Unknown Soldiers

Chapter Sixteen

Rokka was worried.

He paced back and forth along the length of his platoon, moving from one position to the next. Actually, the platoon was no longer his, as the ensign assigned to lead the Third Platoon had just arrived from the home front that day. Nevertheless, Rokka still felt responsible, as they had a tough situation in front of them. There was a river at their backs. A new line of defense was being set up along the opposite bank, and their assignment was to hold onto the bridgehead, protecting it as long as possible so that the others would have more time to fortify their positions. The bridge over the river was on their left.

Having sunk their machine guns back in the pond, the machine-gunners were now operating as a regular infantry platoon. Only Määttä’s machine gun remained. A couple of days earlier, the platoon had received three more new recruits as replacements. Two men were transferred from the utilities staff as well, bringing the total number of new men to eight in all. In Rokka’s opinion, that meant the percentage of inexperienced men was too high. The new recruits were not particularly worse than the other men, seeing as a man gets his nature from birth and not from the army, but inexperience would make them more susceptible to panic, and that was exactly the worst thing that could happen in this situation.

Susling was lying in his foxhole, blowing the smoke from his cigarette all around him to disperse the swarming mosquitoes. Rokka walked by and said, ‘Suslin’, you remember how we use’da go swimmin’ in’na Vuoksi down in Kannas as kids?’

‘Why wouldn’t I? We ain’t never gonna see it again, Antti. Nothin’ but corpses swimmin’ there now. Rumor is water down there is runnin’ red.’

‘We’re gonna be swimmin’ ’cross this crick here pretty soon. You believe me?’

‘Mm… if anybody gits that far.’

They had received several days’ dry rations, and the new recruits wrapped up their sugar and put it in their bread bags. Rokka winked at them and said, ‘Don’t you fellas save that sugar now! It’ll git all wet and then it’ll be ruined. We’re goin’ swimmin’ soon!’

‘Don’t be stupid. We’ll hop that stream if it comes to it.’ One of the new recruits drew manfully on his cigarette, his cap tilted off to the side. The creases pressed into the cap gave a pretty good idea of its owner. The boy had an arrogant, devil-may-care machismo about him. His cap was ostensibly askew out of carelessness, but it was actually set at a carefully considered angle, deliberately selected to convey its carelessness. This new recruit was the same fellow who had turned up at the brook line asking for enemies to kill. His name was Asumaniemi. Back then Rokka had answered his question with mocking contempt, but although he had continued to address the boy in a jocular, offhand sort of way, his contempt had vanished. That very evening, when they had been fending off the counter-attack at Sarastie’s command post, the boy had taken down three of the attackers. Bare-headed, as his cap had fallen off in his excitement, the boy had risen to his knees and fired, shouting every time he hit his target, ‘Missing one, the devil said, counting up his ants!’

When the fighting was over, the others were obliged to endure rather too much carrying-on about these three fallen soldiers, but they granted Asumaniemi his right to boast, as he really had been right at home under fire. And the event was not the last of its kind. Asumaniemi became one of the sturdiest pillars of the platoon. Rokka’s voice was good-natured as he shot him a word of warning, ‘Damn it, boy! You hush up now, you hear? You’re gonna swim just like all’a rest of us. So swallow that sugar and don’t leave it to git wet!’

Ensign Jalovaara arrived from the command post.

Rokka went over to greet him, and when they met up, the Ensign said angrily, ‘What were you saying about swimming?’

‘I ordered the fellas to gulp down that sugar so it don’t git wet when we swim across’sa crick.’

‘You’ll make them all panic talking like that.’

‘Lissen here, Ensign! It’ssa enemy causes panic, it ain’t me. You can see for yourself we’re gonna end up flappin’ our way across that crick like a flock a ducks!’

‘Well, toss some corn why don’t you! What do you think is going to happen when the deputy commander’s the first one to start talking about fleeing?’ The Ensign was angry, all the more so because Rokka’s ‘lissen here, Ensign’ had offended him.

Rokka had already seen the new ensign and decided on the basis of his speech that the man did not entirely comprehend why the war was different now. Once the Finnish advance had ended, Jalovaara had been sent back to his civilian post on account of its importance, and it was only after the heavy officer losses that he had been ordered back into service. Rokka feared his blue-eyed naïveté, and found the Ensign’s speeches all the more irritating for it.

‘Lissen, that ain’t what we’re talkin’ ’bout here. We’ve learned’da take the neighbors seriously, see. They got their plans too, and we ain’t always been able to keep ’em from carryin’ ’em out, and that’s what I’m thinkin’ might happen here too. Go watch next time you hear a shot, you’ll see how the fellas start peerin’ around. That ain’t a good sign. I don’t like it when fellas start peerin’ around like that.’

‘We will retreat in an orderly manner over the bridge when we are commanded to do so. And you will carry out your mission and leave the rest for others to take care of.’ The Ensign’s tone was decisive. On receiving his summons to return to the army, he had decided to conduct himself forcefully and decisively out on the front. On the train he had re-confirmed this decision, as he took stock of his position in relation to the defeat. He still couldn’t quite bring himself to believe that the war was lost. That would have been too bitter a pill for him to swallow. But nothing was going to prevent him from fulfilling his duty. That much was clear.

