With All Due Respect

Sergeant Gagliano stood between the trails of the howitzer, bellowing out the commands he was getting over the telephone headset from the executive officer.

"Shell H-E, V-T fuse thu-ree niner fo-wer!"

Number Six Man kneed the fat projectile upright and Number Five expertly screwed the variable time fuse on its nose to the setting of 394.

"Charge seven!"

Numbers Four and Three slapped seven bags of powder into the casing. Six, Five, Four and Three placed the loading tray under the gaping maw of the breech, put the shell on the tray and heaved it home with the rammer staff.

Corporal Billings swung the breech closed.

"Base deflection left two niner zee-ro!"

Number Two Man whirled his wheel and the snout of the howitzer turned gently toward the northwest where, over the lip of the rise, lay the German lines, only a thousand yards away.

"Ele-vay-shun, eight fy-ev!"

Billings spun the wheel on his side of (continued on page 70) With All Due Respect (continued from page 65) the breech and Number Four Gun rose, like an anaconda spotting its prey. Billings locked the setting, turned to face the sergeant and picked up the firing pin lanyard.

"Fire!"

And Number Four Gun thundered and recoiled with the grace of a great snake, and the earth shivered under Gagliano's feet. He breathed deeply, his nostrils stung by the sweet, biting smoke.

The earth quivered again under him but much more gently, as Charlie Battery's shells went to earth in the German lines.

"That did it, men, that did it," came the executive officer's voice in his ear and those of the other three gun sergeants. "Infantry says it turned them back, what was left of them. Sixteen goddam Tiger Tanks, men. The colonel sends you his compliments. Mission accomplished."

Gagliano took off the headset and dropped it at his feet. The crew, all still in position for another round, was looking at him expectantly.

"The colonel says you couldn't hit an old lady crossing the street, men," Gagliano said. "He's coming down here and show you eight-balls how to handle a gun."

"What was it, anyway?" Corporal Billings said.

"Tiger Tanks again," Gagliano said. "Over across from Loiano. They were trying to bust up the 36th's heavy weapons. We stopped them. Relax, men. Rest. Smoke, if you like."

It was such a tired old joke, but they loved him and they laughed anyway. All but Billings set to work, opening the breech of their gigantic child and swabbing out its hot throat with the solvent liquid. The phone jangled. Billings picked up the headset.

"Number Four," Billings said. "Hi, Ray. Oh. OK. He'll be right down." He dropped the headset and stepped close to Gagliano.

"Burk said the captain wants you and the other section chiefs down the orderly room tent right away," he said. "I guess you know why."

Gagliano shrugged hopelessly. "Yeah, I know why," he said. "Nobody on the crew knows about it, do they? You didn't tell none of the men?"

"Oh, hell, no," Billings said. "I figured you'd tell them yourself if you wanted them to know."

"Yeah," Gagliano said. "Well, I guess it had to happen some time. Listen – make sure that breech is clean, will you?

I don't want no more hangfires this week."

As he trudged away, he smiled at himself, reminding Billings about cleaning the gun when that wouldn't be his responsibility any longer.

The other section chiefs were already there. They were all big men, as Gagliano was. At his desk sat Ray Burk, the tough little lantern-jawed man who was their first sergeant.

"Hi, Gag," Burk said, toying with a pencil. "All right. You men form a line in front of me here. Dress on the right."

"What is this? Are we gonna pass in review or something?" Gagliano said.

Burk sighed. "You been in the Army long enough to know what this is," he said. "You know how he is. He wants it real red-hot, like the Fourth of July or – ten-Shut!"

And the captain stumped in, his head passing under the section chiefs' chests, his crisply pressed ODs ballooning about his thin little legs, his mousy face hidden under the burnished, battered steel helmet. He put the helmet on the desk and faced them.

"I think all you men know what's gonna happen here," he said. He nodded at Gagliano. "All right, you. One step fo-wahd – Harch."

The giant clopped one step out of the line and snapped his heels together.

The captain folded his arms and looked at each one of them, savoring every second of the moment.

Then he pointed at Gagliano.

"Gagliano," he announced in his high, squeaky voice, "as far as I'm concerned, your appointment as a sergeant has terminated."

You motherless little crud, Gagliano thought, you haven't called me sergeant since we got you and you wouldn't do it even when you're busting me. You must have sat up all night thinking just how to say it. Well, I never called you sir, either. Just captain.

