But instead of a funeral, the day began with more drilling. They were allowed a scant cup of coffee, and then Sergeant Oluja appeared and quickly divided them into groups of ten. Each group had at least one or two experienced men who were given orders by Sergeant Oluja to conduct certain exercises.448Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ06ITovIm6M
Once again Aloj, Tokar, and Kszar found themselves together with Davor and Vladisar, but Sploj and Bretak and some other new recruits were put into another group with Whistler.
Davor was in charge. He instructed them to address him as "Corporal." His first order was for them to clean their rifles. They sat on the ground near a pine tree and for nearly an hour practiced taking their rifles apart, cleaning them (after the first time this became simply fantasy), and reassembling them. The final move was to do it all with their eyes shut, which Aloj supposed was so they could handle the guns in darkness. Once more he found himself working to perfect the moves, not because he wanted to clean a rifle, but because it galled him to have other boys do it better.
During the second hour they held "war games." Davor led them to the lowest area of the fortress where the open grassland of the upper regions gave way to the rank vegetation of a deep ravine that he said was the headwaters of a stream which cut all the way to the coastline, 40 miles away. The total area of the ravine included inside the fortress was small, but the forest was so dense that it might have been many hectares.448Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLjaWshCSYB
Here Davor had them practice moving through the thick undergrowth so as to make the least noise and expose themselves to view as little as possible.
Aloj had lived near the woods all his life, and he thought he knew how to hide in it. Now he learned that he was as awkward as a truck and noisy as a herd of cows. Davor could climb trees without breaking a branch; he could cross the muddy bottom of the ravine leaving almost no trace. His rifle never slipped out of his grasp, he did not lose his direction, and he could count seconds silently and accurately. When Davor sent them on timed forays Aloj judged wrongly on both time and distance, got lost, cursed himself, the war, and Davor. Especially Davor.
Beyond the work, it was breathlessly hot in the ravine and very damp. Within a few minutes all of them were panting from exhaustion and soaked with sweat. Black flies bit them, and they had to watch constantly for wasps, bees, and wild boars---they liked muddy bottoms like this.
Aloj knew he was awkward with his gun, so he tried to excel in stealth. He slid under the spreading leaves of a low beech tree and watched his footing so he didn't stumble over the springing roots of a fir tree. In the dim light here on the forest floor there were many shadows and many shades of green. Vague brown and black shapes high in the trees were squirrels intent on feeding. Where there was open water the trees leaned out so far that even here there was a little sunlight, although they did catch glimpses of birds, cuckoos, cardinals and sparrow hawks that seemed like flashes of light. The smells of rotting vegetation were everywhere, as well as the smell of the slick black mud and even of their own sweat. Aloj thought with longing of the cool dry slopes far above them where yesterday they had "attacked" the hill. His belly was empty and he had sweated until he craved water. But still Davor drove them on.
They were threading their way through a patch of fallen branches, Tokar just ahead of Aloj, when Davor signaled Aloj to "attack" Tokar. Aloj lunged forward, hooked the barrel of his gun on a branch, and crashed on his face behind Tokar. Before he could roll over and scramble up, Tokar had whirled, dropped astride his body, and raised his rifle as if to crush Aloj's skull.
"Good," said Davor from his position a little above them. "Smash his damn head in. He'll never make a soldier---but you will!"
Slowly Tokar peeled off Aloj and they clambered to their feet. Their eyes met in a desolate glance. Aloj knew they were once again thinking the same thing: what would have happened if it had been Davor who landed on Aloj's back? Davor looked like the kind of soldier who would kill someone just for practice.
At last Davor directed them back up the ravine, out of the forest, and on across the flank of the mountain to the little ridge they had practiced on yesterday.
As they made their way up the steep trail, rifles balanced across their shoulders and faces streaming sweat, Aloj muttered, "I'd like to kill him. I'd like to kill him!"
