Major Prasad's bath

THE MILITARY PHILOSOPHERS - 2

ANTHONY POWELL

Anthony Powell's 'The Military Philosophers,' the ninth novel in his sequence, 'A Dance to the Music of Time,' is 10 be published by Heinemann on Monday. In this second pre- publication extract, Nicholas Jenkins accom- panies a party of Allied military attaches on a visit to Normandy in November 1944.

It was late that night when, after inspecting a mass of things, we reached billets. A clock struck twelve as the cars entered the seaside town where these had been arranged. By the time we arrived I had forgotten the name of the place, evidently a resort in peacetime, be- cause we drew up before the doors of a largish hotel. It was moonlight. We got out. Finn con- ferred with the Conducting Officer from Army Group, who was still with us. Then he turned to me.

'They can't get us all into the Grand.'

`No room at the inn, sir?'

'Not enough mattresses or something, though it looks big enough. So, Nicholas, you'll attend General Asbjornsen, General Bobrowski, General Philidor and Major Prasad to La Petite Auberge. Everything's been laid on there for the five of you.'

I never knew, then or later, why that particu- lar quartet was chosen to represent the over- flow from the Grand. One would have expected four generals--Lebedev, for example, or Cobb, recently promoted brigadier-general—alterna- tively, four more junior in rank, Gauthier de Graef, Al Sharqui, a couple of lieutenant- colonels. However, that was how it was. One of the cars took the five of us to La Petite Auberge, which turned out to be a little black-and-white half-timbered building, hotel or pension, in Tudor, or, I suppose, Francois Premier or Henri Quatre style. Only one of the rooms had a bathroom attached, which was captured by General Asbjornsen, possibly by being the most senior in rank, more probably because he climbed the stairs first. Obviously I was not in competition for the bath myself, so I did not greatly care who took it, nor by what methods. Prasad, like Asbjornsen, went straight up to his room, but the other two generals and I had a drink in the bar, pre- sided over by the patronize, who seemed pre-

pared to serve Allies all night. Bobrowski and Philidor were talking about shooting wild duck. Then Asbjornsen came down and had a drink too. He started an argument with Bobrowski about the best sort of skiing boots. Philidor and I left them to it. I had already begun to undress, when there was a knock on the door. It was Prasad.

`Major- Jenkins . .

'Major Prasad?'

He seenied a little embarrassed about some- thing. I hoped it was nothing like damp sheets, a problem that might spread to the rest of us. Prasad was still wearing breeches and boots and his Sam Browne.

'There's a room with a bath,' he said.

`Yes--General Asbjornsen's.'

Prasad seemed unhappy. There was a long pause.

'I want it,' he said at last.

That. blunt statement surprised me.

'I'm afraid General Asbjornsen got there first.'

I thought it unnecessary to add that baths were not for mere majors like.ourselves, especi- ally when there was only one. Majors were lucky enough to be allowed a basin. I saw how easy it might become to describe the hardness of conditions when one had first joined the army. The declaration was also quite unlike Prasad's apparent appreciation of such things.

'But I need it.'

'I agree it would be nice to have one, but he is a general- a lieutenant-general. a'. that.'

Prasad was again silent for a few seconds. He was certainly embarrassed, though by no means prepared to give up the struggle.

'Can you ask General Asbjornsen to let me have it, Major Jenkins?'

He spoke rather firmly. This was totally un- like Prasad, so quiet, easy going. outwardly impregnated with British Army 'good form.' was staggered. Apart from anything else, the request was not a reasonable one. For a major to eject a general from his room in the small hours of the morning was a grotesque concep- tion. It looked as if it might be necessary to embark on an a priori disquisition regarding the Rules and Disciplines of War, which cer- tainly laid down that generals had first option where baths were concerned. It was probably. Rule One. I indicated that a major—even a military attaché, in a sense representing his own country—could not have a bathroom to him- self, if three generals, themselves equally repre- sentative, were all of them, at least theoretically, in the running. I now saw how lucky I was that neither Bobrowski nor Philidor had shown any sign of considering himself slighted by being allotted a bathless room. In fact Prasad's claim did not merit serious discussion. I tried to .put that as tactfully as possible. Prasad listened respectfully. He was not satisfied. I could not understand . what had come over him. I changed the ground of argument, aban doning seniority of rank as a reason. pointing out that General Asbjornsen had won the bath by right of conquest. He had led the way up the stairs, the first man—indeed, the first general—to capture the position. Prasad would not be convinced. There was another long pause. 1. wondered whether we should stay Up all night. Prasad gave the impression of having a secret weapon, a battery he preferred not to unmask unless absolutely necessary. However, it had to come into action at last.

'It's my religion,' he said.

He spoke now apologetically. This was an entirely unexpected aspect.

'Oh, I see.'

I tried to play for time, while I thought up some answer.

`So I must have it,' Prasad said.

He spoke with absolute finality.

'Of course. I appreciate, Major Prasad, that' what you have said makes a difference.'

He did not reply. He saw his projectile had landed clean on the target. I was defeated. The case was unanswerable, especially in the light of my instructions. Prasad looked sorry at having been forced to bring matters to this point. He looked more than sorry; terribly upset.

