Chapter 84 Chapter 83

Operation Jedburgh "Morris" USA: Leslie.Slote, OSS France: Jean. Dr. R. Latour, French Home Army UK: Air Force Private Ella. N. Thompson, RAF Pamela saw Sloter's name on this top-secret list of airdrops from Jedburgh, and immediately decided to go find him.She was desperate for a little bit of Victor.Henry's news.As the days passed, she felt more and more painful thinking about her reply to reject Victor's marriage proposal: she had not heard back from that letter since it was sent.There was silence.She found a business reason to go to Milton Hall--the stately estate at Jedburgh, about sixty miles north of London, where officers were trained--and drove out of the city the next day in a jeep. area, go there.At Milton Hall, she quickly completed her business.They told her, Leslie.Slote was out on a field exercise, and she left him a note with her phone number.As she walked back to the jeep sullenly, she suddenly heard someone call behind her: "Is that Pamela?": not a greeting to her, but a hesitant call. She turned around. All she saw was a man with hair cut A man with a very short, bushy, drooping blond mustache, and a filthy yellow uniform with no markings; this is a completely changed Leslie. Sloter, if he is." You it is good!Is it Leslie? "

The two mustaches stretched out, and Sloter grinned and showed the same faint smile from before.He came up to shake her hand. "I guess I've changed a bit. What the hell are you doing at Milton Hall, Pam? Time for a drink?" "No, thanks. I've got to drive forty miles. My jeep's over there in the parking lot." "Is that Mrs. Burner-Walker?" "Look, no, he fell off while flying in India, and he hasn't recovered yet. I'm going to Storford right now, which is his house on Mount Coombe." She raised her face curiously and consulted him. glance. "Then you are from Jedburgh?"

His face became serious. "How do you know about this?" "Honey, I'm working in the section of the Ministry of Aviation that dropped you off." He laughed, a rough, earnest laugh. "How long can you stay? Where can we sit and talk. Christ, it's a pleasure to see an acquaintance. Yes, I'm a Jed." As far as Pamela was concerned, this was more or less an opportunity. "Victor Henry mentioned that you worked in a division of OSS." "Oh, yes. Do you see the general often these days?" "I get a letter from him now and then. But I haven't had any lately."

"But Pamela, here he is." "Here? In England?" "Of course. Don't you know that? He's been here a long time." "Really! Let's go over there by the lily pond. Can we open up a bit? I see a long stone bench. We can talk for a few minutes." Sloter remembered well how eager Pamela had been to go there when Henry was in Moscow.Her present nonchalance seemed to be on purpose; he guessed that the news had come as a shock to her.They wandered over to the bench and sat down by the edge of the pool.The sun was setting behind the trees; frogs were croaking by the pool.

As expected, Pamela was speechless because of the shock in her heart.Sloter went on alone.He spoke spatteringly.For months, he had no one to talk to.Meanwhile Pamela sat listening to him, her serious eyes shining.He told Pam that he joined OSS because he knew about the German massacre of Jews--which became more and more known by the month, proving that he was not a paranoid patient at all--and that the State Department's indifference Incompetence drove him mad.This drastic action changed his life.He was surprised to find that most people were full of fear like himself.He was as good at skydiving as anybody else, a little bit better than some.He said that when he was a child, he hated violence, and the thugs saw this, so they bullied him, making him always feel timid, and it became more and more serious, and finally became an inescapable idea.Others even kept their fears hidden from themselves, because American men like to pull themselves together and brag about themselves, but he's always been too self-analytical to pretend he wasn't a coward.

"I've come a long way, Pam!" When he first jumped out of an airplane in America, the man in front of him in line, a well-built army captain who had done well in training, refused to jump; he looked out The view far below.Frozen with fright, he cursed hysterically in the village dialect and resisted the push of the dispatcher.Immediately after he had been pushed aside, Slote jumped—in his own words—with “the glee of an imbecile” into the roaring slipstream.Secure the ripcord to deploy his parachute.The shock made his body straighten suddenly.He tugged on the parachute and floated down triumphantly, landing like a circus performer.Afterwards, he trembled, sweated and felt complacent just thinking about it for several days.He never skipped another half as good as that one.For him, skydiving was a dreaded task.He didn't like it very much.There were plenty of OSS guys and Jed like him, and all ready to admit it publicly, though there were some who liked to dance.