"Davor?" Tokar darted a fast glance back to make sure they were too far from Davor to be overheard. "He's a bastard, but he'll teach us to fight."
"If he doesn't kill us first."
"Shut up!" Kszar was two places back in the line. "You got off lucky, Aloj. You didn't pay attention to what you were doing. This isn't the packing shed. This is war. You make a mistake here, they leave your body to rot. Pay attention."
"Listen to the big soldier talk," said Aloj sourly.
Kszar shrugged. "We're here. We've got no choice. We might as well try to stay alive as long as we can."
When they reached the little ridge they were given some water to drink and allowed a minute to catch their breath. Aloj stared up the slope. Yesterday he had memorized the position of every tree, every bush, every hump and hollow---even the smell and feel of the dirt. He already knew how many strides, how many lunges, it took to reach the top. He knew how the dry dirt rolled under their feet and how the crest of the hill was like an overhanging lip that seemed to push them back just as they reached it. He wondered if this lesson would go any better than the last one had.
As they squatted in the brush, staring up the slope, Aloj turned to see Kszar behind him.
"You think we'll go up a hill when some Syldavian is shooting down at us?" Aloj whispered.
Tokar looked bleakly back over his shoulder. "You bet we will!" he said. "Davor is going to be behind us---and he'll shoot us for not going up the hill."
"He would?"448Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡo7xJaGcCyC
"Of course he would."
The bushes parted and Kszar crawled toward them. "I've got it figured out," he told them as they squatted waiting for Davor's signal. "What we do is---pray hard for God to save us, and we shoot every Bordurian we can see, and we try to stay alive long enough so we"---he circled a hand to include the three of them---"can get promoted and be back there where Davor is."
Aloj wiped the sweat out of his eyes. "What if God doesn't hear us and we don't hit the loyalists? Nobody's shot even one bullet yet."
"I have," said Tokar. "I've shot my father's 17th century musket. I like it. Makes a devil of a noise and something falls over. Like a bird or a squirrel."
Aloj glared at him. "Tokar, we're talking about killing enemy soldiers, and you're talking about killing something so you can eat it. Squirrel's don't shoot back at you."
Tokar shrugged. "A gun is a gun," he muttered. "Killing is killing. And I am"---he paused, snorted a short laugh, and then went on---"I am shooting something for supper. I bet you anything they wouldn't feed us if we got in a battle and made too many mistakes."
"They wouldn't have to," grunted Kszar. "If you make too many mistakes in a battle, you'll be dead and nobody'll need to feed you."
Aloj stared up at the gravelly slope. All at once he had a terrible vision. He saw himself---and Tokar and Kszar---sprawled, dead, on some bleached-out stretch of grass, with bloated, rotting flesh being gouged away by the bloody beaks of blackbirds.448Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUWyoMJAkvB
Suddenly the signal came to attack.
Without a moment's hesitation Aloj rose to his feet, yelling like a wolf. He charged up the slope, came down on the defenders like a lightning bolt, and before they knew what had hit them, he had clubbed their rifles out of their hands and taken them prisoner. They stared at him as if he had dropped out of the sky. Behind him, Tokar, Kszar, and the rest of the team were only halfway up the slope.
In the stunned silence Davor climbed the steep rise. "Son of a bitch," he said reluctantly to the captured troops "surrendered," "you'll make a soldier yet!"
Then he signaled them back down the hill. "Return to camp," he said. "We'll eat. Then we come back here."
"I can hardly wait," whispered Aloj as he picked up his rifle and wiped the dust off the barrel. His AK-47 looked as if it had been played wiht by pigs. "I always wanted to be a soldier."
Vladisar, coming down from somewhere, pushed him forward down the slope. "You damn well better," he said. "The Syldavians have taken Znochod Province, and if they capture Zlenica, we're going to have to retake it. In two days we won't be playing games here in the fortress. We'll be shooting Syldavians. And they'll be shooting back!"448Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJrx6ugsLlz