This attitude infuriated Rokka, and he began to eye the Ensign with suspicion, smiling that same smile that Lammio hadn’t been able to endure without losing his temper either. It was more taunting than anything he might have said. Congenially, as if he were speaking to a child, Rokka explained, ‘Lissen. It’d be real swell if the Third Company could make it over the bridge. Seein’ as they’re already over there on’na main road. The rest of us’s gonna swim. But if you don’t quit makin’na racket, it could happen that we don’t even make it to the swimmin’ part. Neighbors’ll hear you and come rushin’ straight on over.’

‘You will obey the command just like everyone else and that is that. Now, head to the positions and keep your eyes peeled! They told me about you earlier today. In my platoon, there will be no master but discipline and the demands of the situation. Headstrong behavior is not something I am prepared to tolerate. I have no use for empty formalities, and I do not need any kowtowing, but I expect the platoon to carry out its assignments without grumbling about it.’

‘It ain’t carried out a mission yet without grumblin’. Lissen, you still got a lot’ta learn. But damn it, I ain’t gonna start goin’ in’na all a that here. You go ahead and take that bridge if you can!’ Rokka threw his hands up in anger and left. He went to the positions, sat down and started griping.

‘What the hell is it makes those officers so impossible to git on with? Just a word or two and already we’re fightin’. Koskela’s only one I never fought with. What the hell is wrong with those fellas?’

Rokka’s tone of the unjustly accused made Vanhala laugh. ‘I dunno. You ever wondered if maybe it might be somethin’ wrong with you?’

‘With me?’ Rokka was genuinely flabbergasted. ‘How in’na hell could it be sumpin’ wrong with me? I always talk straight about what needs done. And those fellas’s like they’re bent on startin’ a riot! What’d I ever say to git anybody all riled up? It’s those fellas that’s just like they was lookin’ for a fight! Here I am tryin’na do everythin’ I can to make this war go best it can do, and they start pickin’ fights with me! Like right now, all I want is for everythin’na go smooth so we can retreat right when we gotta. And he’s yellin’ at me ’bout takin’na bridge! Well goollord! How we gonna do that when’na enemy’s already over there? You’d think they wanted’da lose everythin’!’

Rokka stared angrily at the toes of his boots, then shrugged his shoulders and said, ‘Well, what the hell do those fellas matter to me now anyway? Karelia’s gone. War’s lost. There ain’t nothin’ left for me to lose. I’m just here’da make ’em pay for takin’ Kannas now. Nabbed a major day before yesterday. Served ’im right, comin’ over here with a patrol! Fellas from the First Company took the shoulder tabs. Missed a chance, Rahikainen.’

‘Oh, I’m not collectin’ those anymore. To hell with ’em. To hell with the badges, Karelia, the war – and good riddance!’

‘Shut up! The guys are puttin’ up a tough fight down in Kannas. They’ve stopped the advance,’ Sihvonen said.

‘Ain’t gonna help nothin’, you can be sure ’bout that. They’ll git through anyway, sometime or other. War’s lost. All that gaddamn work for nothin’.’

Phi phiew…

‘Bullet, boys,’ Asumaniemi said.

They all pressed lower into their foxholes. Only Rokka didn’t move. He sat right where he was and said, as if to himself, ‘There they go, flyin’ bullets. Got all the men in’na world takin’ their weapons and hot-footin’ it through the fields an’na forests. Every one of ’em shootin’ his off somewhere. Yeah, I bet there’s bullets flyin’.’

‘Git in’na pit!’ Susling said, his voice slightly worried.

‘Even a fella like Koskela,’ Rokka continued in the same tone, indifferent to Susling’s urging. ‘If anybody knew there was no point in dyin’ out here for nothin’ it was him. And then there he goes, just like he was committin’ suicide. There’s no way he was gittin’ outta there after he’d thrown that satchel charge. I think he knew it, too. Lissen, Priha, what did you say to the chaplain yesterday when he started talkin’na you?’

‘Heehee… He asked about the watch that guy from the First Company had, the guy shot by the patrol… and I said somebody without a watch prob’ly took it… This religion thing’s started gettin’ pretty weird, too. There’s men being killed all over like pigs in a slaughterhouse, but that doesn’t interest the minister much. Seems like stealin’s a sin worse than murder! Heehee. Doesn’t seem like such a big deal to me, pinching a watch off a guy like that who doesn’t know the time anymore anyway, heehee.’

‘Damn it, boy! Now you’re startin’na talk sense. How did you git to be so wise?’

‘I am an independent-minded forest fighter, not some herd animal who just repeats propaganda, heeheehee…’ Vanhala erupted into hearty laughter, then sprawled out on his back on the bottom of his hole. Rokka was about to join in as well, but just then heavy shooting started up on the left, from the direction of the main road, accompanied by a call to charge. In the same moment, the men grabbed their weapons and once more the chatter ceased, faces grew serious and, in a state of intense anxiety, they prepared to repel the attack.

