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Showing posts from 2013

Ernest Hemingway, a Bailey Bridge, and Sgt Warner H. Holzinger Crosses into Germany - Belgium 1944

On September 11th, 1944, Colonel Charles Trueman Buck Lanham, with a smouldering Lucky Strike permanently dangling from the left corner of his mouth, was looking through a splendid pair of captured German Zeiss field-glasses toward the river that formed the German border less than a hundred yards away.
“ Damn!”
“What's the problem, Buck?” asked Hemingway, who was playing a hand of gin rummy with Pelkey.
“ They've blown the damned the bridge. That was obviously the explosion we heard a minute ago.”
“ Who the hell are “they”, Buck?”
“ The damned SS. We heard yesterday that a few remnants of the 2nd SS Division might have been left behind to the give the regular German army a chance to get home to father.”
“ A joker don't count, Archie. What can we do, Buck?”
“ Repair the bridge, I guess.”
Lanham then spotted one of his aides and yelled.
“ Captain!”
“ Sir?”
“ Get a bunch of engineers up here, and fast.”
“ Yes sir, but they're way back...”
“ I didn't ask where they wer…

Ernest Hemingway, Archie Pelkey and James Joyce

Pelkey puts a steaming pot of real coffee, a cup and saucer, and two slices of buttered toast, onto a table at which Hemingway is sitting, reading.
" What's the book, general?"
" Well done, Archie."
" Hell, I know a book when I see a fellah reading one."
" Well, this book, Professor Pelkey, is called Ulysses, and was written by an old friend of mine called James Joyce. He's dead now."
" Is that so?"
" That is so."
" So what's it about, this book by your dead friend?"
" It's about one day in Dublin, back in 1904, a day seen from the viewpoint of several people, most notably Stephen Dedalus, Buck Mulligan, Leopald Bloom and his wife, Molly."
" Looking at the thickness of the book, general, it must have been one hell of a long day."
" Archie, just pour me a cup of coffee."
" Yes sir, general."