? ──Ask the person standing there watching the excitement. ──Where is he from? ──Ask him. ──The cellmate and the soldier on duty who used to share the same room replied. ──Hey, stranger, where are you from? ──Natare squinted his eyes and thought for a while, groaned, and then spit out some fragmented and incomprehensible sentences.

──has he gone stupid,──asked the leading blond man. ──Are you just stupid? ──The others don't know either. ──However, that club was not light, ──they said, ──even if they were not stupid before, they are now stupid. Natale, with a big round, flat and dark face, has been wandering around since he was drafted into the army many years ago.Since then, he has lost contact with his hometown because he can neither write nor read.Once they put him on leave and he took the wrong train to Turin.After Italy signed an armistice with the Allies on September 8, he arrived in Duto, dressed in rags, with a lunch box on his belt, and continued to wander.And then got caught.Later, someone set him free, and someone beat him on the head.But all this is nothing strange to him, just like all the experiences in his life.

The world to him is the sum of green, yellow, noise, shouting, starvation, and lack of sleep.This kind of world is not bad, there are many good things, even if he doesn't understand anything, but when he tries to understand, his head will hurt sharply, ducks fly around with a bang in his head, and sticks come down. The subordinates of the blond man were members of the city action team, and they were stationed in the nearest pine forest on the outskirts of the city. That area was full of villas where the bourgeoisie came to vacation in the early years.Now that the area was under their control, the guerrillas moved out of the caves and tents, and found a few villas of government cabinet members to live in. They raised a mattress full of lice, and the bedside table was a ready-made machine gun rack. record player.The blond was austere, cruel to his enemies and domineering to his companions, but he tried to make life as comfortable as possible for them as long as he could.So, they held a few ceilidhs and got a few girls.

Natale is having fun too.The bandage and ointment were removed, leaving only a large scar between the thick hair, and the trance that he thought was the lethargy of all things.He didn't get angry when his companion made all kinds of jokes on him, and he was fine after cursing loudly in an unintelligible dialect.Otherwise, he would fight with others, including Captain Blonde, and lose every time, and he didn't care. One night they decided they were going to play a trick on him: leave him alone with the girls and see what happens.As a result, Margaret was selected among the girls. The chubby little girl with fair skin and rosy skin agreed to go out.Everyone started whispering to Natale, making him think Marguerite liked him.But Natale is very cautious and thinks it is unlikely.The wine was brought out, and Marguerite was arranged to sit beside him in order to tease him.Natale was even more confused when he saw her flirtatiously and rubbed her thighs under the table.Later, there were only the two of them left in the room, and everyone hid behind the door to peek.He kept smirking.She teased him even further.Only then did Natare notice her fake smile, and blinked her eyes.Forgetting the stick, the ducks, and the scar on her head, he grabbed her and threw her on the bed.Now he understands everything: understands what the rosy, soft woman under him wants, understands that it is not a game, but a matter between him and her, just like a big matter of diet.

But the woman's originally watery eyes became angry and rebellious in the blink of an eye.Her arms began to resist, struggling under him, screaming: "Help, he bullied me!" Everyone rushed in, laughing, screaming, and splashing water on him.And so it all went back to the way it was, the pain deep in the skull; and Marguerite couldn't help laughing out loud as she straightened the dress on her bosom.Marguerite, with bright eyes and moist lips, suddenly screamed for help, which he did not understand.When the surrounding companions fired guns into the air and rolled on the bed laughing, Natale began to cry like a child.

One morning, the German army stood up proudly: they came in heavy armed trucks and started a carpet search.The blond captain was awakened by the gunshots, and before he could escape, he was swept to the deadly grass by the machine gun.Natale squatted in the bushes, and every time he heard the whistling of bullets, he fell into the ground and escaped unharmed.After the death of the captain, the guerrillas disbanded: some were killed, some were captured, some defected to the African army, some continued to wander in the rounds of rounds, and some gathered with the bandits to take refuge on the mountain.

Natale chose the latter.Life in the mountains was even more difficult. When moving from one valley to another, Natale carried bags on his body like a mule, and the wheel guards also did odd jobs.Much like military life, there are good and bad.They made fun of him, mocked him, like his comrades in the army, but with one difference, he knew there were no ducks in his head flapping their wings anymore. Natale understood everything when he saw the German soldiers wearing fire masks holding flamethrowers and strafing the bushes on both sides along the road to Gleda.Lying on the ground, the old-fashioned rifle bullets were fired one after another, and Natale knew why he did it.He knew that the people in front of him were the soldiers who arrested him because he had no documents, the people who treated his working hours harshly in Duto, the lieutenant on duty who punished him for cleaning the toilet, and the master who taught him to hoe for a whole week before enlisting. , the young man who tripped him on the sidewalk when he went into town on vacation, and the father who slapped him backhanded that time.There is also Margaret, who is obviously interested in him but temporarily regrets it. It cannot be said to be Margaret, but the thing that made Margaret regret it: this is more difficult for him to understand than other things , but at that moment he understood.Natale thought again, why did those people shoot at him, yell at him, and die under his gun.Then he realized that they were actually just like him. They were slapped by their father when they were young, hoeing the land under the command of their master, and endured the taunts of the officers. Now they vent their hatred on him; If these people were all on his side, Natale would not shoot at them, but would shoot at others. He didn't know who the others were, and then Marguerite would fall into his arms.As for the impossibility of enemies having these and other distinctions, good and bad, friendly and hostile, and why he is on the right side and they are on the wrong side, Natale does not understand at all: this, as the duck It's flying, that's all. A few days before the end of the war, the British decided to drop supplies by air.The guerrillas moved to the Piedmont district, marched for two full days, and lit campfires on the grass at night.As a result, the British dropped gold-buttoned coats (it was already spring) and the Fascists shot in Italy's first African campaign.The guerrillas imitated the natives, standing the dead body by the campfire and dancing in circles.Natale yelled and danced with everyone, having fun.