"Passing psychological test after test made me dizzy with fright, Pamela. I volunteered this time, and in hindsight I was a little shaken. I told the supervisors in Jedburgh bluntly that I was a nervous man. Cowards. They looked skeptical and asked me why I was applying for this. So I babbled on them about jewish nonsense. They put me in the 'problematic' category. Psychiatrist observed I passed after a few weeks. They must be very lacking in Jed. Physically, I'm certainly fit. My French, at least to American ears, is pretty passable." Pamela knew in her heart that he would go on talking in this mood without mentioning Victor.Henry. "I've got to go, Leslie. Walk with me to my jeep." Pamela asked over the roar of the motor, turning the key. "Where is Colonel Henry? Do you know?"

"It's Major General Henry, Pam," Sloter said, suppressing a laugh. "I've told you that." "I thought you were joking." "No, no. It's Rear Admiral Henry, flashing gold rims and battle medals and stars. I met him at our embassy. Go look for the American amphibious base at Exeter. He said going there." She reached out and shook his hand.He kissed her quickly on the cheek. "Goodbye, Pam. Lord, it seems like a hundred years since the party in Paris! I had a drink with Phil Ruhl in London last month. He's gone very dull." "Because of the alcohol. I saw him last year in Moscow. He was plump and strong, and he was always drunk. Victor wrote to tell me that Natalie stayed in a Czech ghetto. Here, wait for the war to end."

"Yes, he told me that too." Sloter nodded, and his face fell. "Pamela, we were all young and happy when we were in Paris." "Really? We're trying really hard to be Ernest. Hemingway. So presumptuous, so silly. I remember Phil always putting that black comb under his nose and doing Hitler's recitation of Mother Goose." We always laughed out loud." She started the jeep and raised her voice and said, "It's funny. That's how it was then. Good luck with your mission, Leslie. I admire you." "It took me a long time to find you." Pamela's voice came from the phone, affectionate and happy.Victor.Hearing this hoarse voice, Henry felt very painful. "Will you happen to be in London on Thursday?"

"Okay, Pamela, I'll come." "That's great. Then come and have supper with us—with Duncan and me—at Storford. It's only half an hour from the city to Storford." Pug was sitting in the Admiral's office at the Devonport shipyard.From the window, hundreds of landing craft were moored in the harbor, stretching out of sight in the gray drizzle.The array of ships was so densely packed that no trace of water could be seen from coast to coast.Back home, Pug dealt with abstractions: production schedules, progress reports, inventory lists, plans of all kinds.Here is the actual thing: swarms of hulking iron and steel ships—LCIs, LCMs, LCSs, LMCs—grotesquely shaped, large and small, like grains of wheat harvested in America, seemingly nothing at all. countless.But Pug knew the exact number of ships of every kind here, and every other mustering place along the coast.He had been toiling from base to base, trying to restrain himself from calling Pamela.Tudsbury, but she found him.

"How do I get there?" "Take the Expeditionary High Command shuttle to Bushy Park. I'll pick you up there by car around four. We can talk for a while. Duncan sleeps from four to six. That's what the doctor ordered." "How is he?" "Oh—not so good. There are several others here for dinner, including General Eisenhower." "Yo! VIPs as far as I'm concerned, Pamela." "Not necessarily, Major General Henry." "The major general has only two stars, and it's only a temporary two" "Eisenhower's Air Force Commander Leigh Mallory is here too." There was a moment of silence.Then Pam jokingly said, "Okay, how about we two keep the war going? See you at four o'clock on Thursday, outside Expeditionary Force headquarters." Pug could not guess