Chapter 59 Chapter Fifty-Nine

On the day Victor Henry left Manila, the Japanese embassy in Rome hosted a surprise reception for Japanese and American journalists.The purpose seems to be a deliberate display of intimacy to neutralize talk of war.Natalie, a reporter from The New York Times, went with her.She had never been away from her baby at night, and she didn't have a suitable dress, and she didn't like the man very much, but she finally accepted the invitation, and a seamstress was hastily called in, and she had her most generous clothes enlarged.When she left the hotel, she wrote a long list of instructions to a loving maid on how to bathe and feed the baby, which made the maid laugh.Rumors of a war in the Pacific had worn Natalie's nerves, so she too hoped to hear something concrete at the reception.

She came back with a strange story.Among the American guests was a film distributor named Herb Ross, who kept an office in Rome.Herb spoke Japanese at the meeting, somewhat animating a cold, blunt, meaningless reception; it was then learned that he had set up a similar office in Tokyo.Herb was a tall, good-faced Californian Jew who had his clothes made by the best tailors in Rome, spoke Italian fluently, and seemed a mild-mannered man until he spoke English.Only then does he sound like a movie guy: witty, sarcastic, and a little bit rude. This Herb Ross had already bought a plane ticket to Lisbon and was on the same plane as the Jastrows.At this reception, he went up to Natalie, led her to a corner, and told her hesitantly that she would go to St. Peter's Basilica with her uncle at nine o'clock tomorrow morning and stand at Near the statue of the Madonna embracing the corpse of Jesus carved by Angelo ①.He said they could find an opportunity to leave Italy as soon as possible and escape through Palestine.Hebb believed that war between the United States and Japan was getting closer by the day and by the hour.He himself fled that way, giving up his plane ticket to Lisbon.Besides, he didn't want to say anything to her.He begged her not to talk about it in the hotel.When she came home from the reception, she told her uncle all this while walking in the cold drizzle on the Via Veneto.Ellen's reaction was skeptical, but he agreed they'd better go to St. Peter's.

① Michelangelo (1475-1564), a famous Italian painter and sculptor. The next morning, he was very upset.He always liked to get up at dawn and work till eleven o'clock.He said that he could not sleep well at night because of distractions, and slept only a few hours, what a waste of early morning on such far-fetched errands.Besides, the cold dampness of the unheated hotel had given him a new cold.With his hands stuffed in his coat pockets, his blue scarf wrapped around his neck, and his head drooping in an old gray felt hat stiffened by the rain, he walked down the Via Veneto step by step next to his niece. Go to where the taxi is parked, like a child going to school.

"Palestine!" he muttered, "oh, that's a more dangerous place than Italy." "Hebb said that's not the case. He said that the most important thing at the moment is to get out of here at once by any means. Herb thinks that the whole world will be at war practically overnight, so we can never get out. gone." "But Herb's way of leaving is not legal, is it? His exit visa is for Lisbon, not Palestine. Then it's a risky business. In a turbulent environment like this situation, the first principle is not to give the authorities the slightest pretext,"—Jastrow warns with a motion of a stiff finger—"to turn it against you. Obey orders, make your papers authentic, put Keep your head down, keep your spirits up, keep your cash in your hand. It's our ancient national wisdom. Above all, stay within the bounds of the law." He sneezed several times, wiped He wiped his nose and eyes. "I've never liked the weather in Rome. I think it's absurd and unhelpful. O Palestine! You're even farther from Byron there than I am from civilization. It's a pit of hell, Nata Li, a desert full of flies, Arabs, and disease. Angry Arabs rise up periodically to riot and slaughter. When I was writing a book about Paul, I had planned a trip there. But after I asked a few times, Immediately canceled my plans. I went to Greece instead."

People formed a long queue at the taxi stand, but there were few taxis.They did not reach St. Peter's Basilica by car until after nine o'clock.The temperature dropped a few degrees as they hurried from the sun into the cathedral.Jastrow sneezes a few times, wraps the scarf tighter around his neck, and turns up his collar.St. Peter's Basilica was quiet, almost empty, and very dark.arrive There are women wearing black shawls praying under the flickering pale candlelight, crowds of elementary school students follow behind the sexton, and tourists listen to the guide's explanation, but all of these disappear in the boundless solemnity up.