Half an hour later the situation was such that a retreat over the bridge would have had to have begun immediately. The enemy wasn’t putting any pressure on them, however, and the command was slow in coming. But the Third Company, which was defending the main road, was already retreating at full steam toward the bridge, and there was no doubt that the enemy would follow close on its heels. When the Company Commander then sent word to disengage and retreat, Rokka thought it would be best to swim across the river. He said as much to Jalovaara, but the Ensign thought only of the instructions he had been given. He might also have been resistant to taking up Rokka’s suggestion because of their earlier quarrel over the issue. Not that Jalovaara would have done such a thing consciously, but he wasn’t able to separate out the various forces influencing him, so the sharpness of his refusal may well have reflected his reluctance to recognize that Rokka had been right.

So, they set off to retreat across the bridge, but were unable to make it that far. They did see the bridge, gruesome sight that it was – with wounded men from the Third Company crawling the length of it while the enemy kept them under constant fire. The new Third Company commander collapsed there as well. Then they heard the sappers scream hoarsely, ‘The bridge is gonna blow!’

The scream was like a call of distress. The sappers were obviously aware that there might be somebody out on the bridge who was still alive. But they couldn’t save him – all they could do was wait for the wounded to become the deceased. A powerful explosion shook the entire surrounding area, and bodies flew into the air amidst chunks of the bridge.

And so the Third Platoon ended up swimming after all. Wood debris and human body parts were still raining down in front of them when Rokka yelled, ‘You young fellas head out first! Määttä, take the machine gun! Rahikainen, Sihvonen and Honkajoki’ll help! Rest of us’ll hold ’em back from the bank in’na meantime.’

The men waded into the water and started floundering their way across. Only in the very center of the river did the water reach above their heads, but two bounds was enough to get across that bit.

Jalovaara, Rokka, Vanhala, Susling and Asumaniemi remained. They fired as fast as they could to keep the enemy from reaching the bank. Jalovaara ordered Asumaniemi to start swimming immediately, but the boy was too busy blowing through cartridges to listen.

‘I got him! Hey, I got him! Look! Over there, by the root of that bush…’

‘Git in’na crick! Damn it, boy, didn’t you hear me?’ Rokka yelled angrily.

Even in his panic Jalovaara remembered what Rokka had said about swimming, and said, ‘You men go! I’ll be right behind you.’

Rokka, however, never let that kind of thing influence him while he was fighting. He understood that the Ensign wanted to make up for what he’d said earlier, but he still didn’t think the suggestion made any sense, so he said, ‘You come with us, damn it. One man ain’t gonna make any difference. Here we go!’

They went. The Ensign figured he had done his duty and followed suit. Just as Susling was stepping into the water, he lurched and fell onto a rock. He said in a low, resigned voice, ‘I stay here, Antti. I stay here.’

‘What happen’na you?’

‘Go! Run! I’ll stay here. I can’t make it… Run… I’m hit. Run, you all! They’re shootin’ from the bridge!’

The bullet had come from somewhere far off, near the bridge, as their position was still protected from the land by a bluff running alongside the river. Just then a whole hail of bullets splashed into the water. They’d been noticed.

The water around Susling turned red. He tried to get up, but slipped on a rock and fell again.

He gave just one gulp of pain as Rokka swung him over his shoulder. Susling was a decent-sized man, but up onto the shoulder he went, and Rokka plunged into the current like a strapping stallion. There was no point in crouching. All that mattered was speed. Vanhala, Jalovaara and Asumaniemi tried to shoot at the enemy as they floundered across. It was no use, however, as they couldn’t even see the men shooting. When they were halfway across, Rokka bellowed, ‘Keep your head up… Keep your head up… Here we go, Suslin’!’

And so they all went. Rokka popped up to the water’s surface only once, taking a gulp of air and gasping, ‘Head up…’

The guys manning the opposite bank were also trying to send in some fire to cover the unlucky five. The worst part would be climbing up to the positions, as at that point they would be vulnerable to enemy fire coming from above as well. The high banks protected them as they swam across the river. The bullets were coming from a spot far over by the bridge, from which the river itself was actually visible.

They were already scrambling up the opposite bank. Susling hung across Rokka’s shoulders, and Rokka blew water out of his nostrils, asking, ‘You git water in your lungs? You git water in your lungs?’

‘No,’ a weak voice said from over his shoulder. They were already at the edge of the positions when a crash came from the opposite bank. The men dived headlong for the ditch and, just as he leapt, Rokka howled, ‘Gaddamn it!’

The others lifted Susling from his shoulders. Susling kept repeating over and over again, ‘Antti… it hit you… I heard… you’re hit.’

‘I know… left shoulder… Gaddamn it that hurts.’

They huffed and puffed, and sneezed out water. The medics from the Border Patrol Jaeger Company started binding Rokka and Susling’s wounds. Susling’s wound was bleeding profusely, but it wasn’t dangerous. The bullet had torn through his side, but just at the surface. Rokka’s shoulder, on the other hand, was worse. The bone had obviously been crushed, and when the medic ripped his shirt and moved his arm, Rokka erupted into a litany of curses and his face twisted into pained contortions.

‘Gaddamn it… my shoulder, damn it! See, fellas, you see how it’s bleedin’?’