what the invitation was for.Pamela is also not easy to tell him.Of course she was anxious to see him, but there was a special purpose in inviting him to this senior general's dinner party. In the anxious days leading up to the date of the attack, the planned airborne attack on Utah Beach, the westernmost part of the U.S. landing area, was hotly debated.Behind the beach there is a swampy lagoon, only accessible by some narrow causeways.Before the Germans had time to block or blow up these causeways.Need to send airborne troops to get them first.Otherwise, the landing force might be stuck on the beach, unable to advance, and vulnerable to swift annihilation.Utah Beach is the closest landing area to Cherbourg.In Eisenhower's view, in order for Operation Overlord to succeed, it had to be captured. Trafford.Sir Leigh-Mallory, who was tasked with airlifting in the glider and paratroop troops, objected to the air operation, arguing that it would have been met with devastating anti-aircraft fire over the Cotentin peninsula, with losses of more than Fifty percent, and the rest of those who passed would be wiped out on the ground.This would be a crime of sacrificing two elite divisions for nothing.Even if it meant canceling the landing at Utah Beach, he wanted the raid to be foregone.American generals did not agree to abandon the Utah landing or its air operations.But Leigh-Mallory fought the Germans in the air for five years.His insight and his perseverance are undisputed.This became an impasse. Such stalemates are commonplace and often disastrous in the history of joint operations.Adolf.Hitler probably hoped until the very end that his enemies would fall out in this way.This Anglo-American offense was full of disputes from start to finish, but Dwight.Eisenhower, however, kept this major offensive tightly organized until his forces met the Russians on the Elbe.So, he earned his place in military history.To sum it up in one sentence—because the attack on Utah Beach was not part of our story—Eisenhower finally took responsibility and ordered Leigh-Mallory to carry out the plan.With air support, Utah Beach was a quick, smooth landing.The causeway was taken.Airborne casualties were fewer than expected.Leigh-Mallory phoned the next day to apologize to Eisenhower "for burdening him."A few years later, Eisenhower said that his happiest moment in the whole war was when he got the news that the two airborne divisions had started fighting on Utah Beach. Leigh-Mallory was still boycotting the Utah Beach operation when Pamela called Pug that day.Burner-Walker arranged this dinner with Eisenhower so that his old friend could make his case.Eisenhower's country residence, Telegraph Cottage, near Stoneford.The sick Burner-Walker kept a stable of fine horses; Eisenhower loved riding.Burner-Walker bridge was not bad; it was Eisenhower's game too.They had worked together in North Africa, so they got along very well as neighbors. Burner-Walker also thinks the Utah Beach airdrop is a disastrous proposition.In general, Burner-Walker was looking at the world and the war through the melancholy veil that patients often have.He saw an apocalyptic sense of American manpower and arms pouring into Britain; he saw the pride of the British Empire evaporate in the face of lollipops, chewing gum, Virginia cigarettes and cans of beer.Even so, when Pamela proposed to invite Pug.Henry, he enthusiastically agreed.Jealousy was either completely absent, or veiled so as not to appear in Lord Burner-Walker's character.He thought that the presence of Major General Henry might reduce the tension of the dinner. Pug had met Vinsenhower briefly once.When he first arrived in England, he sent Eisenhower a message from President Roosevelt about bombing French railway yards, terminals, locomotives and bridges.The French were former comrades-in-arms of the British, and the political consequences of