"It's my least favorite of the Italian cathedrals," Jastrow said. "It was built during the Renaissance for conquest and anesthesia. Well, there's a statue of the Virgin cradling the body of Jesus, and that's lovely." They walked up to the statue.A German female guide stood next to the statue, explaining earnestly to more than a dozen Teutonic people holding cameras. When she was explaining, most of the Teutonic people were reading the guidebook instead of looking at the statue, as if to check the female guidebook. The wizard didn't speak fully. "What a beautiful piece of art it is after all, Natalie," Jastrow said as the Germans moved on. "This poor dead young Christ lying limp in the lap of the Virgin Mary not much older than he was. Both were so tender, so lifelike, so young! How he was carved out of stone like this Well? Of course it doesn't look like the statue of Moses, does it? There's nothing like it. Before we leave Rome, we must see the statue of Moses again. Don't let me forget."

"Dr. Jastrow, do you call it a Jew's Jesus?" someone said in German.The speaker is of medium build, about thirty years old, and looks a little fat. He wears an old tweed jacket over a red sweater, and a Leica camera dangling around his neck.He had been with the guide with the group, but he was deliberately left behind.He took out a book he had tucked under his arm, an old English edition of Jesus of a Jew, the binding frayed.He smiled and pointed to Jastrow the author's photo on the back of the book. "Sorry," Jastrow said, staring at the man curiously. "This picture discourages me. I'm too old to recognize."

"Obviously not, because I recognized you from this photograph. My name is Avran Rabinowitz. Hello, Mrs. Henry!" He spoke in clear English, though with a strange accent, Also a bit chunky.Natalie nodded timidly at him.He went on: "I'm glad you're here. I asked Mr. Ross if there were any other American Jews left in Rome. I was surprised to learn that Dr. Ellen Jastrow was still here." "Where did you find that book?" Jastrow said naughty.The slightest hint of admiration warmed him. "Bought it here at a foreign second-hand bookstore. I've read it a long time ago, and it's a masterpiece. Come on, let's walk around the cathedral, shall we? I've never been here before. Tomorrow Thursday I'm sailing from Naples at high tide at one o'clock. Are you coming?"

"You're sailing? Are you a captain?" Natalie asked. The man smiled slightly, but when he spoke, he showed a serious expression again, which looked a little scary.His short, stubby face was more Slavic than Semitic, his eyes were small and sharp, and his thick, curly fair hair grew low on his forehead. "Not quite. I've chartered the boat. It's not going to be a Conrad voyage. It's old, small, and it carries hides, fat, horses, and the Atlantic coast. So on board The smell is chic, but it transports us there." ① Conrad (1787-1865), a Philadelphian in the United States, was the founder of the transatlantic ship voyage.

Natalie said, "How far is a voyage?" "Ah, it depends. This year's quota is already full. So we may have to detour." "What quota?" Jastrow said. The question surprised Rabinowitz. "Why, Professor, the English only allow a small number of Jews to go to Palestine every year, so as not to irritate the Arabs too much. Don't you know this? So a question arises. I want to speak frankly about this. According to the present Situation, we can always sail all the way to Palestine, we can also sail to Turkey, and then continue overland - Syria Lebanon, and then through the mountains to Galilee "So you mean illegal entry into Romania," Jastrow's voice sounded stern.

