Evening star., 1950-09-23
By Col. Oreste Pinto

py MI. STSSIS TIHto
Nearly every enemy agent il
Europe knew by New Year of 194
that was about to die.
In my pocket was a certificat
signed by Army medical authority
giving me less than two months II
live.
Yet in the end the man who die,
was not but a healthy. red
faced Nazi SIS. sergeant, will
euton-cropped bristly hair, ant
the wet, discontented lips of 1
Sadist.
The story began just befor'
Christmas, 1914. Since the Nor
mandy landings I had been at
tached to SHAEF and-with Brit.
ish Security-was in charge of the
safety of Allied armies then ad.
vancing into Southern Holland
across France and Belgium.
The retreating Germans left
plenty of trouble behind. We or
Security did not sleep. I lost q
pounds, developed an unceasine
soaring headache, could not eat
On December % I collapsed il
Eindhoven-and was taken to {
military hospital.
Asked About Next of Kin.
The hospitals specialist ex'
amined me for nearly two hours
then asked gravely: "Where d.
your next of kin live?" The ques
ton made my skin crawl. I toll
him. England"
1--WE must get you on a PLAN
home" he said. Highest possible
priority"
buttoned my shirt, patted m,
Walthur 80 pistol back into it
shoulder holster, Strengthened m,
Sam Browne belt. Then I fel
better.
whats wrong with me?"
asked. The specialist avoided my
eye. "Oh-I'll write you a de.
tailed letter for your doctor ir
England. he said, embarrassed
HE will be better able to tel.
you"
grasped his shoulder. MY
fingers were thin as birds claws
I turned him round to face me
Given 2 Months to Live.
"Tell me-" I said. "Whatevel
1t is, do you imagine I shal
burst into tears and weep al
over your medal ribbons?"
He swallowed, licked his lips
I'm sorry, old chap" he said
"It's an abdominal neoplasm will
secondaries in both lungs"
"Cancer?" I translated. Can
Ger of the stomach-and lungs?
He nodded. We'll get 20,
home as soon as we can" h
said. Take it steadily, and
don't worry"
Doctor" I said, 81 may be
good man or a bad man. don
know-and I don't much care. Blu
you damn well know I am not
coward. Now-how much longe
have I got to live?"
"All right" he said. I'm sorry
It's difficult for me, too, you know
I give you two months-at most.
He wrote his diagnosis care
fully, signed it and handed it t
me in a sealed envelope. "Yo
know the worst" he said. "Giv
that to your doctor in England
and-don't do anything foolish
old chap"
mot Much Time for Folly"
I stood up, shook his hanc
"There doesn't appear to be muc
time left for folly now" said a
I went.
The street that met me beyon
the hospital main gates was
working-class district of ding
windows and doorways, like un
kempt barracks. Two months q
most to live might mean tw
weeks-two hours-or in tn
street as I walked :. or the ne1
Il might die.
I did not want to die in a fol-
eign street, cold with winte
There were cabbage stalks yello
in the cutters. A torn grey cat la
under some bomb debris, its fl
in sodden spikes.
I hurried on, forgetting m
body was weakened and meage
until the pounding of blood
my head made me remember.
held the grey wall with my hand
and was grateful when a shawle
and saboted Belgian found me
taxi.
That evening I took my fir!
drink since student days. I stoo
in the officers mess in Brusse
and drank long absinthe, whi
the men I had shared a war wit
said awkwardly: well, you'll /
home for Christmas, Colonel
and others simply looked at me 6
though I were already a ghos
They took my hand in embal
rassed farewells.
Pilot Was CHEEKY.
The plane that was to take n
home rasped and thundered @
the airport tarmac. A ricket
two-seater. All other planes ha
been booked weeks ago. TT
young pilot, his face oil-smeare,
grinned cocksurely from beneat
his goggles. THE old whee
barrow's coughing badly" h
said. But We'll probably jul
manage to stagger across tt
Channel, sir"
could not answer his smile.
was numbly Indifferent whethe
we few the Channel or browne
in it. The sea, that had guarde
Britain in those strange year
lay grey below us. Raindror
dithered and rippled on the fuse