"I hope the rest of you men realize what this means," the captain said. For effect, he put his hands behind him and strutted solemnly to the tent door and gazed out at the titanic upward sweep of Montecatini Alto and its neighboring peaks, which looked like an angry stone ocean when you were on top of one.

The captain whirled around.

"Now if there's a man here that don't like it let him tell me so right to my face."

They only returned his stare, each one expressionless, soldierly.

"This damn man here has been a bone of contention in my craw since I took over this outfit," the captain said. "He don't want to toe the mark. He don't think I know how to handle soldiers. He wants to wipe their noses for them. He don't deserve to wear a gun sergeant's stripes. Sergeant Burk! I want you to read off the charges against this man here."

Burk cleared his throat. "Captain, sir," he said, "with all due respect, sir, I just posted all them charges on the bulletin board and I don't see —"

"I don't see, Sergeant Burk, where the first sergeant gets off putting no interpretations on my orders," the captain said.

"It's not that, sir," Burk said.

"Then what is it? Maybe you don't think I should bust a man if I think he should be busted. Maybe you think I ought to ask you first. Is that it, Sergeant?"

Burk gave in. "All right, sirÈ" he said, and took one of the quadruplicates from his to Battalion box. "Dereliction of duty; insubordination; failure to observe military courtesy; appropriation of a military vehicle for unauthorized uses; fraternization with the enemy."

"What's that?" Gagliano said. "What's that last one?"

"You will remain at attention, soldier," the captain said.

"Captain, sir," Burk said, "the ARs say a man has a right to hear all the charges against him."

The captain glared at Burk, helpless rage all over his face. He couldn't bust Burk and he knew it. They all respected Burk too much and the captain knew they did not respect him.

"All right, Sergeant," the captain said. He stepped up to Gagliano and glared up at the big face above him.

"You know damn well what I mean by fraternizing with the enemy," he said. A flush crept up Gagliano's thick neck.

"If I might have permission to speak, Captain," he said.

"I told you to remain at attention."

"If I might have permission to speak, goddam it, what the hell do you mean by the enemy?"

"I mean them dago whores we caught you with last night when you took the weapons carrier out," the captain said. "Is that so hard to understand?"

"Just because I was with some Italian girls I was fraternizing with the enemy?"

"That's right," the captain said. "I never see a dago yet I could trust and I'm sure General Truscott don't either."

"That's a lie, Captain," Gagliano said.

"Go ahead," the captain said. "Speak your piece. It'll sound good when I take this to a higher court martial."

"The Italian people been on our side a long time now, Captain," Gagliano said, "and if you call that fraternizing with the enemy, me spending a nice, (continued on page 76) With All Due Respect (continued from page 71) sociable evening with a couple of girls and their mothers, Captain – – –"

"A bunch of whores," the captain said. "What decent girl would go out with some bum soldier who just stole some government property?"

"I admit that, Captain," Gagliano said. "If you're busting me for taking the weapons carrier, I admit I took it without no authorization. But the goddam enemy is them jerries, not the Italian people."

"Captain, sir," Burk said. "A word in private, sir?" They stepped outside into the blasting Italian sunlight.

"With all due respect, Captain," Burk said, "you can't make that charge stick and it'll only look bad if you try, sir. I know the colonel won't like it."

"Sergeant Burk," the captain said, "if I didn't need you like I need my two hands here, I'd rip the stripes right off your arm. Are you gonna stand in my way here too or are you gonna help me do my job and make soldiers out of this bunch of eight-balls?"

"With all due respect, sir," Burk said, showing no reaction at all, "any punk second lieutenant could knock the props right out from under a dumbbell charge like that if he was Gagliano's counsel, sir. If I might speak right out, sir?"

"Well?"

"Thank you, sir. With all due respect, sir, I'm just trying to save you from looking like a horse's ass."

The captain looked as if Burk had slapped him.

"All right, Sergeant," he said. "Eliminate that charge against him. But I want that whole busting order typed over again, all five copies including the one on the bulletin board there. Rip it off."

"Yes, sir," said Burk, ripping it off the buckboard and crumpling it. "It's all right. Battalion don't know anything about the case yet, sir. I hope the Captain won't take nothing I say personally, sir. It's my job as the first sergeant to advise you – –"

"Don't you tell me the duties of a first sergeant!" the captain snapped. "Don't you think I know what a first sergeant's supposed to do?"

"Yes, sir," Burk said. "I know you got a tough job here. I just want to help you win the confidence and respect of the men, sirÈ You gotta remember, Captain, these men been together since this was a National Guard outfit back in '39. You don't want to create no more problems than you already got, sir. I hope the Captain understands me."