"If it's illegal for a Jew to go back to his homeland, you're right. We don't think it's illegal. My passengers had no choice anyway. They were refugees from the Germans, all Other countries have closed their doors to them, including you, the United States. They can't just lie around and die." "That's not the case with us," Jastrow said. "What you're proposing is not safe." "Professor, you are not safe here." "What institution do you belong to? How much do you charge at the same time?" "My institution? It's a long story. We shipped Jews out of Europe. As for the shipping cost—well, that's a matter of course. You can ask Mr. Ross. Money is secondary, although we do everything money is necessary. In fact, I Came to Rome to make money.It was for this reason that I met Mr. Ross. " "Once we're in Palestine—what's next?" Rabinovitz gave him a friendly, pleasant look. "Well, why not stay there? We'd be honored to have such a great Jewish historian." Natalie interjected, "I've got a little baby who's just two months old." Woolen cloth." "Yes, Mr. Ross did." "Can a little doll make such a long journey?" Rabinowitz paused by the high altar and gazed admiringly at the spiral columns. "How magnificent and beautiful this cathedral is. It's the pinnacle, don't you think? A gigantic work like this was dedicated to worshiping a poor Jew who was put to death by the Romans. Now this building overlooks all of Rome." City. I think we should be honored." He looked aggressively into Natalie's eyes. "I say, Mrs. Henry, have you heard the news from Poland and Russia? I'm afraid you should risk your little baby out of Europe." Ellen Jastrow said affectionately: "In wartime, all kinds of news will be heard." "Mr. Rabinowitz, we're out of here in nine days," Natalie said. "Our plane tickets are all booked, and the permits have been received. We took a lot of effort to get them. We are going to fly home." Rabinowitz covered his face with one hand , shaking his head. "Are you unwell?" Natalie touched his arm. He let go of a furrowed eyebrow and smiled wryly. "I had a bit of a headache, but I'm fine now. You see, Mr. Herbert Ross has a plane ticket, and he's going to Naples with me. If you're going with us, we'd welcome you. Otherwise I'll be fine." Not much to say." "Even if we were willing to consider this desperate action, we couldn't change an exit visa," Jastrow said. "No one has an exit visa. You are only on board to see off guests. When the ship sails, you forget to go ashore." "If something goes wrong, we'll never get out of Italy," Jastrow insisted, "until the end of the war." Rabinovitz glanced at his watch. "To tell you the truth. I can't vouch for your success, Dr. Jastrow. Mr. Ross told me about your troubles. I don't think they were accidental. I'm afraid you are someone called A first-class kind of person,"—he said the American vernacular hesitantly in his fluent German—"that's your real problem. One day the Italians can make a big deal out of you, so until the end There's something wrong with a minute to go. But it's a great honor to see you. We can talk more if you agree to go. I have a lot of questions about your book. Your Jesus and It doesn't matter much, does it?" He waved his hands across the cathedral. "He was a Jewish Jesus," Jastrow said. "That's my point." "Then tell me one thing," Rabinowitz said. “These Europeans worship a poor Jew who was murdered, that young Talmud scholar you wrote so brilliantly—he is God to these Europeans—and yet they go on killing Jews. A How do historians explain this?" Jastrow replied in the comfortable, sarcastic tone of his lectures, which was so out of character for the circumstances: "Yes, you should remember that deep down they Mostly still Norse and Latin pagans who have always been outraged by the ethics of the Talmud of their Jewish God, So they may take out their anger on those of the same religion. " "That explanation never occurred to me," Rabinowitz said. "That's a theory you ought to write up. Well, let's leave it alone. I'm sure you'll think about it again. At six o'clock to-night Mr. Ross will call You, do you want tickets for the opera. Yes or no, just tell him." "Okay," Natalie said, "we thank you very much." "Thank you for what? My mission is to send the Jews to Palestine! Is your little baby a girl or a boy?" "Man. But he's only half Jewish." Rabinowitz smiled slyly, waved goodbye hastily, and