'So can I have the bathroom?'

I buttoned up my battledress blouse again. -'I'll make certain enquiries.'

'I'm sorry to be so much trouble.'

'Wait a moment, Major Prasad.'

By a great piece of good fortune. General Asbjornsen was still in the bar. He and Bobrowski had not stopped arguing. though the subject had shifted from skiing boots to tactics. Asbjornsen was perhaps getting the worst of it. because his expression recalled more than ever the craggy features of Mon- sieur Orn. the Norwegian at La Grenadiere, who had such a row with Monsieur Lundquist, the Swede. for sending 'sneaks' over the net at tennis. I hoped no similar display of short temper was in the offing.

'Sir?'

General Asbjornsen gave his attention.

'Major Prasad has asked me if you would. possibly consider surrendering to him the room with the bath?'

General Asbjornsen looked absolutely dumb- founded. He did not show the smallest degree of annoyance, merely stark disbelief that he had rightly grasped the meaning of the question.

'But-- I have the bath.'

`I know, sir. That was why I was asking.' 'I am there.'

`That's just it. sir. Major Prasad wants it,' `He wants it?'

'Yes. sir.'

'The bathroom?'

'Yes, sir.' 'But—the bathroom—it is for me.'

'It's a very special request, sir.'

General Asbjornsen's face by now showed at least that he accepted the request as a special one. It was only too easy to understand his surprise, the fact that the idea took some time to penetrate. This was not at all on account of any language difficulty. General Asbjornsen spoke English with the greatest fluency. As the conception began to shape in his mind that Prasad's designs on the bath were perfectly serious, the earlier look of wonder had changed to one of displeasure. His face hardened. Bobrowski, who loved action, especi- ally if it offered conflict, grasping that a superbly comic tussle was promised, now joined in.

`You are trying to take General Asbjorn- sen's bath away from him, Major Jenkins?'

'It's for Major Prasad, sir, he—' 'I don't believe it, Major Jenkins, I believe you want it for yourself.'

Bobrowski had begun to laugh a lot.

'It is the particular wish of Major Prasad, sir—'

`Look here,' said Asbjornsen, 'I have the bath. I keep it.'

That was the crux of the matter. There was no arguing. I had hoped, without much con- viction, to achieve General Asbjornsen's dis- lodgment without playing Prasad's trump card. Now this would have to be thrown on the table. It had become clear that much more discussion of this sort, to the accompaniment of Bobrowski's determination to treat the matter as a huge joke, would make Asbjornsen more intractable than ever.

'It's a question of religion, sir.' 'What?'

`Major Prasad requires the room for re- ligious reasons.'

That silenced them both. The statement, at least for the moment, made even more im- pression than I had hoped.

`Religion?' repeated Bobrowski.

1 wished he would keep out of it. The bath- room was no business of his. By now I was entirely on Prasad's side, dedicated to obtain- ing the bathroom for whatever purpose he needed it.

`But this is a new idea,' said Bobrowski. 'I had not thought that was how baths are allotted on this tour. I am Catholic, what chance have I?'

`Sir—' `Now I see why General Philidor went off to bed without even asking for the bathroom. Like many Frenchmen, he is perhaps a free- thinker. He would have no chance for the bath. You would not let him, Major Jenkins. No religion—no bath. That is what you say. It is not fair.'

Bobrowski thought it all the funniest thing he had ever heard in his life. He laughed and laughed. Perhaps, in the long run, the con- clusion of the matter owed something to this laughter of Bobrowski's, because General Asbjornsen may have suspected that, if much more argument were carried on in this frivolous atmosphere, there was danger of his being made to look silly himself. Grasp of that fact after so comparatively short an interlude of Bobrowski's intervention did Asbjornsen credit.

`You can really assure me then, Major Jen- kins, that this is, as you have reported, a question of religion.'

'I can assure you of that, sir.'

'You are in no doubt?'

'Absolutely none, sir.'

'In that case, I agree to the proposal.'

General Asbjornsen almost came to atten- tion.

'Thank you, sir. Thank you very much indeed. Major Prasad will be most grateful. I will inform Colonel Finn when I see him.'

`Come upstairs and help me with my valise.'

The gruffness of General Asbjornsen's tone was fully justified. I followed him to the dis- puted room, and was relieved to find the valise on the floor still unpacked. The bathroom door was open. It seemed an apartment designed for the ablutions of a very thin dwarf, one of Mime's kind. However, spatial content was neither here nor there. The point was, .Prasad must have it. I took one end of the valise, Asbjornsen the other. Prasad was peeping through the crack of his door. When informed of the way the battle had gone, he came out into the passage. Asbjornsen was not un- gracious about his renunciation. Prasad ex- pressed a lot of thanks, but was unaware, I think, that the victory, like Waterloo, had been 'a damned close run thing.' General Asbjornsen and I carried his valise into Prasad's former room. I helped Prasad with his valise too, on his taking over of the bath- room. As soon as Prasad and I were out in the passage, General Asbjornsen shut his bedroom door rather loudly. He could not be blamed. My own relations with him, even when we returned to England, never fully recovered from that night. For the rest of the tour I speculated on what arcane rites Prasad con- ducted in that minute bathroom.