A farewell to arms
The wind was full in it and I felt the boat suck forward while I held as
hard as I could to the two edges. It pulled hard. The boat was moving
fast.
“We’re going beautifully,” Catherine said. All I could see was umbrella
ribs. The umbrella strained and pulled and I felt us driving along with
it. I braced my feet and held back on it, then suddenly, it buckled; I
felt a rib snap on my forehead, I tried to grab the top that was bending
with the wind and the whole thing buckled and went inside-out and I was
astride the handle of an inside-out, ripped umbrella, where I had been
holding a wind-filled pulling sail. I unhooked the handle from the seat,
laid the umbrella in the bow and went back to Catherine for the oar. She
was laughing. She took my hand and kept on laughing.
“What’s the matter?” I took the oar.
“You looked so funny holding that thing.”
“I suppose so.”
“Don’t be cross, darling. It was awfully funny. You looked about twenty
feet broad and very affectionate holding the umbrella by the edges—”
she choked.
“I’ll row.”
“Take a rest and a drink. It’s a grand night and we’ve come a long way.”
“I have to keep the boat out of the trough of the waves.”
“I’ll get you a drink. Then rest a little while, darling.”
I held the oars up and we sailed with them. Catherine was opening the
bag. She handed me the brandy bottle. I pulled the cork with my
pocket-knife and took a long drink. It was smooth and hot and the heat
went all through me and I felt warmed and cheerful. “It’s lovely
brandy,” I said. The moon was under again but I could see the shore.
There seemed to be another point going out a long way ahead into the
lake.
“Are you warm enough, Cat?”
“I’m splendid. I’m a little stiff.”
“Bail out that water and you can put your feet down.”
Then I rowed and listened to the oarlocks and the dip and scrape of the
bailing tin under the stern seat.
“Would you give me the bailer?” I said. “I want a drink.”
“It’s awfully dirty.”
“That’s all right. I’ll rinse it.”
I heard Catherine rinsing it over the side. Then she handed it to me
dipped full of water. I was thirsty after the brandy and the water was
icy cold, so cold it made my teeth ache. I looked toward the shore. We
were closer to the long point. There were lights in the bay ahead.
“Thanks,” I said and handed back the tin pail.
“You’re ever so welcome,” Catherine said. “There’s much more if you want
it.”
“Don’t you want to eat something?”
“No. I’ll be hungry in a little while. We’ll save it till then.”
“All right.”
What looked like a point ahead was a long high headland. I went further
out in the lake to pass it. The lake was much narrower now. The moon was
out again and the _guardia di Finanza_ could have seen our boat black on
the water if they had been watching.
“How are you, Cat?” I asked.
“I’m all right. Where are we?”
“I don’t think we have more than about eight miles more.”
“That’s a long way to row, you poor sweet. Aren’t you dead?”
“No. I’m all right. My hands are sore is all.”
We went on up the lake. There was a break in the mountains on the right
bank, a flattening-out with a low shore-line that I thought must be
Cannobio. I stayed a long way out because it was from now on that we ran
the most danger of meeting _guardia_. There was a high dome-capped
mountain on the other shore a way ahead. I was tired. It was no great
distance to row but when you were out of condition it had been a long
way. I knew I had to pass that mountain and go up the lake at least five
miles further before we would be in Swiss water. The moon was almost
down now but before it went down the sky clouded over again and it was
very dark. I stayed well out in the lake, rowing awhile, then resting
and holding the oars so that the wind struck the blades.
“Let me row awhile,” Catherine said.
“I don’t think you ought to.”
“Nonsense. It would be good for me. It would keep me from being too
stiff.”
“I don’t think you should, Cat.”
“Nonsense. Rowing in moderation is very good for the pregnant lady.”
“All right, you row a little moderately. I’ll go back, then you come up.
Hold on to both gunwales when you come up.”
I sat in the stern with my coat on and the collar turned up and watched
Catherine row. She rowed very well but the oars were too long and
bothered her. I opened the bag and ate a couple of sandwiches and took a
drink of the brandy. It made everything much better and I took another
drink.
“Tell me when you’re tired,” I said. Then a little later, “watch out the
oar doesn’t pop you in the tummy.”
“If it did”—Catherine said between strokes—“life might be much
simpler.”
I took another drink of the brandy.
“How are you going?”
“All right.”
“Tell me when you want to stop.”
“All right.”
I took another drink of the brandy, then took hold of the two gunwales
of the boat and moved forward.
“No. I’m going beautifully.”
“Go on back to the stern. I’ve had a grand rest.”
For a while, with the brandy, I rowed easily and steadily. Then I began
to catch crabs and soon I was just chopping along again with a thin
brown taste of bile from having rowed too hard after the brandy.
“Give me a drink of water, will you?” I said.
“That’s easy,” Catherine said.
Before daylight it started to drizzle. The wind was down or we were
protected by mountains that bounded the curve the lake had made. When I
knew daylight was coming I settled down and rowed hard. I did not know
where we were and I wanted to get into the Swiss part of the lake. When
it was beginning to be daylight we were quite close to the shore. I
could see the rocky shore and the trees.
