"Hauptmann von Wachtstein," Peter said, "and this is Claudio Saverno, Second Officer of the Belgrano.''
"Welcome aboard the Belgrano," Saverno said in Spanish.
A third man, in mussed civilian clothing, stepped off the ladder onto the deck.
"Mi Capitan," Saverno said. "El Capitan Schirmer is on the bridge. Would you care to join him?''
"Hola, Bernardo!" Schirmer called down loudly. "Come on up!"
"Is there somewhere we can talk?" Gradny-Sawz asked.
"Claudio, may I use the mess?" Peter asked.
"Of course, Peter. I'll send the steward with coffee and whatever."
"Gracias, amigo."
Peter gestured to show the way.
"Will you follow me, please, gentlemen?"
He led them to the mess.
"I was led to believe, Herr Hauptmann," Gradny-Sawz opened the conversation, "that you have been invested with the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross. May I ask why you are not wearing it?"
"I wasn't aware this was a formal occasion."
"It is a very formal occasion, Herr Hauptmann," Oberst Gr?ner said dryly.
"And can you get into a proper uniform?" Gradny-Sawz asked.
"By proper, mein Herr, I gather you mean winter?"
"The Colonel commanding the Husares de Pueyrred?n," Colonel Gr?ner said, "was kind enough to advise me the uniform of the day for the ceremony on the dock will be the winter dress uniform."
"Jawohl, Herr Oberst."
"A squadron of the Husares, plus a military band, and a delegation of Argentine officials, military and civilian, will be on the dock," Gr?ner went on, "to accept the remains of Hauptmann Duarte from your custody. We will accompany them from the dock to the late Hauptmann Duarte's home. Here is the schedule we have been given. Do you speak Spanish?"
He handed Peter two sheets of paper stapled together.
"Jawohl, Herr Oberst," Peter repeated.
There was a vibration as the engines engaged.
"Following which," Gradny-Sawz said, "you will be taken to the Frade Guest House. Until the ceremonies are completed, you will reside there as the guest of Colonel Jorge Guillermo Frade, uncle of the late Hauptmann Frade, and former colonel commanding the Husares de Pueyrredon. I wish to speak to you about that."
"Oh?"
"It is a singular courtesy on the part of the Frade family to you. Your conduct during that period is of great importance, if you take my meaning."
In other words, I am not to get drunk and piss all over the carpet, right?
"I understand."
"Though it is his custom to have newly assigned members of the embassy staff as guests in his home, under these circumstances, Ambassador Graf von Lutzenberger will not be able to share his home with you. He has asked me to express his regret."
"That is very gracious of the Ambassador," Peter said.
"In other words, you will be at the service of the Frade family tonight and tomorrow," Oberst Gr?ner said. "We don't know what plans, if any, they have for you. But if they have made plans, and you were not available, there is a question of bad manners."
"I understand, Herr Oberst."
"And what plans have you made for the removal of the late Hauptmann Duarte's remains from this ship?" Gradny-Sawz asked.
"I believe el Capitan Schirmer will remove them from the hold with a crane and lower them onto the dock," Peter said, with a straight face.
He thought he saw a glimmer of amusement in Colonel Gr?ners eyes.
"I don't know how long it will take us to reach the dock," Gradny-Sawz said, Peter's subtle sarcasm having escaped him, "but may I suggest that you change into a proper uniform, including the Knight's Cross, Herr Hauptmann?"
The Husares de Pueyrred?n were mounted on absolutely beautiful horses and looked as if they were about to charge into Bosnia-Herzegovina and lop off rebellious heads with their sabers, or impale rebellious bodies on their lances, thus keeping peace in Emperor Franz-Josef s domain.
The Army band, not nearly so ornately uniformed as the Husares, played "Oid, mortales" ("Hear, O Mortals"the Argentinean national anthem) as the casket was lowered off the Belgrano onto a horse-drawn artillery caisson. Salutes were exchanged between German and Argentinean officers, and then the official party formed up behind the caisson.
With the drums of the band beating out the Argentinean equivalent of "slow march," the procession marched off the dock and into the streets of Buenos Aires, with the cavalry bringing up the rear. Policemen halted traffic. Pedestrians stopped and faced the street as the procession marched bysome of them respectfully removing their hats, and most of them crossing themselves.
It was a long walk to the Avenida Alvear, and it was almost brutally hot. First Secretary Gradny-Sawz, Peter noticed with some pleasure, was not only sweat-soaked, but had not managed to avoid stepping into the horse dung left by the six animals drawing the caisson.
They had some trouble passing the caisson through the gate at the Duarte mansionthe lead horse tried several times to rear. But finally the caisson was in place, and eight Husaresalmost certainly officers, Peter decided, although he could not read Argentinean insigniaunstrapped the casket, and struggling under its weight, carried it into the foyer of the mansion.
The official delegation followed. A man and a woman stood just inside the door, with a rank of servants behind them. The woman was in mourning black, broken only with a strand of very large pearls, her face concealed behind a veil.
A short fat officer who looked almost ludicrous in his Husares uniform was ahead of Peter in the line. When he reached the couple, he said, "Se?or Duarte, Se?ora de Duarte, I have the honor to present Capitan Freiherr von Wachtstein of the German Air Force, who had the sad duty of bringing Capitan Duarte from Germany."
Duarte's father shook his hand limply and said, "How do you do?"
"May I extend the condolences of the Luftwaffe and the German people on your loss?" Peter said.
"Thank you," the father said.
"My son is now home, thanks to you, Captain," the mother said. "And with the Blessed Jesus and all the angels in his heavenly home."
Peter felt like crying.
You dumb shit,he thought angrily, you left this to go fly a Storch and be a hero at Stalingrad? It wasn't even your goddamned war!
The short fat man tugged at his arm and led him away.
"I am Coronel Alejandro Sahovaler," he said. "I have the honor of commanding the Husares de Pueyrred?n."
"A sus ?rdenes, mi Coronel."
"El Coronel Jorge Guillermo Frade, uncle to the late Capitan Duarte, has arranged for you to be put up at the Frade family guest house. Unfortunately he had pressing business at his estancia, and could not be here today. Se?ora de Duarte telephoned me this morning to ask me to take you to the guest house. I was of course honored to be of service. May I do that now?''
"You're very gracious, mi Coronel," Peter said, and then spoke what came into his mind: "My luggage? It's still aboard the ship."
"It has been taken to the Avenida Libertador house," Sahovaler said. "It is no problem."
Well, in that case, I suppose that nobody closely examined my luggage and found the money.
"May I have a minute to speak with el Coronel Gr?ner, mi Coronel?"
"Of course."
Gr?ner was standing with Gradny-Sawz. Gr?ner and Sahovaler knew each other, while Gradny-Sawz had to be introduced. Peter explained that Sahovaler had offered to drive him to the guest house. The announcement visibly pleased Gradny-Sawz.