killing the French bothered the British very much.They forced Eisenhower to stop bombing the French.Roosevelt called Victor.Henry sent word that he wanted the bombing to continue. (Later, the president had to put this cold hearted opinion of his on paper due to Churchill's constant bickering).At their meeting, Eisenhower accepted the grim message with a cold, satisfied nod and made no further comments.He said a few friendly words about Pug's sharpness from his old football game with the Army.Next, he asked shrewdly questions about Pag's close-support bombardment in the Pacific, and some pointed questions about naval fire support plans for Operation Overlord.Pug left after sitting for half an hour, feeling that this man had a hint of Roosevelt's leadership spirit. Behind his gentle and enthusiastic attitude and charming smile, he was at least an Oster.Kim is equally tenacious guy, so this attack will be successful. Dining with him did not excite Pug very much.He had seen enough of the great men of war.He was very uncertain about how he would react when he saw Pamela again.One thing he was sure of: she would not make him feel the pain of rejection again, and he would not try to change her mind by words or gestures. Pamela drove to Bushy Park in the Burner-Walker Bentley with dread and longing to see Pug again.Henry.A woman can handle almost anything, except being left alone.The unexpected discovery that Pug had arrived in England early this time nearly broke her heart. Since returning to the UK, Pamela has been finding out what she thinks of Duncan.Not a very pleasant aspect of the obligations undertaken by Burner-Walker.She knew now that he had a sprightly, irritating eighty-seven-year-old mother who, when Pam came to his house, spoke to her as she would to a summoned nurse.In addition, there were many brothers and sisters in his family, nephews and nieces, nephews and nieces, and they all seemed too snobbish to take her seriously.On the whole, she and Burner-Walker maintained the relaxed closeness that had formerly been in the RAF, though illness and inactivity made him increasingly irritable.In the tense life of the war she had been very fond of Burner-Walker, and having lost any other prospects, had accepted his marriage proposal.Pug's unexpected marriage proposal came too late.Nevertheless, Stoneford, however imposing, was a great burden to her.Duncan's family is another burden.Both events would have been tolerable if she had been deeply in love, but in practice they were frustrating and embarrassing.The real annoyance was that her letter of rejection of Pug's marriage proposal had actually solved nothing in her mind.For several weeks, there was no answer to a single word!Then, find out from someone else that he's here!After that letter, after the only action she had taken that pissed him off, would he be as chilled as he had been with his own woman?What a terrible man!In this mood of ups and downs, she drove into Shixi Park and saw Victor.Henry stood on the station. "You look so handsome." The female student's tone and language poured out of her mouth. His smile is far-fetched and reserved. "It's this broad gold stripe that makes you feel that way." "Not this one, Major General." She studied his face with her eyes. "Honestly, the war has made you look a little bit Viktor. But you're so American. Really American. They should put your picture on Mount Rushmore." "Thanks for saying that, Pam. Isn't that what you wore on the Bremen?" "Yo! You still remember." Her face blushed hotly. "I'm in plain clothes now. I used to like them. It's in the closet—I don't know if I'll wear it. How long are you going to stay here?" "Fly back tomorrow night." "Minger! Are you in such a hurry?" "One night in Washington, then fly to the Pacific. Tell me, how is Duncan?" Distraught as they drove (tomorrow!), she recounted Burner-Walker's elusive symptoms with great