Lt. Stanislaw rides into Kozle |
"Cap," shake, shake, "Cap."
And wake up. "Eddie, wha..."
"Leo's done a stupid." And he's rabbiting off to get the others awake.
I can hear voices talking over-load in, Polish. Yeah, Polish. My command of the language is basic. Sounds like vodka and peaches...
Leo: "That is good"
other male: "Put it in one of those morning pouches"
Leo: "Eggs?"
other male: "Good for the day after"
Leo: laughs "Just open another bottle"
other male: laughs
Leo, an armed man in a Polish uniform with a blue armband, and a horse, with of all things, a lance socketed upright in the saddle. Leo has one of his stash of potato juice out and the new fella is scarfing down an MRE. Down on the roadside, about 60 yards from our blind, three others stand with rifles and horses.
"Leo, what's going on?" Just enough bite to let him know to pay attention, not enough to spook the stranger. It worked on pit crews in the pastit should get through to him.
"Captain, meet new friend. Hmmm. What's name?
"Stanislaw, Lietenant, 5th Lance." He grins, slurps some more peaches and vodka.
"He named Lt. Stanislaw"
"And would you ask the nice Lieutenant, why his men are talking on the radio."
Leo turns, "My friend, I give you booze. Why you rat me out? Who they talking to?"
"Comrade," Stanislaw grasps Leo's shoulder, "we are a the vanguard of a patrol. I don't want my men to come around the bend and see their beloved lieutenant in Russian hands without warning. They might get the wrong idea."
Leo starts to translate all that back to me, but I got the gist of it. I ask, "How many? In patrol?"
"20."
4 to 1. Stanislaw must see the frustration flash across my face.
"No worries. My men see you up here and me up here. They see us talking. They'll know it is good. Besides, they love me too much to want me dead!"
Stanislaw has entirely too good an opinion of himself. "And then?" I pull at my American BDUs. and gesture at him top to bottom. "We're not ... friends."
He turns, tapping at his blue armband with the letters WS emblazoned on them. "We're not Polish. We're Army of Silesia. We told off those bastards in Lodz. Shot any who couldn't run fast enough. We intend to stay that way."
More men on horseback canter up the road; rifles, lances and a little cart with a machine-gun. Stanislaw continues as I get a headcount. I need Leo to translate some for me.
"I have special orders with respect to American stragglers. While I am expected to escort you to Kozle, I am not to disarm you. You will be treated with the dignity and respect offered to co-belligerents. I am to stay with you as surety to your safety. The Baron would like first hand accounts of whatever you have encountered and will at least be able to offer you a safe night's rest. Maybe more. Or I can escort you out of our lands, back north, the way you came."
I wish my bullshit detector was going off. He's either a smooth liar or he really means it. 4-1, but he's the second to die if they try anything. He cannot be that cold-blooded.
"Leo, tell him we're going to go to Kozle," I wait as that is conveyed. "And I would greatly enjoy is company on the trip."
Stanislaw shouts the happy news down to his men. They give a "Urrah!" and pump fists in the air. He turns to me, reaches out to shake my hand, and warmly smiles, "Welcome to Silesia."
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