"You just understand me," the captain said. "If I have to, I'll bust every damn non-com including the mess sergeant. I'm going to make this a fighting, military outfit, Sergeant. Just remember that."

"Yes, sir," Burk said. They stepped back inside.

"Captain," said Burk, at his desk again, "will Private Gagliano stay on Number Four crew or do you want him on one of the other guns?"

The captain smiled.

"I don't want that man on the guns at all," he said. "You will assign him to the ammo detail. I see by his MOS he's a truck driver as well as a cannoneer. All right. He can drive with the ammo detail and help with the loading. He's got a good, strong back, if he ain't got a brain in his dago head."

"Will that be permanent duty or battery punishment, sir?" Burk asked.

"No, that's permanent duty," the captain said. "The ammo detail. The pin-head squad."

The phone buzzed and Burk picked it up. "Charlie Battery," he said. "Good afternoon, sir. Yes, he's here. For you, Captain."

"Captain Barker here," the captain said. "Oh, yes, Colonel. Yes, sir, everything's just fine around here, just fine. Getting along? I'm getting along just fine, sir. Of course we're ready for a new fire mission, sir. Oh. Oh, yes, sir. Yes, I've seen that on the map. No, we won't need any extra time, sir. Sixteen hundred? That'll be fine, sir. Yes, sir. Yes indeed, sir." He handed the phone back to Burk.

"There's a big fire mission starting at 16 hundred," he said. "The 36th is moving up and we're in support. The colonel said we can expect to keep each gun firing steadily until 24 hundred. You section chiefs" – he noted with satisfaction that Gagliano became unconsciously attentive – "you think you can do it?"

"We'll do it," said Sergeant Eaves, section chief of Number One Gun. "We been doing it since E1 Guettar, Captain." That went home to the captain, that mention of the North African campaign, of a time when he wasn't even in the Army.

"Well, now, I don't know," the captain said. "That's a lot of firing. I don't know if we got enough ammo."

"There's plenty of reserve ammo," Burk said. "We brought in three new loads from Bassano this morning."

"I'll make that decision, Sergeant Burk," the captain said. "And my decision is that we will go back with the trucks now, and I will go along. I want to see Gagliano in action."

"Yes, sir," Burk said. "I'll call battalion and have the runner bring the jeep back."

"No, don't bother," the captain said. "I'll ride in the trucks. In fact, I'll drive one of the trucks."

The section chiefs looked at each other.

"Captain, sir," said Sergeant Dudley, section chief of Number Two, "them prime movers are an awful handful of truck for anybody but an experienced driver. Especially out on Highway 65, sir. It's a lousy road. It's banked the wrong way on the turns. It's – –"

"Now I be damn," the captain said. "Here's a man in this battery who's a little concerned about his captain. Well, ain't that nice. Don't you think I know how to handle an artillery truck, Sergeant?"

"Yes, sir," said Dudley.

"Then keep your goddam mouth shut," the captain said. "Before we get started, there's a little ceremony I been saving up for this moment."

He stepped up to Gagliano and ripped the sergeant's stripes off the giant's arms.

The captain peered at the dark patch on the faded left sleeve, where the stripes had been.

"My, my," he said. "They been there a long time."

"Yes, they have, Captain," Gagliano said. "Since '39."

"Well, you'll never wear them again as long as I'm around," the captain said. "All right. Now you sergeants go out and get your cannoneers ready for the ammo detail."

"Cannoneers?" Burk said. "Captain, them cannoneers done three fire missions already today and they're gonna be firing all night, too. They gonna need their strength, Captain."

"Are they men or little boys who gotta have their bottle, Sergeant?" the captain said.

"They're cannoneers, sir," Burk said. "And with all due respect, sir, them are the best damn cannoneers in the Army. But they ain't machines, sir."

"You know, Sergeant," the captain said, "this is a war we got on our hands here and sometimes we gotta expend a little extra effort. And sometimes we gotta show the men they gotta respect us."

"Yes, sir," Burk said. "But when your guns are in position you save the cannoneers for the firing and you use the other men for the ammo details, sir. The telephone linemen and the radio section and the machine gunners, sir. That's who you use on an ammo detail."

"What kind of fairies I got here, anyway?" the captain said. "You sergeants afraid to make your men do a little work?"

Burk sighed. "All right, sir," he said. "We'll use the cannoneers."

"You're damn right we'll use the cannoneers," the captain said. "I'll be down the motor pool waiting for you.