poise: abdominal pain, often low-grade fever, some days seemed to return to health , and some days feel extremely tired.At the moment, his condition is not good, and he can hardly move around in the garden.The doctors speculated that some tropical contagion had entered his blood from his wounds and concussions.It might be months or a year before he gets rid of it, but it might just be okay.Right now, the patient's lifestyle must be strictly followed: less activity, more sleep, prolonged bed rest during the day, and a lot of pills. "He must be mad." "Yes. Now, he's always sitting in the sun and just reading like that. And he's writing articles, pretty mysterious stuff, in the style of Saint-Exupéry. Flying plus "Song of the Great God." Seriously." Yeah, aviation and Vishnu just don't go together, not to my liking. I asked him to write about the China-Burma-India battlefield, which is a great story that no one has ever told in this war. But he says he's got too many strange thoughts. It's Storford." "It's very grand here." "Yeah, isn't the front nice?" She was driving the car through the wrought-iron gates that opened between the brick pillars.Ahead, in the middle of a green lawn, a long straight gravel avenue led to a broad brick house lined with towering oak trees, which glowed rosy red in the sun. "The first Viscount bought the place and added two wings. Actually, it's dilapidated inside, Pug. Lady Caroline took in a lot of ghetto children during the heavy air raids; Great. Ken never had a chance to fix it up. We live in the reception wing right now. The little savages never go there. I have a nice set of rooms. Let's go up there for tea first. , and then take a walk in the garden, waiting for Duncan to wake up." When they had gone up to the second floor, Pamela casually pointed out that she and Bonner.Walker lived on opposite sides of the house, his room looking out on the oak trees, hers on the garden. "You don't have to walk on your belly," she said as they passed his door. "He sleeps like a dormouse." Tea was served awkwardly by an aging woman in a maid's attire.Pug and Pamela sat by the long window overlooking the weedy flower beds. "It's going to be a jungle soon," she said. "You can't hire people. They're fighting all over the world. Mrs. Robinson and her husband tend the place. The woman who came in with the tea was the clumsy woman who used to be a poor laundry maid. Her husband was a Old drunkard. Duncan's old cook stayed, which is good. I have a job at the ministry, and I'm trying to come up here most evenings. That's how I am, Pug. How are you?" "Madeline married the young naval officer." "That's wonderful!" "They stayed in New Mexico. It was the most pleasant change in my life. Byron got his Bronze Medal. By all accounts, he was a good submarine officer. Janice was in law school. My three Grandson of , an astonishing little genius. Natalie has some hope too. A Red Cross delegation from a neutral country is soon to visit her camp, ghetto, or whatever you call it, so maybe We'll get a little bit of information. If the Germans put Red Cross people in, the place can't be too bad. That's my situation." Although Pug's tone showed that he had finished speaking, Pamela couldn't help asking, "Where's Rhoda?" "In Reno, for the divorce. You said we'd go for a walk in the garden, didn't you?" Get divorced!But his manner was so distant, cold, and frustrating that she couldn't talk about it any further. He spoke again when they were outside. "This is not a jungle." The raised rose-beds were filled with well-tended shrubs, all budding. "Duncan loved roses. He used to spend hours here when he was well. Tell me about your promotion." Pug.Henry cheered up. "Honestly, it's a long story, Pam." The President invited him to Hyde Park, he said.He hadn't seen Roosevelt since Tehran and found him startlingly old.They dined at a long table, the only other