said, "It's all right, we can take him. We need boys." He walked away quickly.Natalie and her uncle looked at each other bewilderedly as his fat figure disappeared among the group of travelers leaving St. Peter's Basilica. "It's cold in here," said Dr. Jastrow, "and very dull. Let's go outside." They walked for a while in the sun in the Grand Place to discuss the matter again.Ellen was inclined to dismiss the idea right away, but Natalie suggested thinking it over or talking it over with Rose.The thought of him leaving made her very uneasy.Jastrow pointed out that Ross is not as safe as they are.In the event of war between the United States and Italy—a threat in the crisis with Japan—the ambassador had promised to save them two seats on the diplomatic train, leaving with journalists and embassy personnel.Ross has no such guarantees.He was willing to risk staying after the embassy repeatedly warned him to leave earlier this year, and now he will face the consequences.If he's going to take the risk of leaving the country illegally, that's not to say either of them has to. At the hotel, Natalie finds the doll awake and very agitated.The doll seemed too small and frail for him to endure a sea voyage whose destination was not clear, let alone illegal; sailing in a crowded wreck—no doubt Food, water, sanitation, and medical care are limited — and it might make for a trek through the mountains: the end point is a raw, unsettled place.Indeed, Natalie had only to look at her doll to make up her mind. Ross called promptly at six o'clock. "Hello, do you want tickets for the Opera House?" On the phone, his voice was kind, yet a little anxious. Natalie said, "I don't think we're going, Herb. Thanks to your friend who got the tickets for us." "Natalie, you're making a mistake," Rose said. "I think it's the last time it's on. Have you made up your mind?" "It's settled." "Good luck to you, young man. I'm sure I'm going." In the cool morning, with church bells ringing in the distance, Janice Henry left home and drove to Pearl City.Victor woke her up at seven o'clock with a terrible cough.His fever was almost 105 degrees Fahrenheit.Yawning on the phone, the doctor prescribed rubbing alcohol on the skin to bring the doll's heat down.But there was no rubbing alcohol at home, so she let the feverish, sweaty doll take the cough medicine first, and set off for the city by herself, leaving the Chinese nanny to take care of the baby. Looking from the top of the hill, the port looks like a Sabbath under the white sun that has just risen from the sea.The fleet is moored in the harbor, lined up in the moorings in the morning fog: cruisers, oil tankers and supply ships in twos and threes, groups of gray destroyers and minesweepers, clusters of black submarines.Outside Ford Island, the battleships lined up majesticly in two rows, and the white awnings had been erected; on the nearby airfield, dozens of planes were lined up in several rows with their wings connected to each other, quietly parked there.On a ship, on a pier, or at an airport, there is hardly a single person moving about.Nor was a great ship sailing to disturb the mirrored sea of ​​the harbour.There were only a few small boats going to a church meeting, carrying a few sailors in white uniforms, making little V ripples on the calm green water. Janice got out of the car and looked for her husband's boat.To her disappointment, the "USS Enterprise" aircraft carrier was not only not in the port, but it was nowhere to be seen at sea.She had been looking forward to his return on Sunday morning.She took out the binoculars from the toolbox of the car and looked carefully at the sky.Nothing: only the funnels of an old four-funnel destroyer sticking out of the water, the hull already submerged.With Warren gone, it would be two weeks until Tuesday.Now she was alone, with a sick doll in her arms, leading a life that was terribly boring.What a life!How tiresome it is! Last night, bored and lonely, Janice had accepted an invitation to dance all night at the