Vanhala sneezed and coughed, ‘Boys, take a look at this boot! Nearly got me…’

‘Boot nothin’! Just look at my shoulder!’

‘Wouldn’t have taken much. Went right there and right there. Look, guys!’

‘Naw, see here! Who took it worse here, huh? Boot… Just look at my shoulder! Gaddamn it that hurts! If I wasn’t in such pain, I’d laugh. I saw Sankia Priha the Great crawl up outta that crick. I even thought, damn, even you ain’t laughin’ this time!’

‘Heeheehee… brutal fighting as our boys pull out… heeheehee. That’ll wipe a smile off your face all right, heeheehee. But you should’ve seen the glob of snot that came out my nose when I blew it! Heeheehee… But I sucked ’im back up in there where he belongs, heeheehee. Oughtta get a Swimming Cup for that. I mean, we earned it all right.’

Then Rokka remembered the Ensign. He had rushed off to organize the men who had crossed the river first so they could offer support for the Jaegers, as he was afraid the enemy might try to take the same route across. But the enemy stayed on its own side, and the Ensign calmed down.

‘Lissen, Ensign!’ Rokka yelled to him.

‘You badly hurt?’ Jalovaara asked, coming over.

‘Shoulder, damn it. You, you are a curious character.’ Rokka looked at the Ensign for a long time waiting to see his expression.

The Ensign smiled perfectly calmly, however, and said, ‘I was. But I’ve learned my lesson.’

‘You believe me now that we swam?’

‘Can’t deny it. At least not until I put on some dry clothes.’ The Ensign was so calm that Rokka let up right away. He had just wanted to make sure that the Ensign believed him now. He let the issue drop, and Jalovaara started rounding up the platoon to take them further behind the positions, as they were being put on a break. As they headed back, they carried Rokka and Susling to the side of the road to wait for the ambulances. Rokka cursed away on his stretcher, lecturing the others in between his howls of pain. ‘Now, did I really have to live to see the day you fellas’d be carryin’ me round like a cripple? I ain’t never needed help from nobody! But gaddamn it that shoulder burns like hell. How you doin,’ Suslin’?’

‘Better when I ain’t movin’.’

‘You fellas know where Antti Rokka’s goin’? To Lydia. I’m gonna have to count the youngsters to see if we got more of ’em now… Damn it! I ain’t seen’na littlest fella but that one time on leave. The missus’ old man had’da take care a gittin’na family all evacuated. I’m gonna make him up a good barrel a home brew… Antti’s wars’s done. Guess we’ll just see how things go with the arm here.’

‘Shouldn’t be too bad,’ the medic said. ‘It’s just the collarbone that’s broken. Bullet got it on its way out.’

‘Whatever. Hurts like hell, that’s for sure. Of all the stupid ways a… I was three months out in Taipale when it was rainin’ lead and nothin’ happen’na me. Now I git it crossin’na gaddamn crick! But ain’t that the way it always goes… ain’t nothin’ you can do about it.’

The ambulance arrived. Jalovaara took Rokka’s hand and said, frankly and seriously, ‘So, see you… I hope. I would have liked to hold on to you. It’s really only now that we’re going to be short of men. I hope you’ll forget what we said back there. I was a little green. I don’t have to dwell on it, and I guess that kind of thing always happens when you’re inexperienced, but I’d feel pretty bad going around thinking I’d offended you. I heard more about the bad side of your reputation on my way out here than I did about the good side. Now I’ve seen that for myself and I have to say it was pretty stupendous. Well, get well quick, then…! Both of you. Not much chance we’ll be seeing one another out here again.’

‘Lissen, Ensign, don’t you worry ’bout none a that! That was nothin’. You ain’t the only officer I had my spats with. Lissen, I don’t hang on’na none a that stuff. I’ll just tell you a couple a things… you got two good fellas in Määttä and Vanhala there. That lil’ brat Asumaniemi’ll be a real devil once he learns to fight with a little sense about ’im. Honkajoki’s a good fella. Just talks like a crazy man. You just ignore that part. Rahikainen’s a businessman. When you all git hungry, you just put him in charge, he’ll come up with sumpin’. And you’re always gonna be hungry. Have been up to now anyway.’

When they had all said goodbye, they lifted Rokka and Susling into the ambulance. ‘Well, so long, fellas! Suslin’, you better watch out now they don’t go tryin’na separate us in’na transport. I’ll make a real stink if I notice ’em tryin’ anythin’. Gaddamn it! Don’t you put me in like that! I ain’t headin’ out a here feet-first! Uh-huh, well now, that’s just fine.’

The ambulance left. A great shouting emerged from it as it started to move. The medics were being lectured on how to handle the wounded.

‘Same racket he made when he came,’ Vanhala said. He didn’t smile. They were all feeling pretty dispirited. Their group had been stripped of so many members in such a short time. Vanhala, Määttä, Honkajoki and Sihvonen felt as if they’d been orphaned. All around them were strange men.

‘Hietanen, Koskela, Rokka and Susling. Group shrunk all of a sudden,’ Sihvonen said.