person was the president's daughter.In a small study after dinner, Roosevelt talked about the landing craft program.The emaciated president had one thing on his mind for no apparent reason.He feared that enemy action in the first few days might damage or sink a large number of ships.It could be weeks before Cherbourg is captured and the larger supply ships can take over the logistics.At the same time, it will also be imperative to promptly salvage sunken or damaged landing craft and re-launch them.He had long requested a report on this arrangement, and had never received anything satisfactory.If Pug could go to England and inspect the facilities, he would "sleep more deeply."When Pug said goodbye the next morning.The president jokingly said something like "good luck with your future" which is confusing.Immediately after Pug returned to Washington from Hyde Park, Admiral King summoned him and told him to his face that he had acquired two stars and a squadron of battleships in the Pacific. "A battleship squadron, Pug!" Pamela grabbed his arm as they strolled through a blossoming apple orchard. "That's wonderful! A squadron!" "Kim says it's pay for a job well done. He knows I can command a battleship squadron if necessary. That squadron has two ships, Pam. Our best two,' IA The Hua' and the 'New Jersey', and—what's the matter?" "Nothing, nothing at all." Pamela was covering her eyes with a handkerchief. "Hi, Pug!" "Well, this is the best job I could have hoped for in my life. A complete surprise." Pug shrugged wearily. "Of course it's an aircraft carrier war there, Pam. The battleships are mostly bombarding the beachheads. I'll probably just sit in the fancy flagship command room and drive around, signing papers and puffing up until it's over." .An admiral who sails the seas is likely to be a worthless fellow." "It's amazing," said Pamela. "It's downright, down-to-earth, and vigorously amazing." Pug smiled sadly at her.It was the smile she had loved on board the Bremen and was still happy with. "I agree. Is Duncan already awake?" "Why, it's six o'clock. Where's all the time? Let's run like deer." Before dinner, they drank on the terrace.Eisenhower arrived late, pale and irritable, declining a whiskey and soda.When Mrs. Somersby, his driver, took a drink with alacrity, he gave her a sullen glance.This was the first time Pug had seen this woman who was full of trouble.Kay.Even in uniform Somersby looked the same fashion model she had been before the war: tall, lithe, with a high-cheekboned, powerful face and big, confident eyes, a A full-fledged professional beauty, she put on a slightly naughty military appearance.Since the general was not drinking, the others gulped down the whiskey and water, and the conversation was weary. The little dining room opened out into the garden; from the French windows the sweet scent of flowers wafted in.For a while it was the only pleasant thing going on.The washermaid shambled to and fro, bringing in the lamb, boiled potatoes and kale.Burner-Walker, tanned, scarred, and ghostly thin, was talking to Mrs. Summersby.Pamela had Eisenhower on her right and Leigh Mallory on her left, but she could hardly get either of them to talk.They just sat there, eating sullenly.in Pug.From Henry's point of view, the dinner was a disaster.Leigh-Mallory was a stodgy, typical RAF officer, stocky, stocky, with a mustache.He kept turning his eyes, sneaking glances at Kai who was sitting beside him.Summers glanced as if the woman was sitting there naked. But Burner-Walker's good claret and Pug's presence finally made things better.Leigh-Mallory spoke of the intensification of the offensive to free Imphal.According to Burner-Walker, perhaps only Leningrad was besieged the longest during the war.Pamela raised her voice and said, "Pug was there during the siege of Leningrad." Hearing this, Eisenhower shook his head and rubbed his eyes, like a