officers' club by a lieutenant she knew long ago, a Pensacola cutout who was serving with Pacific Fleet Command.Vic had been coughing for days, but his temperature remained normal.Of course, if she had known how ill he was, she would never have stayed out after three o'clock, dancing and drinking.But she still felt guilty and annoyed, so sick of this stupid life. Since returning to Washington, she had been getting more and more bored that she had married not an imposing flamboyant but a fanatical and enterprising naval officer who was sometimes devoted to her but most of the time She was almost invisible.Romance and love take up very little time at best.At the age of twenty-three, she became a babysitter for the Navy, what would happen to Janice Ragucho in the end!She worked half a day translating codes at Fleet Headquarters to avoid evacuation with military families, but that was also a dull and tiring job.Janice is very rebellious at times, but so far she has said nothing to Warren.She is afraid of him.But sooner or later, she will have a showdown with him, even if she wants a divorce. In a small green wooden house at a crossroads, a small grocery store was open, and two fat Japanese children were playing on the rickety porch.Luckily, the grocer stocked some exotic groceries, so she didn't have to drive all the way to town.She had just entered the store when she heard a burst of gunfire over the harbor, as she had heard intermittently during live-fire exercises for months. The owner is standing behind the counter drinking tea.It was a short black-haired Japanese man wearing a floral sweatshirt.On the shelves within arm's reach, there are neat stacks of all kinds of goods: canned food, medicines, pans, brooms, candy, toys, soda, and magazines.Standing under the hanging dried fish, he nodded with a smile and said, "Do you want rubbing alcohol for the skin? Yes, ma'am." After saying that, he walked in through the green curtain behind.The gunfire became louder and louder, and the planes roared overhead.It was a strange time, she thought, for the drills to take place, before the flags were hoisted on Sunday morning; but perhaps it was the right thing to do. Janice walked to the door and found a large number of high-flying planes flying towards the port in a dense formation amidst the black smoke of heavy artillery fire.She got into the car and took out the binoculars.At first all she saw was a blue sky and a cloud of black smoke, then three planes came into view, forming a dazzling silver-white triangle.The plane's wing is painted with a solid orange circle.Stunned, she watched them fly through binoculars. "Really, ma'am? So many planes! What a scale!" The store owner stood beside her, handing her the packaged items with a grin that nearly narrowed his eyes. .His children stood on the porch behind him, pointing to the sky and chirping in shrill Japanese. Janice stared at him with wide eyes.In the U.S. Navy, almost everyone disliked the Japanese in Hawaii and assumed they were spies.She, too, was infected with the emotion.Now, here, the Japanese is grinning at her, and the Japanese plane is actually flying in the sky!Flying over the Hawaiian Islands!This shows what?These shameless Japanese!She took the items and handed him the binoculars with a blunt attitude.The man gave her a nod, then looked up at the planes, which now began to turn and swoop down one by one, flashing silver through puffs of thick black smoke.With a strange sound in his throat, he stood upright calmly, handed back the binoculars to her, and stared blankly at her, his squinting eyes were like black glass.Although the scene presented by the planes painted with orange-red logos was terrifying, it seemed a bit illusory, but the look on his face explained to Janice Henry what happened at Pearl Harbor.With binoculars in hand, she hopped into the car, slamming the door and the engine revving.He banged on the car door, stretched out his hand, palm up, and yelled.It turned out she hadn't paid. Janice had been an