‘All of ’em leaders of some sort, except Susling,’ Vanhala said, looking at Määttä. ‘If it keeps on that way, I guess you’re up next, heehee…’

Määttä didn’t answer right away. After a little while he started walking over to another platoon and called back, ‘Doubt the Lord’d bother goin’ after a guy who just happened to end up corporal…’

The morning sun had just risen.

Nervous shooting crackled in the crisp air. A fine mist hovered over the river.

Ensign Jalovaara crawled over to Vanhala. ‘Try to run along that low stretch down there. See that body, the one that’s a Finn?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Their light machine gun is right next to it. There are at least two machine guns in that thicket of fallen trees over there, but their fire can’t reach into the bottom of the low stretch where you’ll be running. Määttä will try to keep them occupied. If you can make it into the trench that way and take the machine guns out of play, the rest is easy.’

Vanhala looked grimly at the hill in front of him. ‘Yeah, I can make it into the trench. Makin’ it out’s another story. Keep that light machine gun quiet.’

‘We’ll follow right behind you and start clearing them out…’ The Ensign looked at Vanhala. ‘If you’d rather not, I can go alone. You can bring the guys in after. I won’t force you to do it.’

‘No, I’ll try. Best to take Asumaniemi and Honkajoki… no more than that. More men won’t be anything but trouble…’

‘All you have to do is take out the machine guns. That’ll open everything up. Honkajoki and Asumaniemi!’

The men crawled over.

‘So here’s the situation. Two or three men need to try to go along that depression and make it to the trench. If we try any other way, it’ll cost us too many men. Vanhala’s going to give it a shot. You guys go along?’

‘I’ll go!’ Asumaniemi said, shooting up his hand like a schoolboy. But Honkajoki said, ‘You’ll have to order me. I would hardly be so bold as to volunteer.’

‘Well, I order you then.’

‘Well, that’s a different story.’

‘So, good luck with it! They have to be pushed back now, boys, that’s all there is to it. If they manage to widen the breach, we’re really going to have our work cut out for us. So, let’s give this a try. At least show them that we’re not going to let them spit in our faces.’

Jalovaara crawled off to the rest of the platoon, leaving the three men to plan their advance.

‘What kind of idiots are they, letting those shitheads get right into the positions! And over the river!’ Asumaniemi swore with manful emphasis, but Vanhala and Honkajoki were silent as they carefully surveyed the foreground. Honkajoki did say, however, as if to restrain the boy, ‘Whoa there! Whoa there! Hold your horses, little bro.’

‘Yeah – you know there are eleven of our guys’ bodies lying over there too, right? They didn’t let it go without a fight,’ Vanhala said.

Since becoming squad leader, Vanhala had started taking things more seriously. To be sure, there was something even in the heavy fighting that stirred his desire to poke fun at it, but responsibility had reined him in somewhat. The corners of his eyes still crinkled with his smile, just as they always had, but his everlasting heehee-ing rang out less frequently now.

The enemy had crossed the river during the night, and under cover of darkness it had succeeded in seizing control of two of their strongholds. The machine-gunners who had been in reserve were assigned to retake them, and so Jalovaara’s platoon was now preparing to take the first. It was to be a surprise attack, with no artillery barrage to soften things up ahead of time. Launching one would have been difficult anyway, as the targets were so close to their own positions. Vanhala, along with Honkajoki and Asumaniemi, had to get into the end of the communication trench that led to the positions. It looked possible, as in between the positions there lay a deep depression, along which they might be able to make it over, if the light machine gun guarding it could be taken out of play. Then the three of them would have to silence the two dangerous machine guns. After that, Jalovaara would be able to get into the positions with the rest of the platoon and start clearing out the enemy.

Vanhala looked at the low stretch for a moment and then said, ‘There’s no telling how it’ll go. Let’s go. No running, huh? It’s too easy for them to spot. Along that heather there, then.’

‘First time in a shock troop.’ Honkajoki tried to smile, without quite succeeding. ‘Quite an undertaking.’

‘Into the river with those shithead Russkis… We’ll pounce like wildcats.’ Asumaniemi shoved a hand grenade into each of his pockets and the others did the same. Vanhala put the drums for the submachine gun where he would be able to reach them easily. Asumaniemi aimed his submachine gun at a tree trunk.

‘Trrrrrt trrt trrrt… trrrt,’ he rolled his tongue, playing like a little boy. He had quite an array of gestures and sound effects, mostly drawn from animated films. He took a hand grenade, pretended to yank the pull ring, and howled, ‘Dist… fiew… oooo… ooo… dong! There she goes and dong! What a sight, boys, neighbors flying through the air!’

The corners of Vanhala’s eyes crinkled as he grinned, ‘Assuming we get to the throwing part.’

‘And assuming you know how to throw,’ said Honkajoki.

‘You bums have no idea how far I can hurl ’em. Year before last I shot my gum with a slingshot at school. That’s my best distance one yet.’

‘Heeheehee…’

‘Oh, I was in for it after that. Well, actually it wasn’t exactly for that. The gum was smuggled from Sweden – the guys bootlegged it. Well, actually I bootlegged it. But that wasn’t the real reason either. We bought booze with the dough we made and they caught us…’

Vanhala looked at Asumaniemi with indulgent interest. The boy had the makings of just about anything in him. He was troubled by a sort of aimless restlessness. At no moment were all the parts of his body still. His eyes were constantly hunting down something new to look at. He operated on almost no sleep at all, yet he never showed any signs of fatigue. He just craved action and made it clear that he enjoyed danger.