He left the tent and they watched him until he was out of sight, beyond the ruin of the old German antiaircraft position.

"I'm sorry, Gag," Burk said. The giant shrugged.

"It's all right," he said. "I can't soldier under a man like that anyway."

"No, I mean that stuff he was saying about Italians," Burk said. "He shouldn't talk that way to any man."

"I'll tell you something else he shouldn't," Dudley said. "He shouldn't be in charge of no men. I wouldn't have a monkey-lover like that in charge of a latrine detail. He'd make you salute it before you buried it."

"By damn," said Sergeant Hansen, section chief of Number Three Gun, "I've seen this man's Army do some pretty damn dumb things, but when they made that red-hot a captain they started from the beginning again. What's the matter with the colonel, anyway, giving us a dope like that?"

"Don't blame the colonel," Burk said. "He couldn't help himself. You remember how it was when Captain Garver got it, them 24-hour fire missions, with jerry busting out all over the 36th's lines like an old pair of pants splitting. Hell, the colonel couldn't shift none of his officers around. He did all he could do, he asked Naples for a replacement."

"So we get a rear echelon commando from the Repple Depple," Eaves said, and spat on the floor.

"I never forget that first day," Burk said. "He says to me in that squeaky little voice of his, 'Sargint, I want you to get me the beat-upset old steel helmet you can find around here.' So I got it for him, and you know what he done? He sat up in his tent, half the night, hitting that helmet with a hammer. It wasn't beat up enough for him. And then he polishes it! Boy, what a redhot."

"Where was he before he come to us, Ray?" Hansen asked.

"Just in the officer's pool at the Repple Depple," Burk said. "He was there six months and before that he was cadre at Fort Bragg. That's why he's such a red-hot, I guess. Back in the States all he had to do was push dumb re-cruits around and they put him in an outfit like this, with real soldiers, he don't know how to handle them. He don't understand why we ain't out policing up the area every morning. He misses the bugles."

"Here's his bugle, right here," Gagliano said. "Listen, Ray, who are you going to make?"

"For your section? Billings," Burk said.

"Good," Gagliano said. "He'll be a good sergeant. They're used to listening to him. I was afraid the captain'd try to put somebody on who wasn't in the crew."

"Not while I'm the first sergeant," Burk said. "I know what he's up to."

"Just what the hell is that crazy man up to?" Gagliano said.

"You got to be a first sergeant to spot it early," Burk said. "He figures that the way the battery is now, it's a bunch of little cliquesÈ all working against him. What he wants to do is go right down the line, busting the non-coms and splitting up all the crews and mixing them different, so they aren't with guys they been with for years. He figures that'll make it easier for him."

"He wants them stripes of yours awful bad, Ray," said Hansen. "I seen him looking at that first sergeant's diamond on your arm like it was a bare-ass woman."

"I know it," Burk said. "I know it better than any of you guys. I seen it that first day when he busted Johnson right in front of all the men and ripped the stripes off his arm."

"He'll never do that again," said Gagliano.

"He done it to you, didn't he?" Dudley said. "He done it right here, five minutes ago."

"Well, that was just among us sergeants," Gagliano said. "He would of done it in front of a formation if Johnson hadn't jumped him, that time. And me, big stupid me, I had to be Joe Noble and pull old Red off of him."

"And what if you let him kill the captain?" Burk said. "You would of been in command of a firing squad, the next morning. No, you done the right thing."

"Where's old Red now, Ray?" Eaves said.

"The last I heard he was in that Discipline Battalion near Naples," Burk said.

"I heard about that place," Eaves said.

"They sleep in shelter halves with one blanket, all year," Burk said. "They get one pair of fatigues and one razor blade and they gotta use that razor blade for a month and they got to shave twice a day."

"A guy in the 36th told me about it," Eaves said. "When he got out of there, he was glad to go back in the line. He said three guys died there last winter."

"Yeah," Burk said. "Well, let's get this over with. Go on, get the poor, motherless cannoneers."

At the motor pool they found the captain looking at his watch.

"Sergeant Burk, you know how long I been waiting here?" he bellowed.

"Sorry, sir," Burk said. "Some of the cannoneers was asleep."

"You just by damn better be sorry!" the captain said. The 40 men from the gun crews stood silent, watching Burk take it. The captain turned to them.

"Your sergeants, who been wiping your little noses all these years, they don't think you ought to go on no ammo details," he said. "Well, I think different. And I'm the captain. Anybody want to dispute that? Any son of a bitch want to differ with me?"