honest young woman, but now, with the excitement of a child enjoying herself, she snapped--for the first time in her life using a sailor's swear word--Go to hell!Just hit the full throttle and gallop along the road. That's how Janice Henry saw the war break out.For several years afterwards, she would tell the story to some good friends after drinking, usually to laughter and applause. She stepped on the pedal of the car, and the car quickly climbed up the hill with a sharp howling sound, turned a few turns and drove to the top of the hill; she stopped the car and jumped into the grass on the side of the road.Here she is alone.Below, silvery planes swooped down toward the placid naval base, where the morning fog still hung pearly pink around the battleship.Jets of water shot upward one by one, several ships were set ablaze, and bursts of anti-aircraft fire gave off yellowish flashes.But the scenario still feels more like an exercise than a war. Then she saw a very strange and frightening sight.A battleship has disappeared!In the blink of an eye, this battleship was still standing in the forefront, but it disappeared in an instant, leaving only a big red ball surrounded by yellow and black smoke.A great bang almost deafened her ears; the air wave hit her face like a gentle breeze; a round cloud of black smoke and red flame rose high into the air in a paler column, and then There was another explosion, a burst of beautiful orange and purple, and then another continuous boom!The disappearing battleship appeared dimly again in the telescope, it was already a huge cracked and twisted wreck, its whole body was on fire, and it was tilting and sinking.The sailors ran desperately and jumped into the sea. Some people's white military uniforms were already on fire, and they came and went in and out of the black smoke, screaming silently.The scene looked like a movie, exciting but unreal, but now Janice Henry was starting to feel terrified.There was indeed a battleship going down right under her nose, and it took less than ten minutes from beginning to end!She saw more planes flying over her head.Bombs started to explode on some hills.Thinking of her baby, she sprinted to the car, backed it abruptly onto the road, and drove home at full throttle. The Chinese nanny sat in an armchair, dressed for church, hat on her knees, flipping through her prayer book morosely. "The baby is asleep," she said in clear English; she had been born on the island and raised in a nunnery. "The Gillettes haven't come yet. They've forgotten me. Looks like I have to go to ten o'clock mass. Please give Mrs. Finney a call." "Meianna, do you know that Japan is attacking us?" "what?" "Oh! Can't you hear the cannon? Can't you hear the explosion?" Janice gestured nervously out the window. "Turn the radio on and you'll hear a lot! The Japanese planes are flying over the port. They've sunk a battleship." Victor lay on his back, still asleep after taking cough syrup, breathing loudly and quickly.Janice stripped his hot rosy little body naked.The radio played the mellow sound of a Hawaiian guitar, and a woman sang "Lovely Hula."While Janice sponged the baby, the announcer cheerfully advertised Kashmiri soap, and then another Hawaiian song.The nurse came to the door and asked, "Mrs. Henry, do you really believe there's a war? There's nothing on the radio! I think maybe you just saw a military exercise?" "Oh my God! Maneuvers! How stupid do you think I am? True, I saw a battleship blown up. I saw about a hundred Japanese planes, maybe more! Everyone on the radio was asleep Crazy or deranged. Hey, give him an aspirin, please. His fever's gone down a lot. I'm going to call the Finneys." But the phone line is dead.She pressed the hook several times in succession, but it didn't work. "Sheepwash is the tar that makes cigarettes bitter. Lucky is the only good smoke that doesn't taste like sheepwash." A hearty and cheerful man's voice said. "Smoke Lucky, it's good for your throat—" Janice turned the dial to another radio station