person waking up from sleep. "Were you there, Henry? In Leningrad? Tell us about it." Pug said.The imminent attack on the Continent seemed to weigh heavily on the hearts of both senior commanders, so a story was well timed.He spoke with ease and fluency of silvery and silent Leningrad, of the apartment of Yevlenko's daughter-in-law, and of the many horrors of the siege.Leigh-Mallory's stern face relaxed and he listened with interest.Eisenhower stared at Pug with wide eyes, smoking one cigarette after another.After Pug finished speaking, he commented: "Very interesting. I didn't know any of us had been there. I didn't see any information on it." "Strictly speaking, I was an observer for Lend-Lease supplies, Admiral. I did send a supplementary report on combat to Naval Intelligence." "Kay, ask Lee to transfer this material from Naval Intelligence tomorrow." "Yes, General." "That fellow Yevlenko—he's the one who took you to Stalingrad, didn't he?" Leigh-Mallory asked. "Yes, but the fighting there was over by then." "Tell us that too," Eisenhower said. Burner-Walker gestured for the laundry maid to bring some more claret. The atmosphere at the table lightened up by now. Garg described the rough, raucous reception in the Stalingrad cellar.When Eisenhower laughed, Leigh-Mallory forced a laugh too. Eisenhower's face darkened again, and he said, "Henry, you know these people well. Will they launch an attack in the East as soon as we get into action? Harriman assured me that the attack has been launched, but many people here are skeptical." .” Pug thought for a moment. "They'll move, General. I guess they'll move. Politically, they're unpredictable, and might strike us as capricious. Truth be told, they don't see the world the way we do, and they don't speak the same language as we do. .That may not change at any time. But I think they will abide by this military obligation that they have assumed.” The Supreme Commander nodded vigorously. "Why?" Leigh-Mallory asked. "For self-interest, of course," Eisenhower said almost sharply. "I agree with you, Henry. The best time to hit a man is when his hands are empty. They're bound to move." "And," said Pug, "for a sense of honor. They have that." "If they have so much in common with us," Eisenhower said gravely, "then we can get along with them when the time comes. We can count on that." "I doubt it," Leigh-Mallory said, in thickly mocking tones. "Look at the quarrels we have when we walk together, General; we have English as our common language." Kay."We just seem to be," said Summersby, sweetly speaking in May City's accent. Trafford.Sir Leigh-Mallory turned to her with a candid laugh, raising his glass to her at the same time. Eisenhower grinned broadly and warmly at Mrs. Somersby. "Okay, Kay, now I want to talk to these two friends from the Royal Air Force for a while-with gestures, of course." The Supreme Commander's joke naturally aroused roars of laughter.Everyone stood up.Eisenhower said to Burner-Walker, "Maybe we can play a game of bridge later." Pamela invited Pug and Mrs. Somersby out on the terrace for brandy and coffee, but when they were outside, Kay.Summersby did not sit down. "Look, Pam," she said, moving her eye mischievously from Henry's face to Pamela's quickly, "they'll talk for a while. I've got a lot going on at the cottage." Do. You and the Major-General won't be offended if I slip back for a while and play bridge again?" She left after speaking.The general's car rattled down the gravel road. Pamela knew perfectly well that Mrs. Somersby, with her keen intuition, was leaving herself perhaps to Victor in her life.Henry's last chance.She immediately launched an attack.In order to get anything done, she had to provoke a drama. "You must really disapprove of Kay. Or are you just using another standard for great people?" "That's all I can see of her, and nothing else." "That's true. I know them quite well, and in fact I know that must be the case." Pug made no comment. "I'm sorry you couldn't be more lenient with your wife." "I'm going to keep it going. You know that. Rhoda doesn't like that." "You treat her coldly." Pug said nothing. "Will she be happy with that person?" "I don't know that. I'm worried, Pam." He told her all about the anonymous letters and his conversation with Peters on the train. “从那以后，我只遇见过他一次，就是罗达动身上里诺去的那天。