They just stood looking at him.

"I been your commanding officer three weeks, since Captain Garver was killed," he said. "Now I don't know how he held this outfit together, because when I took command, you were a bunch of Boy Scouts. You didn't know nothing about military courtesy and you didn't have no discipline and you still don't. Oh, I know what you think of me. I ain't a National Guard, so I stink. I ain't a member of the club. Well, gentlemen, you're gonna respect me or I'll die making you do it. It's gonna be one of us, gentlemen, you or me, and by damn, it's not gonna be me! Now let's mount up on these trucks here and get some work done."

"Captain, sir?" said one of the cannoneers.

The captain peered at him. "You're Private Zakian, ain't you?"

"Yes, sir," the cannoneer said. "Captain, sir, when you said son of a bitch, who did you mean?"

The captain smiled. He had had his outburst and he felt genial now.

"I meant myself, son," he said, "because I'm one."

"That's good, Captain," said the cannoneer, "because I'm not."

The laughter rolled over him like an ocean breaker.

"Put that damn man on report for seven days extra duty!" the captain shrieked at Burk.

After some coaxing the captain agreed to let one of the regular drivers sit with him in the cab. The trucks were tall, ugly seven-tonners, like buildings with wheels on them. They had the tremendous power necessary to jockey the great eight-inch guns around, and there was a lot the drivers had to know.

At the ammunition dump the captain perched himself on the fender of his truck,Èhis shiny boots bouncing off the big, fat tire, shouting abuse at the silent, sweating cannoneers as they wrestled the shells up to the truck tailgates. An eight-inch howitzer projectile weighs 200 pounds.

It was three hours before the trucks were loaded to capacity. Burk took the captain aside.

"With all due respect, sir," he said, "I think you'd better let the driver handle the truck on the way back."

"I'll drive," the captain said.

"Captain, sir," Burk said, "you don't know what it's like pushing one of these things over the mountains with a load of H-E."

"I said I'll drive," the captain said.

"But you'll have men riding with you, sir. Suppose there's an accident, sir. With all due respect, sir, I don't think you should take the responsibility."

"Is that the way you talked to Captain Garver?" the captain said. "Did you tell him his business, too? Did he need his nose wiped like the rest of these NGs here?"

Burk felt himself breathing hard.

"Listen, Sergeant Burk," the captain said. "I'm trying to set an example to these men here. I'm gonna drive that damn truck all the way back and what's more I'm gonna do it alone!"

"You mean you don't want the driver with you?" Burk said, controlling himself with a terrible effort.

"That's right. I'm gonna be up there in that little old cab all by myself."

"All right, you crazy bastard," Burk said. "But I'll tell you one thing you're not gonna do. If you take that wheel you're gonna have that truck all to yourself. I'm not gonna let any of my men ride with you."

"Your men, Sergeant?"

"Yeah, my men!" Burk said. "Listen, you: you're never gonna run this outfit because you don't deserve to be no officer. You can go to hell and I hope you do."

"I'm gonna enjoy this," the captain said. "I been waiting for you to hang yourself. You know what you just done, don't you? You just busted yourself."

"Yeah, I know," Burk said. "And if I look at that dumb bastard face of yours another second I'm gonna bust it."

Burk stepped out into the roadway and addressed the convoy.

"All you men riding on Captain Barker's truck," he called. "You get off there and ride on the other trucks. The driver, too. Taylor, you go ride with Eaves. Captain, you want to lead the convoy?"

"Oh, no," said the captain. "Let Gagliano lead. I'll be right behind him. I want to keep my eye on that boy."

Burk waited until all the men were mounted up. Then be climbed up beside Gagliano, leaned out and waved his fist in a circle. The engines bellowed into life. Gagliano let out the clutch and led the lurching behemoths over the bumpy driveway of the ammo dump to Highway 65.

Burk sat and stared silently at the countryside going by. Gagliano sat back, relaxed, only one hand on the wheel, as if he were tooling a convertible down a parkway. His own great bulk matched the truck's perfectly.

He noticed that Burk was silent.

"What's the matter, Ray?"

"Move over," Burk said. "Make room for one more private."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I mean I couldn't take it no more," Burk said. "I mean I blew my stack at the bastard and now I'm gonna get busted."

"Now what's the sense in that?"

"Who knows what's the sense," Burk said. "The hell with it."

"He can't do that to you," Gagliano said.

"Can't he?"

They were approaching the rise of Montecatini Alto. Gagliano's great paw grabbed the gearshift almost viciously and his big left foot thundered on the steel floor of the cab as he double-clutched the truck down into a more powerful gear for the climb.

