Alick Munro tells a tale of cooperation in the face of adversity. Photo: Pete / flickr CC.
Stone soup
Alick Munro tells a tale of cooperation in the face of adversity
Some of my favourite people are hysterical Jews. I suspect that Jesus Christ was one. So, here’s the story of stone soup, told to me by a hysterical Jew who is a friend of mine.
There was a war on. The invading army was beleagured and almost defeated. Their supplies had been cut off. But there was a strong point. While the invading army held out, the defending forces could not relieve the suffering and starvation in the villages.
The invading soldiers were in the woods, also starving. The villagers were cautious of using their resources until relief came.
With autumn, darkness came increasingly early. The invading platoon waited in the woods till three in the afternoon. But the hunger gnawing at their vitals was increasingly insistent.
Sergeant Grimowitz said: ‘It’s like this, lads. We can rape and pillage, or we can seek to find common cause. The latter might do better come the war trials. I’ve got a plan.’
They followed sergeant Grimowitz to the village. He had them pick up firewood as they went. In the village square he had them pile up the firewood and their cauldron on top. A work party brought water from the brook in polythene bags and they tossed it into the cauldron.
‘Find stones,’ said sergeant Grimowitz. They did so.
‘Throw them in the cauldron,’ he said; and, every few minutes, one of the soldiers did so.
The villagers flicked their curtains. ‘They’ve got food,’ they said. Michael cautiously ventured forth from his cottage to the centre of the square. He was good at languages. Sergeant Grimowitz and he looked one another in the eye.
‘You can have some,’ said sergeant Grimowitz, ‘but it needs more vegetables’. Michael went home and returned with some wizened carrots.
Cautiously, Johan appeared with some potatoes, from which he had scraped out the brown bits, then Margareta with a cut-up cabbage – and so it went on.
‘I’m afraid we don’t have salt, nor pepper,’ said sergeant Grimowitz. These were forthcoming.
Corporal Ivanowicz brought out his mouth organ.
After the soup, shared around in the soldiers’ enamel mugs, with handkerchiefs wiping the brims, the villagers and the soldiers taught each other their dances and their songs.