‘You’ll end up in officer training once you’re out of grade school,’ Vanhala said.

‘I’m not ending up in any school. I’m gonna be promoted straight off. There’s no way I’m going to any school any more.’

Vanhala looked at his watch. ‘Eight minutes.’

‘Couldn’t we just go earlier? Why do we hafta wait for the group? The three of us can take care of it ourselves.’

Honkajoki rolled his eyes. ‘Let’s go home, Priha… The boy can take care of the rest.’

‘Well, yeah, if you want! I can go on my own.’

Jalovaara lay behind a tree. Time was passing slowly. The platoon was ready, but they had to wait for the appointed time. The Ensign looked at the low stretch along which the shock troop was supposed to advance. He would have liked to have led it himself, but there was no one he could leave in charge of the platoon. Määttä couldn’t manage big groups, as, despite his bravery, he had no ability to get other men moving. He would head out in front himself, but he wouldn’t open his mouth, and the others wouldn’t follow. How desperately they needed Rokka now. The quality of the men just kept deteriorating. The replacements called out of the reserves were useless, and the new recruits born in ’25 were too young and inexperienced. They were often brave, even eager, but it would be weeks before they were fully fledged soldiers.

The past two weeks had changed Jalovaara a great deal. It wasn’t just that he had grown thinner and sprouted a beard, his entire attitude had fundamentally altered. He wasn’t strict any more, as he had originally intended to be, but he had a quiet strength. He was friendly and unpretentious in his dealings with the men. He treated all members of his platoon as his equals. For the past two weeks they had been fighting tough defensive battles in the positions beside the river, and during that time Jalovaara had matured into an officer that the recently promoted Major Lammio could entrust with the most difficult assignments. The battalion had held steadfast to its position, but the fog and darkness of the previous evening had helped the enemy, enabling them to take control of those two key emplacements. The event, however, did provide some evidence of the men’s improved fighting spirit. The Second Company, who had been defending the positions, had only given them up after a bloody, hand-to-hand struggle in the dark. Eleven men from the Second Company’s already sparse Third Platoon were lying back at one of the positions.

‘We have to take it back. We have to hold on to those positions. Even if it means we die here.’ A desperate, bitter defiance surged up in Jalovaara. He knew now that they had lost the war. There could hardly be any doubt about that. But there would be no laughing just yet. Never before had Jalovaara hated the enemy as he did now, with defeat staring him in the face. They were enjoying their victory, making a mockery of everything that was dear to him. No. If everything goes, then we go down with it, fighting like beasts of prey.

Jalovaara got the enemy in the sight of his light machine gun. The men were camouflaged, of course, but they gave themselves away. His shot would announce the attack.

He pressed the trigger.

The clatter of tens of weapons descended in one moment. Määttä’s machine gun quickly joined in, its even, constant hammering cutting through the sundry shooting of the others.

The Ensign spotted Vanhala crawling forward. He had to keep firing continually, though, so he could only follow the action out of the corner of his eye. He did manage to catch a glimpse of Asumaniemi blowing by Vanhala, running practically upright with his rifle blasting away under his arm.

The boy had started crawling behind Vanhala, but when the whistling bullets started raining down around his ears, he rose to his feet and started sprinting forward. That was where he lost his cap. Its showy angle was too steep, and any sudden movement was liable to send it flying.

When Vanhala saw him, he stood up as well. Almost without thinking, he realized that Asumaniemi’s bold sprint had made hiding impossible, and that nothing but speed was going to help them now. Pi phiew. Phiew phiew phiew phiew phiew.

Holding his breath, Vanhala sprinted the forty yards standing between himself and the end of the communication trench. Angry squeals followed him as he ran, and he was conscious of being in a gun-sight the whole time. He hadn’t had time to see where Honkajoki was.

The communication trench began as a low ditch and continued on that way for some distance. The ditch was unmanned, but it was under fire. Vanhala dived to the bottom of it, nearly butting his head up against the heel of Asumaniemi’s boot. Then he glanced backwards and saw that Honkajoki hadn’t followed at all.

Asumaniemi raised his head and looked forward. The movement provoked an angry shower of bullets into the parapet. The boy was pink with excitement and flushed from his run as he gasped, ‘Woo-hoo! We made it! I’m heading in. Follow me and keep your grenades ready! There’s a Russki round that bend. I’ll kill him first. Now listen, man, now we just gotta get ’em right in the eyes. Let’s crawl closer along the bottom of the trench.’

‘For Christ’s sake, boy! There’s two of us!’

‘Don’t be such a whiner! We hafta act fast… I’m going now.’

Asumaniemi set off and Vanhala followed. Just then a hand grenade thudded down in front of them and exploded.

‘I’ll throw.’ Asumaniemi took a grenade and yanked the pull ring. ‘Take that, man!’