and heard the organ playing. "My God! What's the matter?" The nanny leaned against the door with her arms folded, watching Janice with sneering eyes as she turned the dial for the news. "Why, they're crazy! Some of the sailors were on fire, and some jumped into the sea and were washed away by the waves. What's the sound? Who's coming? Is it the Gillettes?" She heard the tires on the car. The creaking of gravel.A fist beat on the door and the doorbell rang.The nurse stared at her mistress without moving.Janice sprinted to the door and opened it, and suddenly Warren Henry stumbled through the door, blood streaming down his face, wearing heavy aviator boots, a tumbler suit, and a blood-stained yellow life jacket. "Hey, do you have twenty dollars?" Warren asked. "My God, Warren!" "Qin, you pay the car fare first," his voice was hoarse, and he spoke very briefly. "Maina, would you like some bandages?" The taxi driver was a sharp-faced old white man, and he said, "Ma'am, I should give me fifty bucks. I hear the Japanese have landed at Kahuku Point. I'm doing it for my own family too." Worrying." She gave him two bills. "My husband said to give you twenty dollars," she said. The driver of the bus pocketed the bill and said, "Even if I have to kill a bloody boat, I'll take the first boat out of here. Every white person in Hawaii will be killed. This is Roosevelt We provoked it." Warren sat bare-chested in the kitchen.The nurse was applying antiseptic to the bleeding left arm. "I'll do it," Janice said, picking up the sponge and the pill bottle, "be careful not to make any mistakes for Victor." Warren gritted his teeth and endured the pain while Janice applied medicine to his two-inch scrubbed wound.He asked her, "Jean, what's wrong with Vic?" "Well, fever. Cough. Honey, what happened to you?" "I've been shot down. Those bastards killed my operator too. Light me a cigarette, please? Our squadron was flying patrol in front of the USS Enterprise, so we ran into them- eh , rub the iodine lightly, enough iodine—what the hell is going on with those goddam Japanese?" "Honey, you've got to go to the hospital and the wound should be stitched up." "No, no. The hospital must be packed. That's one reason I'm here. And I want to make sure you and Vic are safe. I'm going to Ford Island and see what's going on. , maybe we can get a plane there. Those Japanese aircraft carriers are not far away. We are going to counterattack, that's for sure, I don't want to miss this opportunity. Jin, tie it up with a bandage, and put the ear on my ear Just apply medicine to the wound and stick it on. So many blood clots all over my body are formed from the blood dripping from here." Seeing Warren come home suddenly from the battle, completely dropped from the sky, half naked and bleeding profusely, made Janice dizzy with fright.But when she touched his skin, smelled his sweat and blood, and bandaged his wounds, she felt deeply happy and excited again.He talked on and on and was very excited. "God, that's queer--of course I thought those flak blasts were live-fire drills. We could see them from forty miles away. And there's an awful lot of smoke rising from the island into the sky. I Told this to my wingman. Both of us speculated they were burning sugarcane groves. We didn't recognize them at first until six of their planes came out of the sun and swooped down on us. That was the last time I saw To Pier Palanz. I still don't know where he is, and I've tried to keep myself alive since then. My God, look at those guys swooping—whew!" "Honey, don't move." "I'm sorry. Yes, it was a tough one, Jean, and the Dreadnought is a good dive bomber, but these Japanese Zeros are even better! They fly so fast, and they're so nimble! Under the belly of your plane, it's so fast! It's no match for them. They showed bird-like stunts. You can't shake them off, and you can't keep an eye on them. To be honest, the pilots are also top-notch. I I dare not say whether the f4f fighter jets are their opponents, but one thing is certain, that is, a Dreadnought competes with the Zero Type, and it is a dead end. I can only keep spinning around to avoid them. They immediately put De Rashmut Killed. His horrible screams on the comms nearly burst my eardrums, and then he yelled, 'Mr. Henry, I'm bleeding, I'm dying,' and it was over with a snort. I一点办法也没有。