the sense to get indoors before it starts to pour.’
* * *
9Oberst – a high-ranking German officer.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Dumont was a chunky sixteen year old. He was light in the brains department, but PT and Marc thought he was a laugh and he knew a lot about hunting and fishing.
With so many people unable to re-enter the military zone the boys had free run over hundreds of abandoned farms. The former tenants were poor, but Dumont claimed to have broken in and stolen all kinds of valuables they’d left behind.
But Dumont claimed all kinds of things, and the only houses he took Marc and PT into contained nothing more valuable than tools and bottles of wine. When they got bored of hunting and burgling they threw stones through windows and Dumont got annoyed because Marc was a much better shot.
PT enjoyed learning about the countryside, but he’d survived on his own wits for more than two years and found Dumont’s bragging and destructive appetites childish. Marc had less reservation. After growing up in the regulated environment of an orphanage he prized nothing more than freedom.
Whilst Marc’s conscience told him that some day people would come home to find busted doors and wine bottles smashed against their walls, he loved the sense of power you got roaming around the empty buildings doing whatever the hell you liked.
It was turning dark as the trio sat on a low wall in the heart of the village. There was a duck pond set in a square, but two shops and a post office were boarded up and the grass on the lawn around the pond was up to knee height. Apart from the wind, the only noise came from a small but lively crew of German soldiers sitting outside a bar across the square.
They were young intellectuals, ranging from late teens to early twenties and from grenadiers to junior officers. They drank wine and smoked cigarettes while they discussed arts and politics and teased each other about their love lives. The bar served good food and they enjoyed the fact that they’d found a secluded spot, away from boorish colleagues who preferred to down half a dozen beers and start throwing punches.
The boys had walked ten kilometres since they’d met up early that afternoon, so their feet ached and they were all hungry, but while the village was only a couple of hundred metres from Dumont’s house, PT and Marc faced a three-kilometre trek back to the farm.
‘You reckon your dad would give us a lift?’ Marc asked.
‘No hope,’ Dumont laughed. ‘He’s only got half a tank of petrol so I reckon his car’s gonna rust before he uses it again.’
‘We’d better shift then,’ PT said, looking up at the sky before turning to Marc. ‘We’re gonna get drenched and I’m starving.’
‘My mum gets pissed off if we let our dinner sit in the oven,’ Marc added.
Dumont fought with his dad and never wanted to go home. ‘C’mon,’ he said. ‘Stop being such mummy’s boys. It’s like, barely eight o’clock.’
‘mummy’s boys?’ Marc said incredulously. ‘You still hold your mummy’s hand when you cross the road.’We’re
PT smiled. ‘She still holds his dick when he takes a piss.’
‘Screw you,’ Dumont said, as he jumped off the wall. ‘You two don’t know shit. You both practically turned green when I slit the innards out of that bunny.’
Marc tutted. ‘At least we don’t chuck the shits over drinking a few glasses of wine.’
‘I told you I can’t help that,’ Dumont moaned. ‘Wine disagrees with my stomach.’
PT imitated Dumont’s voice. ‘Wine disagrees with my sto-mach. Boo hoo, you big fanny. You’re all talk, all mouth. I’ve been listening to you talk bull since lunchtime and I’m going home for some grub and to give my eardrums a break.’
Dumont looked offended. ‘all mouth? What have you two peckers ever done?’I’m
‘More than you,’ Marc said, as he started walking after PT. ‘Catch you around some time tomorrow, I expect.’
‘Have you still got them American dollars?’ Dumont asked.
‘What’s it to you if I have?’ PT asked back.
‘Green open-topped Boche car,’ Dumont said, as he pointed. ‘Parked over beside the bar. You see it?’
‘So what?’ Marc said.
‘I’ll go over there, pull out my cock and piss all over the inside if you give me a ten-dollar bill.’
Marc found the idea hilarious, but PT didn’t like trouble and wasn’t having it. ‘Don’t be stupid. If they catch you they’ll crack your skull open.’
‘You just don’t want to cough up ten dollars,’ Dumont sneered. ‘Because you