After 30 minutes' struggle, the boys could close their eyes, remove the magazine, load the shell, and then reinsert the magazine into the rifles. They had even learned not to drop the shells, rattle the magazines, or crack gun barrels together.530Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBQ9VPU4Hgf
"Slow," grunted Oluja. "Slow. You must learn to move faster. In a battle...." Suddenly he halted. In the dim light from the lanterns they saw that his attention had suddenly gone away from them. His hand raised for silence. Looking at him, Aloj thought his face must look something like that of a wolf who senses the approach of danger.
Then, in the pause, Aloj heard something also---the faintest faraway rumble of some kind of motor.
In the time it took Aloj to identify the sound as something other than the wind, or approaching trucks. Sergeant Oluja had snuffed out both lanterns. And suddenly the silence of the night was ripped open by the pulsating roar of the big motors close overhead.
"To the trees! To the trees!" Raid! Raid!" shouted Oluja. "Run, you bastards! Head for the trees! Take cover!"
In the darkness Aloj leaped to his feet. Momentarily blinded, he could see nothing but then felt Tokar grab his arm.
"Over here---run!"
"Where?" cried Aloj.
"Rocks---trees---run---" Tokar's voice was leading. Without thinking Aloj plunged after him.
"Saw---good place---to hide---" panted Tokar as they raced across the uneven ground. "Kszar…..?"
"Here---here..."
Then Aloj felt the ground beneath his feet change; he cracked his shins on stone, found himself on the ground, crouched in the lee of a pile of rocks. Crooked trees sprouting through the boulders sheltered them somewhat from the sky. Near him he sensed other men, heard voices, felt legs, arms, feet around him like tangled snakes.
He had just opened his mouth to ask what they were running from when he realized that it was a sky full of helicopters. Even village boys knew the difference in sound between helicopters and planes. The copters---he could not tell how many---seemed so close overhead that he thought they must crash into the mountainside.
Then he heard another sound---a steady flat chatter that seemed timed to slashes of light against the black sky. Guns! They were being shot at...
Explosions of white fire lit up the scene and dust swirled up. Aloj heard muffled sounds like ptch! ptch! and he thought this must be bigger shells striking the bare earth. Other sounds were sharp, splintering, and then a whining afterecho---shells striking stone or metal---the trucks?
What he did not hear was the sound of men crying out---men screaming----!
In the space of a heartbeat---two---three--the raid was over. The copters withdrew down the mountainside, and very soon their roar died off.
As the beat of the rotors died out, Aloj faint a faint stir in the darkness around him and then a slow gathering and shuffling. He got to his feet, although he was shaking so bad he could hardly stand. "Tokar," he whispered, "are you all right? Kszar….?"
One by one a grunt or a curse identified each of the others as still living. Aloj was surprised. He had not expected any of them would live through the rain of fire. "Who....?"
"Syldavians," said Kszar. "Who else would attack this place? God---why didn't we fight back? Doesn't this army have any gunships like that?"
From a few feet away Davor's voice said briskly, "We do. We've got several Hinds, same as those. But they're not here. We're too exposed. Too much danger of their being destroyed."
"Too much danger of helicopters being destroyed?!" bawled Aloj. "How about us getting destroyed?"
"They can get more soldiers," said Davor calmly. "We're cheap. Copters cost big money. We have to buy Hinds on the black market. General Hajekjic only uses them when he thinks it's worth the risk. Come on."
They stumbled after Davor, and Aloj sensed that other men, maybe the whole camp, was gathering for something like a roll call.
They clustered in rough groups near the HQ tent, where Captain Maric and some officers were listening to reports on the damages. From the quiet questions and answers, Aloj realized that there had been some losses, some casualties. They waited in silence, however, for the captain to speak.
"Five dead," said Captain Maric presently. His voice was level, emotionless, controlled and controlling. "Seven wounded. This was a bad hit. Those copters should have been turned back by our other units when they crossed the river. Sergeant Barinovic, take charge of the wounded men. Sergeant Oluja, take two men and make a complete survey of all damages to the trucks and other equipment. Sergeant Mradakovic, dismiss the rest and see to it that they get as much sleep as possible."
"Dis-missed!" Sergeant Mradakovic's rough voice was a door slamming between the soldiers and the captain.
Aloj watched silently as Captain Maric turned and disappeared into the HQ tent, followed by one officer who carried the propane lantern and another who picked up the table and took it inside. Then Aloj, Tokar and Kszar turned toward each other, and all three of them turned to Davor.
"What----?" Tokar began, but was interrupted by Oluja.