"Listen, Ray," he said, "you mean he's really gonna bust the first sergeant?"

"Yeah, he's gonna bust the first sergeant," Burk said. "Doesn't matter. I can't soldier under that guy neither."

On a curve, Gagliano looked in his side mirror and saw the captain hugging the wheel, his little head barely coming over the Èindshield.

"If he busts the first sergeant this outfit won't be worth a hill of crud any more," Gagliano said.

"I know."

"The men won't be no good."

"I know."

"You're the only guy who's holding us all together now."

"Sure."

They were near the top of the rise. Far to the west, Burk saw the British two-forty batteries firing, tiny puffs of white issuing from their mouths, and then, seconds later, in the German territory below them, the sudden bloom of the burst, the fat black smoke that seemed to sit on the earth like a tumble-weed.

Gagliano's eyes narrowed. He geared down to third, and the truck nearly crawled to a stop.

"He ain't gonna bust you, Ray."

"No, of course not," said Burk, "and there ain't going to be no all-night fire mission, and jerry ain't going to fight no more, he's gonna come in my orderly room and say Burk, I surrender, and we're all gonna go home. Sure."

The captain's horn honked irritably, right behind them.

"All right, you bitch," Gagliano said. He let out the clutch and the truck tilted its flat snout and began to descend the mountain.

"Burk," he said, "just suppose this captain had to have a replacement, who would we get?"

Burk thought a moment. "We'd get our old exec, Lieutenant Tumpane," he said. "From the colonel's staff. He's the S-3 now. Look, knock it off, will you, Gag? Bastards like this never get killed."

The truck was gathering speed, impelled by its tonnage of high explosive.

"You know," Gagliano said, "I done a lot of crazy jobs when I was a civilian. I ever tell you about that?"

"How you was a wrestler, how you was a longshoreman, how you was a lumber-jack, sure," Burk said.

"Well, back in '36 I was in the lumber camps," Gagliano said. "They give me a job driving a truck, hauling one of them big log trailers, where the logs are just held together with chains."

Burk noticed their speed but he did not mention it. He knew Gag was a hell of a driver and he trusted him.

"You think it's bad with jerry shooting at you," Gagliano said. "You should ride one of them log trucks. Man, you pucker up all over. The camp was up in the mountains and we hauled the logs down a road just like this, into town."

"Watch the speed, Gag," Burk said.

"I seen a couple of guys who got into accidents," Gagliano said. "You know what them logs did? The chains couldn't hold them. They just smashed right into the cab and squashed them guys as flat as a hamburger."

"Hey Gag, for Christ's sake take it easy," Burk said.

"One day there I told the boss my brakes was gone and you know what he said? He said fine, then you'll just get there all the faster. And he give me a 50-dollar bonus. Well, you remember what it was like in '36. You'd do a lot more than that for 50 bucks."

"Gag, goddam it! Slow down!"

In the side mirror Gagliano saw that the captain was right on his tail, but the other trucks were still far up the mountain, making a slow, cautious descent. Now their truck was lurching like a toy being flipped by a giant hand.

"You really learned to handle a truck on them mountains," Gagliano said. Burk gritted his teeth and braced his feet against the fire wall.

Ahead of them was a sharp turn at whose apex was nothing – nothing but the map of north Italy, the little farms making a crazy-quilt pattern of color.

"Now you take a turn like that down there," Gagliano said, "with a load in back of you, a good driver, he'll know just how to handle it . . ." and swiftly, he geared the hurtling monster down to more power and gunned the truck for all it was worth as they entered the turn.

The engine snarled as if it were alive and the truck yawed sickeningly but the increased speed made the tires bite surely into the pavement and a hundred yards beyond the curve Gagliano's hands and feet flew again and the truck shuddered to a stop.

He sat back and listened, a dreamy smile onÈhis face. Burk opened his eyes.

Seconds went by.

And then, far, far below them, they heard an explosion that sounded like all the guns on the front firing at once.

"Now a driver who don't know nothing," Gagliano said, "on a turn like that he loses his head and listens to his impulses, and his impulses say step on the brake, and when he does that, he just keeps going straight ahead. See?"

The other trucks pulled up behind them. The men swarmed off and ran to peer over the cliff.

"Like I said, Sergeant Burk," said Gagliano, "it really takes a hell of a driver to handle a mountain."

"Like you said, Sergeant Gagliano," Burk said. "With all due respect."