他们不断向我飞来，急于把我干掉，其中有一架最后冲过了头，在我的视线内停留了一两秒钟，想掉转身去。我马上用五十毫米口径的机枪向它扫射，肯定它已经开始冒烟，可是我没有确凿的证据。以后我就看不见它了。曳光弹从三面向我射来，正好经过我的窗口，一道道巨大的粉红色曳光发出嗖、嗖、嗖的声音，然后，天呀，我们自己的高射炮开火了！究竟为什么向我开炮，我一点也不知道，那些愚蠢的狗娘养的——也许他们是想打日本人而打错了目标——但是高射炮火却在我的周围爆炸开来。我依旧不知道究竟是谁打中了我，是他们呢，还是日本飞机。我只知道我的汽油箱着火了。可怜的德•拉什穆特，我一声又一声地向他喊叫，直到火焰冲到飞机座舱的周围，可他一句也没有回答，他肯定已经死啦。因此我打开座舱盖跳伞了。直到降落伞张开的时候，我甚至不知道我在什么地方。我看见的只是一片海水。我降落在檀香山海港上空，风把我吹到了岸上。我几乎给缠在迪林汉大道旁边一个小公园的一棵棕榈树上了，但是我解脱出来，降落到地面上。我抓住了那辆出租汽车，跟那家伙磨了很久。他看见降落伞缠满树梢，他看见我怎样解脱——他停下车在一旁观看——但他还是要我付给他五十块钱，才答应把我送回家。好一个爱国者，那家伙！” “亲爱的，我已经把你的血止住一些了。你就安安静静坐一会儿吧，好不好？” “亲爱的。我一定要在今天天黑之前弄到一架打字机，好把这第一次对日本零式飞机作战的报告写出来存档。嘿？怎么样？……你应该去瞧瞧市区的那种景象！”华伦朝他的妻子歪着头咧嘴一笑。“人们出来的时候还穿着睡衣裤，还有穿得更少的，叫喊着，跑来跑去，呆呆地望着天空。老头儿，孩子，抱着婴儿的母亲。真是他妈的傻瓜，在高射炮的碎片象雨点一样到处乱飞的时候还乱跑！唯一安全的地方是屋里。我 还看见那个漂亮的中国姑娘——看到梅安娜使我想起了她——奔跑着穿过迪林汉大道，身上除了一只胸罩和一件粉红色女短裤以外什么也没穿，而且还是透明的小裤衩——真够瞧的——” “你就会留心这类事，”杰妮丝说，“毫无疑问，哪怕你的一只胳膊给打断了，你也会留心这类事。”华伦用他的好胳膊亲昵地抚摸她一下，杰妮丝在他的手上拍了一巴掌。“好吧！我已经把这里的伤口包扎好了。也许可以凑合一个时候。你的耳朵也不流血了。不过我还是觉得你应该到海军航空医疗站去看一看医生。” “那得看时间，那得看时间，”华伦一边做着苦脸挥动他的胳膊，一边穿上衬衫和毛线衣，拉上他外衣的拉链。“我想看看维克。你去把车子开出来。” 一会儿他从屋子里走出来，打开了车门，“嗐，这小鬼睡得挺安静。摸上去挺凉，看样子好象长大了一倍。” “也许热退了，”杰妮丝说罢，停顿了一下，手放在排挡上。车上的无线电收音机正在广播总督的讲话，要求人民保持镇静，强调舰队的损失很小，进攻的敌人已被打退了。“华伦，汽车司机说日本人正在卡胡库角登陆，你觉得会有那个危险吗？还有……” “不会的，不会的。开车吧，登陆？他们在四千英里以外的地方建立一个滩头堡怎么保证供应呢？你会听到各种疯狂的谣言。这是一次打了就跑的空袭。他妈的，这个岛上的高级将领们现在肯定在集体自杀。在所有骗人的把戏中，搞了个星期天早上的偷袭！嘿，多年以来，这一直是个例行战斗问题。” 山顶上一些看热闹的人站在停放的汽车旁边的草地上，指手划脚地交谈着。浓密的黑烟从舰只停泊的地方往上腾起，迅速布满整个天空，遮得太阳象个灰暗的圆球。杰妮丝把汽车停住。华伦通过挡风玻璃用望远镜向港口环视了一遍。 “天哪，琴，福特岛简直成了个废品场了！我看不见一架没有损坏的飞机。但是，飞机库里一定还剩下许多架。老天爷，还有一艘战列舰也沉没了。我敢打赌准有上千人呆在舰上——嘿！老天爷！他们又回来了吗？” 在整个港口，高射炮开始隆隆地响起来，喷出火焰，黑色的高射炮弹又在蓝色的天空里开了花。华伦朝天空望了望。 “真他妈的！他们又来啦。怎么回事？这些混帐的日本人这一次肯定是孤注一掷了，杰妮丝！嗯，这也就是说那些航空母舰依旧在飞机的航程之内，等着它们的飞机回去。好极啦！把位子让给我。我来开车。” 杰妮丝只要不是她自己开车，汽车开得太快她就要紧张，这一点华伦是知道的，但是他象一个抢劫银行后逃走的强盗一样，把汽车开得一阵风似的向珍珠市疾驰而去。他妻子惊魂稍定之后，就开始欣赏这种危险的高速度。现在，在日本人袭击以后，一切都不同了。一切显得更富于冒险性，几乎可以说更好玩。华伦看去是多么漂亮、多么有能力、多么惹人喜爱啊，他用那只没有受伤的胳膊轻松地转动着驾驶盘，绷紧的嘴里叼着香烟，眯起眼睛望着大路。她的厌烦和急躁都消失得无影无踪，也忘记得干干净净了。蘑菇状的黑烟比以前浓厚得多，他们透过挡风玻璃望出去，看见日本飞机一架接着一架着了火从天上掉下来。每掉下一架飞机，华伦都要发出一声欢呼。 舰队的登陆处一片混乱和恐怖。水兵们的脸和手被火烧得起泡，皮肤变成或黄或黑的烧焦的碎片，挂在带血的肉上，被人从救生艇上救出来，或者被穿着血迹斑斑的白色制服的人们抬到担架上，送到医院的救护车里。受伤的人和没有受伤的人都骂着一些下流话，已顾不得挤在登陆处一边咬着手指头一边细细察看受伤者面孔的妇女们，也顾不得那些孩子们，他们有的年纪比较小，在妇女们裙子周围玩着闹着，有的年纪比较大，瞪着大眼看被烧伤的水兵们。有一只救生艇上装满裹着白布的死人，舵手打算靠拢来，一个穿黄咔叽布军服的胖胖的老长官不住地骂他，挥着手叫他走开。高射炮沉重的轰击声和爆炸声，空袭警报的嚎叫声，舰艇汽笛的鸣声，飞机的怒吼声，这一片声响掩盖了一切喧哗，因为第二次空袭正在白热化阶段。空气中充满浓重的火药味，混合着从福特岛周围水面上燃烧着发出浓烟的黑色燃油中散发出的恶臭。华伦•亨利两手搭在臀部上，香烟叼在嘴上，沉着地观看那个可怕而壮烈的场景。杰妮丝用发抖的声音说：“我不知道你怎么渡过海去。” 他心不在焉地点了点头，然后大踏步走到登陆处的终点，到一只带长篷的船那边去。杰妮丝匆匆地跟在他后面。 “掌舵的，这是谁的专用汽艇呀？” 一个拿着舵柄的整洁的舵手，用一只手去拍头发剪得短短的头上一顶戴得很合适的白帽子。这个人宽下巴，古铜色面孔，高个儿，好奇地注视着华伦血污的救生衣，慢吞吞地说：“先生，这是海军将军拉德本的专用汽艇。” “海军将军在海滩上吗？” "Yes, sir." “你知道他在这儿呆多久？” “不知道，先生，他只是要我等着他。” 华伦回头望了一眼沿着登陆处缓缓转动的那只船，随后说：“喂，你瞧，情况就是这样。我是'企业号'航空母舰上的亨利海军上尉。我是个俯冲轰炸机驾驶员。” "Is it so, sir?" “我是在早上起飞的，正当日本人袭击开始的时候。日本人把我从飞机上打下来了。我不得不找另一架飞机，再加入这一场战斗，所以请你把我送到福特岛去好吗？”那个舵手踌躇了一下，然后挺直了身子向他敬了一个礼。 “上船来吧，先生。重要的是把那伙王八蛋打死。原谅我，太太。” “啊，一点也不错，”杰妮丝笑了笑。“我也希望他把那群王八蛋打死。” 华伦站在船尾部，两手叉在屁股上，头发在风中飘动，染血的救生衣敞开着。当专用汽艇驶开的时候，他笑容可掬地望着他的妻子。 “打死他们！”她喊道。“然后回到我身边来。” “我知道。你等这些王八蛋滚了以后再开车回去，不然他们会向你扫射的。再见吧。” 一架红黄相间的日本飞机刚好从他的头上掠过，离地不到二十英尺光景，他急忙把身子弯下去，飞机的马达声响了一阵又消失了；然后那架飞机末了个急转弯，从一艘沉没了的战列舰的深红色船身上面飞过海峡去。华伦站直了身子，依旧咧嘴笑着。杰妮丝目送着海军上将的那只漂亮的专用汽艇——汽艇全身是一片灰色的新油漆、闪亮的铜和雪白的窗帘与绳具——载着她血迹斑斑的丈夫送往海港中部作为海军飞机场的冒着烟火的岛上去了。他挥着手，她也拚命挥手作答。她在舰队登陆处看到的情形已经把她吓坏了；然而她从来也没有感觉到象此刻这样激动，这样富于生命力，这样单纯美好，这样热爱她的丈夫。 在她开车回家的时候，汽车的收音机里有一个军队发言人在广播，他号召人们保持镇静，防止破坏活动，并叫人们放心，敌人的第二次空袭已被击退，我们的舰队只是又受到一点轻微损坏，但日本人却付出了极大的代价。解除警报的汽笛在全岛的上空长鸣。她发现那个女仆坐在扶手椅上听收音机，收音机里又在奏夏威夷音乐了。 “维克多已经很安静了，亨利太太，”她说，“这个仗打得很可怕吗？但是我们会打败他们的。” “洗羊消毒液是使香烟变得苦涩的焦油，”一个欢乐的声音说，“幸运牌是唯一的好烟，没有一点点洗羊消毒液的味道……” 维克多又在他的卧室里咳嗽了，象成人似的咳得又重又凶。“你瞧，他现在又咳嗽起来了，”杰妮丝说。 “太太，自从吃药以后，这是他第一次咳嗽。我一直在听着。” 杰妮丝的表正在十点欠八分上。“是的，已经过了两个钟头左右了。我猜想这都是药水的效力。我打算再给他吃一些。”娃娃身上依旧没发烧。他闭着眼喝了一满匙褐色糖浆，叹了一口气，然后翻过身去。杰妮丝倒在椅子上，不住地出汗，她已经筋疲力尽了，她想着战争已经开始，在她的孩子服两剂咳嗽药的中间太平洋舰队被摧毁了。