The grenade sailed from his hand like a ball from a schoolboy’s and landed precisely where it needed to. The boy sprinted off, his blond hair blowing in the wind, and Vanhala followed on all fours, huffing and puffing, his rear in the air as he scuttled along in a curious sort of gallop. Phiew phiew phiew phiew phiew…

The clattering only intensified. Their own men were shooting furiously, as they had seen Vanhala and Asumaniemi make it into the trench. Jalovaara knew, though, that the hardest part was still to come. The hollow itself was almost in a blind spot, so the danger there wasn’t the greatest they were going to face. Once they reached the positions, however… and that gangly giraffe… fuck!

Jalovaara realized that Honkajoki hadn’t gone out at all. But what was that? There he goes!

The Ensign witnessed a peculiar sight. The towering Honkajoki was crawling forward on his hands and knees. But he didn’t move his hands and legs normally, he moved them in turns, lifting either both hands or both feet at the same time. This made his advance a bizarre sort of hopping procedure. The most amazing thing about the maneuver, however, was its incredible speed. His hands and feet moved jauntily, and he progressed like some outlandish animal straight down the bottom of the hollow. He wrapped up his sprint with a few leaps and disappeared into the communication trench.

Behind the curve in the trench lay a Russian corpse the hand grenade had torn to pieces. Another man was crawling away wounded. Two more were coming down the trench to help him. In the blink of an eye, it was as if they had been frozen in place. They knew that enemy soldiers had made it into this end of the communication trench, but they were still stunned at the sight of this bare-headed boy standing before them with his submachine gun raised.

Trrrrrrrrrrt trrrt trrrrrrt…

Both died without a sound. Asumaniemi yelled backwards, ‘Fork in the trench! Somebody go check the other direction…’

‘He didn’t come,’ Vanhala gasped, but then saw Honkajoki flop down into the trench behind them.

‘Hurry. Hurry… come here!’

Honkajoki came, his eyes round, too out of breath to say a word.

‘There’s a fork in the trench over there… Remember… Whoever goes to the second bunker… Make sure that we can make it into range to take out the machine guns…’

‘Bam.’

‘Hand grenade.’

‘I’ll answer.’ Asumaniemi tossed another grenade. Right after the blast, he took off and made it to the fork in the trench. Three hand grenades in a row sailed toward them, and they leapt a few steps backwards. As they were lying there, Asumaniemi said, ‘I’m gonna go kill that wounded guy. So he doesn’t get us from behind.’

‘He wouldn’t be able to,’ Vanhala panted.

The grenades having gone off, they tried again. Asumaniemi took Vanhala’s grenade too, as Vanhala couldn’t throw very far at all. The boy sped up and threw hard. The grenade flew to just about the spot from which the three grenades had emerged.

‘What will be will be… ding ding ding!’ Asumaniemi ran to the next turn in the trench and shot from behind the corner.

Over the uninterrupted pounding of his submachine gun came Asumaniemi’s shouts of, ‘Guys!… Come here!… Four!… No, more!’

Vanhala and Honkajoki ran crouching after Asumaniemi, making it around the curve in the trench just in time to see the boy empty a drum into a heap of a body that was still moving slightly. They were at the fork in the trench. Vanhala threw two grenades, one after the other, in the direction of the second bunker, and commanded Honkajoki to stand at the head of the trench.

‘Just don’t let ’em through… keep your grenades ready… And if they throw, dodge – but don’t leave…’ Priha was panting with anxiety from the speed of their exertion. Honkajoki was just as frantic, but he nonetheless feigned an air of propriety and straightened up into shooting stance as he said breathlessly, ‘Shock trooper Honkajoki at your service…’

Then Priha threw his last grenade over Asumaniemi’s head, and as soon as it exploded, they headed around the next turn, stepping on the bodies obstructing the trench floor. Soft, limp flesh squished gruesomely underfoot. Asumaniemi was glowing with ecstasy and excitement, and Vanhala was starting to feel some of the same enthusiasm as well. He realized that the operation had succeeded, and this success, combined with his awareness of his own role in it, tickled Priha. He was already smiling.

Just as they both opened fire along the edge of the trench to hold back the enemies manning it, they heard Jalovaara shout from further back on their left. Vanhala glanced over and saw the Ensign running, with Sihvonen and a few of the new men behind him. The other section arrived from behind, coming by way of the same low stretch they had taken.

The two machine guns they had set out to silence sat mute on the bank of the trench. The soldiers manning them had already run by the time Vanhala threw his last grenade. The advancing platoon did encounter some fire from further off, but not enough to halt their attack.

Jalovaara was the first to leap down into the trench. He ordered Vanhala to head back and lead the second section down the trench to the second bunker. The men had received these instructions earlier, of course, but the Ensign still wanted to make sure. He also ordered Vanhala to remind Honkajoki that he was to wait at the fork until Määttä brought the machine gun. It had to be positioned so as to prevent the enemy soldiers from climbing out of the trench and escaping as they evacuated the positions.

