The Cross of Iron (73 page)

‘Faber,’ Krüger murmured.

‘What’s the matter with Faber?’ Krüger did not answer. Steiner stared at his twitching face. ‘What’s the matter with Faber?’ he demanded again.

‘I think they’re coming,’ Krüger said. From the depths of the tunnel footsteps thumped over the sleepers, and a voice called: ‘Where are the wounded?’

‘Here,’ Krüger called back. ‘His eyes,’ he said to Steiner.

‘What about his eyes?’

‘Gone,’ Krüger said.

‘Gone?’

‘Both of them gone.’

Steiner let his head drop back. All he could see was the massive vault of the tunnel roof. He felt himself being lifted up and laid on a stretcher. Then Krüger’s face reappeared above him, and Steiner said: ‘Don’t bawl.’

‘I’m not bawling,’ Krüger said while the tears rushed from his eyes.

‘You’re the last NCO,’ Steiner said. ‘You mustn’t bawl.’

Krüger nodded.

‘Are you ready?’ a voice asked.

Steiner turned his head and said: ‘Shut your damned trap.’

‘You can take my tommy-gun,’ he said to Krüger. ‘I won’t need it any longer.’

Krüger nodded. The men with the stretcher started forward, and Krüger walked alongside for a few paces. ‘When you come back,’ he said, ‘you can bring me another bottle of perfume.’ In this part of the tunnel there was light enough for him to see Steiner’s face, and suddenly he stood stock still and shouted: ‘You’re bawling too.’

But Steiner no longer answered. He had turned his face to the side and was thinking: old fellow, good old fellow. With closed eyes he felt the darkness gather around him. Darkness and coolness. Suddenly he was shivering. He tried to draw his legs up closer to his body, and again felt the blood in his mouth. Damn, he thought. The blood trickled over his lips, and when he coughed a pain shot through his body that made him groan aloud. ‘We’ll be there soon,’ a voice above him said soothingly. ‘Clench your teeth.’

‘All right,’ Steiner murmured.

When he opened his eyes he saw how dark it was. Like a grave, he thought. Suddenly a terrible fear rose up in him, and he began to tremble. He had the feeling that it would always remain just as dark, as dark as it was for Faber who had lost both eyes. My God, he thought, it would be Faber, did it have to be Faber. The conception of Faber blind was so incredible that for seconds he forgot his own pain and stared, forcing his eyes as wide open as possible, at the place where the vault of the ceiling must be. The vault, and above it the blue sky. But for Faber there was no longer a sky; for Faber there were no stars and no trees, no green trees. Steiner felt a sob tugging at his throat. He opened his mouth and groaned. My God, he thought, my God. For a while he lay with closed eyes, listening to the nasty pounding in his chest and in his back. He felt the blanket under him growing wet from the blood that welled incessantly out of his torn flesh.

And it seemed to him that as the blood flowed out his body grew lighter. He felt like a feather sailing through the air towards a light. Towards alight? He opened his eyes and saw that it was getting lighter. At first there was only a grey gleam that crept across his face and slowly became transformed into a sparkling crystal that grew bigger and bigger, until at last its brightness was such that his eyes ached from looking at it. But he fixed his eyes upon it and moved his lips and whispered: ‘Anne.’ Then he saw her face distinctly, her mouth, her eyes looking at him, and he saw her smiling, and he smiled back and said: ‘I’m coming, I’m coming, Anne.’ So they carried him out of the tunnel into the light of day.