"Bring your rifles. I'll take you to the supply tent and you will each be given a blanket and a hammock." He started across the clearing.
They jumped to follow him.
"Where will we sleep?" asked Tokar? "In one of the tents?"
Davor snorted. "You? You'll sleep outside like the rest of us. You can string up your hammocks on trees or sleep on the ground. Only the officers sleep in tents."
"But----wolves?"
"Rain?"
"How cold does it get up here?"
Davor dismissed all their worries with a flick of his hand. "Wolves---not many up here. The Syldavians will kill you before the wolves do. Rain---sometimes. And you get used to the cold. We're Bordurians."
As Davor paused in front of a tent down the row, Aloj muttered, "How much fighting can we do if we get sick?"
"Don't worry," said Kszar quietly. "The Syldavians will take care of that too. They'll kill us before we have time to sneeze."
"Watch out, know-it-all," said Davor as he went into the tent. "You may turn out to be so smart they'll send you out on reconnaissance."
"Re--con---?" asked Aloj.
"Never mind," said Kszar. "I know what it is. It's a quick trip to the grave."530Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6Tvfr5lUPH
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Davor distributed one blanket and a rope hammock to each recruit and then led them downhill to where a patch of trees offered some thin shelter against the dew and the night wind. Aloj made a move toward the rock outcropping where they'd taken shelter during the air raid, but Davor said bluntly, "That's taken. The rocket experts are up there. They are the most valuable men, next to the officers and the copter pilots, so they sleep in the safest places. You---new, useless---will sleep here, under the trees.
The trees he led them to were barely more than big bushes, certainly not strong enough to support the rope hammocks. They would have to sleep on the ground, and the ground here sloped sharply. A person sleeping here, Aloj saw, would have to be somewhat wakeful so as to keep his head pointed uphill.
"Keep all your clothes and boots on. If there's a heavy dew get closer under the bushes..."
"Scorpions?"
"If you see a scorpion, sting him," said Davor. Then he turned on his heel and vanished into the darkness.
The 3 boys stood in a huddle. Looking around, they found that two other newcomers, Slavoljub and Zarkos, had been directed to this same spot. Aloj could vaguely see the blurry shapes of each of the others, hear their faint movements, the sound of their breathing.
"Well, then," said Kszar, "this is it. Let's try to lie close together. If it gets really cold before morning we'll take turns sleeping in the middle. That might help a little.
Slowly, fumbling in the dark, they felt for rocks and sticks (and scorpions) and gradually prepared a small clear space. One by one they unrolled their blankets and tried out various ways to wrap themselves. Since they were trying to lie close to each other for warmth, this led to cracked heads and some elbows in ribs, but at last they had squirmed into a kind of a heap in which all of them were violently uncomfortable yet equally unwilling to withdraw and be alone.
They were all tired and the younger boys, Slavoljub and Zarkos, fell asleep almost instantly.
Aloj lay looking up at the sky. "My mother always told me to say my prayers at night," he said quietly. "I wonder if she would want me to do that now."
Kszar had turned on his side so that his voice was muffled. "Of course. If you can think of anything to thank God for---go right ahead and do it. And you can ask Him to bless Sergeant Oluja---and Davor---"
"---and Whistler," said Aloj.
"Who?"
"The guy with the cleft lip. He almost killed me today." Aloj could still see those glaring yellow eyes.
"Oh, by all means. Ask God to bless Whistler. And the soldiers who kept us under guard on the way up here..."
"....and Vladisar…" said Tokar.
"Yes," said Kszar. "He led the team that captured the hill. And if we don't do better tomorrow he'll probably use us for target practice. That should make better soldiers of us."
"If that's what it takes," said Kszar from the far side of the cluster, "we should be good soldiers already. The helicopters used us for target practice already."
Aloj pushed his feet down and discovered that they had thrust out from under the blanket. He drew his legs up again. For a few minutes he lay there, letting the day run through his mind like a movie. From the moment in the village square when he realized he was in the hands of the Bordurians, through the day of traveling, eating, drilling, attacking the hill, even through the nightmare of the raid---it all flickered past him once more. He felt as if he had lived a century and traveled a million kilometers since dawn. Worst of all was the knowledge that he, that all of them, had been overpowered, captured, made to be something for someone else's reasons. Well, I may be here, he acknowledge grimly, but I'm not one of them. They can't make a true soldier out of me, even if they do give me a gun. I'll go through the drills because I have to, but I'll wait for a chance to get away. Maybe I'll get out of here. Maybe I won't. But I'll never be a soldier..530Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbydLkXdohu
One day. We have been here, he told himself,, for one day...530Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrZ9rvW4dXf
