Opening Moves

“Excuse me,” swiftly saluting both, “I need to answer a call of nature,” and Ramsey was quickly gone.

“He means he needs piss Major,” confided Yarishlov, in the style of a teacher back in his old school.

“Musta needed it badly that’s all I can say Colonel.” Gazing with scant interest at a retreating Ramsey, “Looks a bit weak in spine to me.”

Yarishlov looked directly at Parker, face smiling, eyes not.

“That being caused of bullet from a fascist sniper Major.”

He turned his gaze in the direction of the disappearing Englishman.

“He also wears the Victoria medal, so his spine is not being so weak. You might not have see that. Anyway, it have been too much coffee for him I thinks Major.”

“So he’s been around the block too. Medals everywhere around here,” dismissed the American, actually annoying Arkady.

“Anything I can help you with before we move off Colonel?”

“Are the tank recovery team well practised Major? They seem to be taking their time down there,” swiftly changing the subject to mask his strange feeling of hurt for the British Officer and indicating a field of bogged-down armour and half-tracks with a gesture of his left arm.

“No sir. We sprung this on them as a surprise exercise. Part of the plan. It will take them a’whiles to get the vehicles back online.”

Yarishlov could not suppress the amusing thought about who had been practicing lying the most, for the American was being outrageous.

“Not same Sherman tanks to the one’s I had used Major.”

“Indeed sir? We sent you a few I believe and I’m sure they made all the difference. The Sherman is a good horse with plenty of firepower. Equal of the panzer in my view Colonel.”

Which it certainly was not but Yarishlov wasn’t going to argue with the man’s obvious lack of hard-won expertise on enemy armour, no matter how outrageous he was being. His view of Americans was nose-diving by the second.

“Still y’all had a good day. Makes nonsense of all the talk doesn’t it?”

“What talk might that be Major?” the annoyed Russian already preparing a similar response to the one Ramsey had received earlier.

“I mean all this nonsense about you maybe planning an attack on us Colonel. Spent a whole week in some French castle with some ex-kraut officers. Learning about your tactics just in case. Their top dog was ex-SS too”. The Major deliberately hawked and spat, solely to impress Yarishlov.

“Bastards got me transferred from my unit because they couldn’t deal with the fact that I was better than them.” The bitterness in his voice was extreme. “Cost me my bird for some time to come” Yarishlov evidently did not understand. “My bird,” tapping his collar, “Lieutenant Colonel’s rank. Won’t get that because of the attitude problem they reported I have.”

Yarishlov had a look on his face that Parker interpreted as support but that was actually something entirely different.

“Anyway, whole thing doesn’t scour at all. Waste of time. We all kicked the krauts out so why would we start on each other? Reckon it’s the goddamn Nazis agitating myself. Goddamned symposium nonsense. Hell, we’ve even got one of our own too!”

Parker let out a huge sigh.

“It’s enough to try the patience of a saint Colonel.”

Parker extracted his lucky strikes and proffered the pack to Yarishlov, who declined.

Parker lit up.

“Still I’m having a week’s furlough in the south of France soon as I can. Colonel, Biarritz, you should go there some time sir. Hell of a place for a man to relax.”

The Major just let it all come tumbling out without a care in the world. Had he looked more closely he would have realised that a Russian Lieutenant Colonel just had his antenna twitch. But he didn’t, so he had no idea that the Russian was making a mental note that this ‘symposium” was something he had to write up in his report on return. He also missed the look on the face of a Black Watch Major returning from his unnecessary call of nature, wondering incredulously whether he had just heard what he thought he had heard.

“I may well do Major,” was about all Yarishlov could say as he processed the look on the approaching Ramsey’s face.

Something was wrong, but what was it?

“Did you see much action Colonel?” was about the most stupid question the fool could have asked but it didn’t stop him from asking it.

“I saw a few battles Major, enough to satisfy my childhood desiring for such things.”

“We saw quite a bit ourselves of course,” which both Russian and Englishman knew was a crass lie, for both had discovered that the soldiers present had only been in Europe since early March, and at a time when the German was surrendering to anything that came from the west. It was different for the Russians of course. Their final days of combat had seen the bloody Armageddon of Berlin that had cost so many lives.

However, both men’s thoughts were still in turmoil. Ramsey working out what had been said; did he really hear the words “Biarritz” and ‘symposium”? Yarishlov replaying the event and trying to decide what exactly had happened.