他来陪她到车站去。在她梳妆打扮的时候，我们谈了谈。他这么做并不快活。我想眼下他无非是做着一件该做的事情。” “可怜的罗达！”听了帕格。亨利说给她听的这些话以后，帕米拉在感情冲动下所能说的就只这么一句。这是拼板玩具中最后的一小块。在帕米拉看来，彼得斯好象一直是一个严厉、机灵的人，所以她的直觉是，在罗达。亨利使他和她结婚以前，他就会看穿她，把她抛弃掉。他已经看穿她了，然而婚礼还在筹备。Victor.亨利当真自由了。 这时，夜色已经黑沉沉的。他们坐在星光下面。近处，有一只鸟儿正在吐出圆润的歌声。“这是不是夜莺？”帕格问。 "yes." “上一次我听见一只夜莺叫，是在飞机场上，就在我起飞到柏林上空去的那一晚。” “哦，不错。你那次还使我受了一场那么痛苦的折磨。只不过那次折磨持续了二十小时，不是六星期。” He stared at her. “六星期吗？你在说些什么？” “自从我写那封信给你以后，到今天恰恰六星期零三天。你干嘛始终不回我一封信呢？就回一句话，随便什么话？再说，为什么要我偶然碰巧才知道你到了英国呢？你难道这么恨我吗？” “我并不恨你，帕姆。不要瞎胡扯啦。” “可我该受到的就是，给扔进外边黑暗里去。” “我能写点儿什么话给你呢？” “暧，我也不知道。比方说吧，殷勤地向我告个别。甚至不难想象，死乞白赖地拒绝接受否定的答复。随便什么小迹象，只要表示一下你没有因为一个万分痛苦的决定而憎恨我、轻视我。我告诉过你，写那封信的时候，泪水使我两眼迷糊。你不相信我的话吗？” “我写过殷勤地向你告别的信，”他没精打采地说。“你难道想象不出那种情况吗？我也写过拒绝接受否定答复的信。我撕掉了好多封信。没有一个合式的答复方法。我不乐意央告一个女人改变主意，我也不认为央音有什么用。不论怎么说，我对这件事实在做不好。” “我知道，你确实觉得把自己的情绪写出来很难下笔，是不是呢？”听到他撕掉了好多封信，帕米拉胸中涌起了快乐的情绪。她用有力的音调继续说了下去。“再说，你那个结婚的提议！你唠唠叨叨一再谈到钱的那种方式——” “钱是很重要的。男人应该让女人知道，她接受的可能是一个什么样的情况。不管怎么说，谈这一切现在又有什么用呢，帕米拉？” “真该死，维克多，我得把话明说出来啦！你那封信来得不能再不凑巧了。自从回了你那封信以后，我一直感到痛苦。当斯鲁特说你在这儿时，我一生中从来没感到过那么吃惊了。我以为我会痛苦得死去。现在瞧见你，简直叫人高兴得难以相信。这是十足的魔难。”帕米拉站起身，走到依旧坐在椅子上的帕格面前，朝着他伸出了两只胳膊，她的胳膊在初升起的月亮光下显得朦胧、洁白。“我在莫斯科对你说过，我在德黑兰也对你说过，我现在再对你说最后一次，我爱的是你，不是邓肯。事情就是这样。现在，你说呗。说呀，维克多。亨利，明说出来吧！你要我还是不要我？” 沉默了一会儿后，他温和地说：“哎，帕米拉，我慢慢再告诉你。我要考虑一下。” 这是一个如此意想不到的、令人泄气的答复，以致有一刹那帕姆疑心他是在戏弄她。她扑向他去，一把抓住他的肩膀，摇撼起他来。 “你是在摇撼拉什莫尔山，”他说。 “我要把它摇坍下！这个该死的迂腐呆板的美国佬纪念碑！” 他紧紧握住了她的两手，站起身，把她搂到怀里，和她长时间热烈地接吻。接着，他握住她，身子稍微退后一点儿，热切地仔细打量着她的脸。 “好，帕米拉。六星期以前你拒绝了我。出了什么变化呢少”罗达走啦。这是我那时候没法相信的。现在，我知道她的确走了。你又和我一块儿呆在这儿，不是给整个该死的行星分隔开来。自从写了那封信给你以后，我一直很伤心，现在我又快活了。我不得不对不起邓肯，就是这样。可这是我的终身大事。 " “这真叫我吃惊。老罗达说，你所需要的就是好好追求一下。” “她这么说吗？聪明的女人，但是你从来就没追求过我，你也决不会追求。我是这样一个大胆孟浪的娘儿们，这倒是一件好事，你说是吗？” 他坐到了露台的栏杆上，把她拉到了身边。“你听我说，帕米拉。太平洋那边的战争可能会拖上一个长时期。日本人还在那儿逞凶肆虐。万一发生了一场海战，我很可能会参加，也可能结果会遭到什么意外。” “是这样吗？你这说的是什么话呢？说我应该谨慎一点儿，不要跟邓肯一刀两断吗？是不是什么象这样的话？” “我说的是，你现在不必作出决定。我爱你，上帝知道我需要你，不过记住你在德黑兰所说的话。” “我在德黑兰说什么来着？” “你说咱们这些很难得的会面，勾起了一种风流的幻想，是战争时期的一件没有实质的事情，等等——” “我情愿拿我的余生来打赌，那全是撒谎。我马上就得告诉邓肯，亲爱的。现在，没有其他的可能了。他也不会感到惊讶，情感上受到损害，那是肯定的，真该死，我对这也真害怕，可是——哟，基督啊，我听见他们在说话啦。”其他那几个人的声音在屋子里不很清晰地响了起来。“他们并没谈上多一会儿，是吗？咱们也没安排好什么，什么也没安排好！帕格，我快活得晕头转向啦。明儿八点钟打电话到航空部来找我，亲爱的好人儿。现在，瞧在上帝份上，再亲我一下。” 他们再次接吻。“真有可能吗？”帕格嘟哝着这句话，一面目光炯炯地盯视着她的脸。“我真有可能再快活吗？” 他跟利—马洛里一起乘车回伦敦。汽车疾驶过月光照耀的大路开往市区，然后转弯抹角，经过灯火管制的街道，去到帕格的住处。一路上，这位空军中将一句话也没说。跟艾森豪威尔的会谈显然进行得并不顺利。不过就帕格来说，互不交谈倒是好事，因为他可以细细去体会自己心头洋溢的令人惊愕的快乐情绪。 汽车停下时，利—马洛里叹声而突兀地说：“你说的有关俄国人的荣誉感的话，叫我很感兴趣，少将。你认为我们英国人也有荣誉感吗？” 他嗓音里流露出的情绪，他的不很自然的神色，迫使帕格很快镇定下来。 “中将，不论我们美国人有什么，我们都是打你们这儿学来的。” 利一马洛里和他握了握手，注视着他的眼睛，说：“会见你我挺高兴。” 对欧洲大陆大举进攻的前夕。Ten o'clock at night. 一架孤零零的哈利法克斯式轰炸机在英吉利海峡上空低低飞行，杰德堡行动组“莫里斯”出动了。这些杰德是这个庞大的进攻机器中的一只小嵌齿。他们的任务是和法国抵抗运动取得联络，向游击队员提供武器和军需，并且使他们跟盟军的进攻计划协调一致。这些三人行动组从大举进攻的那天开始，就陆续空降到法国境内，他们立下了一些功劳，蒙受了一些损失。没有他们，这场战争无疑也会打赢，但是详尽周密的霸王行动计划中也安排有这一个细节。 话说这晚，莱斯里。斯鲁特——一个获得罗兹奖学金的学者，以前的外交官，一辈子看不起自己的胆怯的人——发觉自己跟他的报务员，约克郡的一个脸盘儿象婴孩的空军士兵和一个法国牙医生，他跟抵抗运动的联络员，一起蜷缩在那架嗡嗡作响的哈利法克斯式轰炸机上。在飞机轰鸣着掠过月光粼粼的海水上空、驶向布列塔尼半岛时，莱斯里。斯鲁特正在估量自己是否有可能活很久。一个罗兹奖学金的学者在运动方面必须十分出色；他一向总把身体保持得很强健。他的头脑很敏捷。他已经多少掌握了游击战的技巧：跳跃，使用小刀和绳子，悄悄地行动，悄悄地杀人，以及诸如此类的事。但是直到最后，直到他发觉自己行动起来的这一刻，一切似乎全是拼命在演戏、是模拟的好莱坞式的战斗场面。现在，真正的事情临到头上来了。不论在内心里啼啼咕咕的畏惧是什么情形，外表的感觉却是轻松；等待至少是过去了。那十二万五千名登船的部队，大概也都有同样的感觉。在大举进攻的那天，没几个人欢呼。荣誉在于使我们的头脑专注在机动车、爆炸物和大火这片震动性的大旋涡上，并且做我们奉命去做的工作，除非我们给击毙或是给炸死。 Leslie.斯鲁特做了指派给他的工作。时间到来了，他跳下去。降落伞张开时的震动是剧烈的。几秒钟后（似乎是如此），着陆使他再一次受到强烈的震动。该死的皇家空军又空投得太低啦，好歹总算着陆了！ 他还在解下降落伞时，强有力的胳膊已经抱住了他。络腮胡子擦过了他的脸。只听见一阵急促不清的道地法国话，还闻到喘息中传来的一股酒和大蒜气味。牙医生从夜色中走了出来。那个年轻的约克郡人给围在一丛满脸激动、欢欣鼓舞的法国武装人员当中。 我完成了这项任务，莱斯里。斯鲁特心想，我要活下去；上帝在上，我一定会活下去。这种汹涌澎湃的自信心是他以前从来没感到过的。那个牙医生在发号施令。斯鲁特执行了他的第一道欢乐的命令，也就是喝下一只石杯里的葡萄酒。接下去，他们在月光下着手把空投在那片宁静、芳香的草场上的供应品木箱收集拢来。