to know the clearance you have on the differential and the body frame?”
“I’ve got a shovel in the trunk and chains for the rear tires. Just wait till you see where we’re going after we leave Venice.”
“Do we go all the way in the Buick, sir?”
“I don’t know, we’ll see.”
“Think about your beautiful fender guards.”
“We’ll cut the fenders off like the Indians do in Oklahoma. She’s over fendered as of this time. She’s got too much of everything except the engine. And, DeNeri, this is a real engine. Three hundred fifty thoroughbreds pulling away. Think of it this way, a thoroughbred at top speed will run at thirty-seven MPH times 350 would equal twelve thousand nine hundred fifty MPH in cumulative power.”
“Ding-Dong” DeNeri said, “In all respect sir that is one fucked-up theory. I don’t care if there are seven hundred fifty thoroughbreds…it is still thirty five miles per hour!”
“Just wanted to see if you were on your toes.”
“I certainly am sir. I love to drive this beauty with the big engine on the good roads, and, I don’t want anything to happen to her.”
“Very good of you DeNeri, now I order you to just stop suffering…you act like she is a woman and you are going to bang on her.”
“Would that it was so, Colonel…and I am not suffering.”
“Good.”
DeNeri wasn’t suffering, because at that moment, he saw just beyond the line of closely bunched brown trees ahead, a sail moving along. A large red sail, racked sharply down from the peak, and it was moving slowly behind the trees while running parallel with the bank.
Why does it always gladden your heart to see a sail moving along through the country, I wondered? Why is it so emotional for me to see the great, slow pale oxen? It must be the gait as well as the look of them…the size and the color of both the sail and the oxen, displaying unseen muscle.
A large fine mule, or a string of pack mules in good condition, moves me as well. So too, a coyote or a 150 pound wolf which is gaited like no other animal. They are genetically designed by nature to survive…big, gray and certain of its ability to survive, carrying a heavy head with the deep set blue-gray-white devil eyes.
“Ever see any wolves in Montana, DeNeri.”
“No, sir, wolves were gone from Billings before my time; they poisoned them out. There are plenty of coyotes though.”
“I enjoy listening to them at night.”
“So do I, better than anything, except seeing a sail coming along in the country. Do you see a boat over there?”
“... on the Sile Canal," I told him. She’s a sailing barge going to Venice. The wind is off the mountains now, causing her to move right along. It’s liable to get very cold tonight, if this wind holds and it ought to bring in lots of ducks.”
“... Would be a sight to see, sir.”
“Yes, turn to your left here, DeNeri, and we’ll run along the canal…it’s a good road.”
“They don’t have much duck shoots where I come from, but there was plenty of it in Nebraska along the Platte River.”
“Do you want to shoot were we’re going?”
“No thank you sir. Frankly I’m not much of a shot, and because it is Sunday, I’d prefer to stay in the rack.”
“I know.” I smiled at DeNeri…”You can stay in the sack until noon.”
“I brought my repellant, I should sleep well.”
“I’m not sure you will need it.” I said. “Did you happen to bring any K-rations or ten in one? They are most likely to eat Italian food here!”
“I brought a few cans to help out, and some stuff to give away.”
“Good thinking, DeNeri.”
I turned my thoughts to the road ahead to see were the canal road joined the main highway again. There, I knew he would see it again, on a clear day, such as this one happened to be.
Across the marches, brown as those across the Mississippi, around Pilot Town in the winter, and with reeds bent by the heavy north winds, I saw the squared tower of the church of Torricelli and the high Campanile’ of Burano, beyond it. The sea was slate blue, and I could see the sails of twelve sailing barges running with the wind from Venice.
I knew I would have to wait until we crossed the Deice River above Noghera to see it perfectly, I thought. It is so strange to see how we fought back there along the canal, during that winter to defend it and we never saw it. Once I was back as far as Noghera, and it was clear and cold like today, I could see it across the water. However, I never got into it, though it is my city, because I fought for it when I was a boy, and now I am half-a-hundred years old. They know I fought for it and I am part owner, and they treat me as well.
Do you think this is why they treat me so well, I ask myself? Maybe, I thought. Maybe they treat me well because I am a Bird Colonel, maybe chicken to some on the winning side. I don’t believe it though, I hope not anyway…it isn’t France, I thought. There you fight your way into the city, which you love. Everyone was very careful about breaking anything, and then, if you have the good sense, you are careful not to go back because you will meet some military characters, who will resent your having fought your way into their lives.
Vive la France! The great Clarte’ of the French military minds. France hasn’t had a military thinker since du Picq. He too was a poor bloody Colonel, Magin; Maginot and Gamelin, pick your own poison, three schools of thought.
One, I hit them in the nose, Two, I hide behind this thing, which does not cover my left flank, Three, I hide my head in the sand like an Ostrich, confident in the greatness of France as a military power, and then I take off.
Taking off is putting it cleanly and politely. Sure, I thought, whenever you oversimplify you become unjust? Remember all the fine ones in the resistance, remember Foch…both fought and organized, and remember how fine the people were. Remember your good friends and your dead friends. Remember lots of things and your best friends again, because they were the finest people you knew. Try not to be bitter or stupid, and what does this have to do with soldiering as a trade? Cut it out I told myself, this is supposed to be a trip to have some fun.
“DeNeri, are you a happy lad?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Great, soon we will be coming to a view I want you to see. You only have to take one look at it. The entire operation will be practically painless.”
I wonder why he is riding me now, DeNeri thought. Just because he was a General once. Now, if he was worth a shit as a BG, why didn’t he hold on to the rank? DeNeri thought.
“There’s the view DeNeri,” I said. “Stop here by the side of the road and we’ll have a look.”
DeNeri got out of the car and opened the door for me as a driver is supposed to do and we walked