“What’s that?” Catherine said. I rested on the oars and listened. It was
a motor boat chugging out on the lake. I pulled close up to the shore
and lay quiet. The chugging came closer; then we saw the motor boat in
the rain a little astern of us. There were four _guardia_ _di finanza_
in the stern, their _alpini_ hats pulled down, their cape collars turned
up and their carbines slung across their backs. They all looked sleepy
so early in the morning. I could see the yellow on their hats and the
yellow marks on their cape collars. The motor boat chugged on and out of
sight in the rain.
I pulled out into the lake. If we were that close to the border I did
not want to be hailed by a sentry along the road. I stayed out where I
could just see the shore and rowed on for three-quarters of an hour in
the rain. We heard a motor boat once more but I kept quiet until the
noise of the engine went away across the lake.
“I think we’re in Switzerland, Cat,” I said.
“Really?”
“There’s no way to know until we see Swiss troops.”
“Or the Swiss navy.”
“The Swiss navy’s no joke for us. That last motor boat we heard was
probably the Swiss navy.”
“If we’re in Switzerland let’s have a big breakfast. They have wonderful
rolls and butter and jam in Switzerland.”
It was clear daylight now and a fine rain was falling. The wind was
still blowing outside up the lake and we could see the tops of the
white-caps going away from us and up the lake. I was sure we were in
Switzerland now. There were many houses back in the trees from the shore
and up the shore a way was a village with stone houses, some villas on
the hills and a church. I had been looking at the road that skirted the
shore for guards but did not see any. The road came quite close to the
lake now and I saw a soldier coming out of a café on the road. He wore a
gray-green uniform and a helmet like the Germans. He had a
healthy-looking face and a little toothbrush mustache. He looked at us.
“Wave to him,” I said to Catherine. She waved and the soldier smiled
embarrassedly and gave a wave of his hand. I eased up rowing. We were
passing the waterfront of the village.
“We must be well inside the border,” I said.
“We want to be sure, darling. We don’t want them to turn us back at the
frontier.”
“The frontier is a long way back. I think this is the customs town. I’m
pretty sure it’s Brissago.”
“Won’t there be Italians there? There are always both sides at a customs
town.”
“Not in war-time. I don’t think they let the Italians cross the
frontier.”
It was a nice-looking little town. There were many fishing boats along
the quay and nets were spread on racks. There was a fine November rain
falling but it looked cheerful and clean even with the rain.
“Should we land then and have breakfast?”
“All right.”
I pulled hard on the left oar and came in close, then straightened out
when we were close to the quay and brought the boat alongside. I pulled
in the oars, took hold of an iron ring, stepped up on the wet stone and
was in Switzerland. I tied the boat and held my hand down to Catherine.
“Come on up, Cat. It’s a grand feeling.”
“What about the bags?”
“Leave them in the boat.”
Catherine stepped up and we were in Switzerland together.
“What a lovely country,” she said.
“Isn’t it grand?”
“Let’s go and have breakfast!”
“Isn’t it a grand country? I love the way it feels under my shoes.”
“I’m so stiff I can’t feel it very well. But it feels like a splendid
country. Darling, do you realize we’re here and out of that bloody
place?”
“I do. I really do. I’ve never realized anything before.”
“Look at the houses. Isn’t this a fine square? There’s a place we can
get breakfast.”
“Isn’t the rain fine? They never had rain like this in Italy. It’s
cheerful rain.”
“And we’re here, darling! Do you realize we’re here?”
We went inside the café and sat down at a clean wooden table. We were
cockeyed excited. A splendid clean-looking woman with an apron came and
asked us what we wanted.
“Rolls and jam and coffee,” Catherine said.
“I’m sorry, we haven’t any rolls in war-time.”
“Bread then.”
“I can make you some toast.”
“All right.”
“I want some eggs fried too.”
“How many eggs for the gentleman?”
“Three.”
“Take four, darling.”
“Four eggs.”
The woman went away. I kissed Catherine and held her hand very tight. We
looked at each other and at the café.
“Darling, darling, isn’t it lovely?”
“It’s grand,” I said.
“I don’t mind there not being rolls,” Catherine said. “I thought about
them all night. But I don’t mind it. I don’t mind it at all.”
“I suppose pretty soon they will arrest us.”
“Never mind, darling. We’ll have breakfast first. You won’t mind being
arrested after breakfast. And then there’s nothing they can do to us.
We’re British and American citizens in good standing.”
“You have a passport, haven’t you?”
“Of course. Oh let’s not talk about it. Let’s be happy.”
“I couldn’t be any happier,” I said. A fat gray cat with a tail that
lifted like a plume crossed the floor to our table and curved against my
leg to purr each time she rubbed. I reached down and stroked her.
Catherine smiled at me very happily. “Here comes the coffee,” she said.
They arrested us after breakfast. We took a little walk through the
village then went down to the quay to get our bags. A soldier was
standing guard over the boat.
“Is this your boat?”
“Yes.”
“Where do you come from?”
“Up the lake.”
“Then I have to ask you to come with me.”
“How about the bags?”
“You can carry the bags.”
I carried the bags and Catherine walked beside me and the soldier walked
along behind us to the old custom house. In the custom house a
lieutenant, very thin and military, questioned us.
“What nationality are you?”
“American and British.”
“Let me see your passports.”
I gave him mine and Catherine got hers out of her handbag.
He examined them for a long time.
“Why do you enter Switzerland this way in a boat?”
“I am a sportsman,” I said. “Rowing is my great sport. I always row when
I get a chance.”
“Why do you come here?”