‘All right, boys! Now we’re in and we are not letting go. Get to it! Guys in the back, make sure that not one nose peeps out over the edge of this trench. Men in the back, keep the hand grenades coming to the fellows up front. Asumaniemi… OK, here we go.’ Jalovaara was whipped up into a real battle rage. He stepped out in front, hoping to do his part in the whole mission. Watching Vanhala, Asumaniemi and Honkajoki carry out their hand-grenade operation, he had begun to wish he had gone himself and left the platoon to Määttä. He felt a bit ashamed of having sent the others out first – hence his desire to take part in the fighting personally.

They started clearing out the trench. The Ensign walked in front with his submachine gun tucked under his arm, and Asumaniemi threw hand grenades over his head. Some came flying at them from the opposite direction as well, but Asumaniemi easily overwhelmed them. The length and precision of his throws guaranteed that the men could move forward practically unobstructed.

Then the trench joined up with the main artery running along the riverbank. An intense exchange of hand grenades halted them there for a moment, until Jalovaara put a swift end to the skirmish by running boldly up to the turn in the trench and mowing down everything behind it. He brought down a Russian captain along with his three men. That cued the flight.

Then things began to clear up elsewhere too. They were able to retake the other stronghold position the enemy had seized by putting it under heavy fire from the position they’d attained. Jalovaara ordered Määttä and his machine gun to be brought to him as soon as they arrived with the second section, and as soon as they came, they started sending machine-gun and submachine-gun fire over to the neighboring position, over which some intense close-range combat was underway. A large percentage of that stronghold’s posts were practically laid out on a platter before them, and once Määttä got going they could watch the enemy soldiers abandoning the trench. The position had been lost for the very same reason. Once the invaders had taken over the hill that controlled it, they could just shoot their opponents out of their posts and force them to abandon the stronghold, just as the enemy soldiers were now compelled to do themselves, as Määttä shot belt after belt into the trench and the gun-nests.

The others immediately resumed pushing out the enemy. Then came the moment Jalovaara had been waiting for. Their opponents had to climb out of the trench and abandon the position. Hand grenades were still crashing down constantly over by the second bunker, but in front of them the first fugitive was already climbing up onto the parapet. He was trying to make it to the riverbank, but went down after a couple of strides.

Vanhala was behind Asumaniemi and yelled, ‘They’re leaving… Hey… at least ten…’ Several soldiers were climbing from the trench about thirty yards out in front of them. Their plight was hopeless, however.

Jalovaara’s men rushed to the nests and opened fire. Even the more timid men were in a wild frenzy, as the danger was not great and the targets were all the better for it. Enemy soldiers died all along the riverbank. A few made it to the river, but no sooner did they reach the water than it splashed up around them.

‘Aim sharp, boys… time to settle the score, boys… they asked for it…’ Jalovaara’s voice was hoarse as he yelled out brokenly, panting with fury and the rage of battle. Asumaniemi rose up carelessly and said, ‘Hey… I put a stop to that butterfly stroke… did all you bums see that?’

‘Me, too… we came that way too… there… for my bootleg…’ Priha was settling old accounts.

The one who killed fugitives with the greatest panache, however, was Honkajoki, who had joined in late in the game. Actually, it would be false to say that he killed fugitives. That is, he didn’t actually hit anyone, because he didn’t aim – he just shot in the same general direction as the others, looking very splendid and calling to Vanhala, ‘Shock trooper Vanhala, brilliant execution. The homeland will not forget you.’

Honkajoki figured he had pulled his weight in the whole ordeal, if only by the seat of his pants. Although, indeed, he had been a little tardy setting out. But one does have to assess a situation first. Understandably.

Not one enemy soldier made it across the river. Those on the opposite bank were firing intensely, however. A thud came from the direction of the second bunker, and the men could instantly guess what had happened. Blown up with a satchel charge.

‘Guys, I’m out of ammo. Any of you bums got extra?’ Asumaniemi turned slightly to the side in the nest and simultaneously rose so that his head and shoulders popped into view through the opening in the nest. Just then, he tumbled over, grabbing his chest.

The others saw him take a few steps as if he were drunk. Then they heard him say quickly a couple of times, ‘It’s on the left… the heart is on the left…’

Then he fell to the floor of the trench, and when Jalovaara and Vanhala turned him onto his back, they saw that the boy was dead. The bullet had actually struck quite close to his heart.

Jalovaara suddenly turned away. He took a few violent steps, but then got himself under control and said, ‘Always the best…’

The shooting ceased. Everyone was stunned. The easy slaughter of a moment ago and the success of the counter-attack, with no casualties, had lifted their spirits almost to the point of exultation. Asumaniemi’s death thudded down like a sledgehammer in the middle of the elated atmosphere. The final expression on the boy’s face was one of astonishment. No doubt his bravery had been connected to a perfect certainty that danger did not actually exist. He had had one, brief moment in which to realize that playing with one’s life can lead to losing it.

He was, incidentally, one of the most beautiful corpses they had seen. That slightly childish expression of amazement still beamed from his face. Otherwise it was perfectly calm, untroubled by any of the warped contortions that usually made the features of the dead so horrible to look at.

Jalovaara left a few men to secure the riverbank, then set off toward the second bunker’s communication trench with Vanhala, Honkajoki, Sihvonen and one of the new recruits. Six enemy soldiers surrendered there, seeing that they had no hope of escape. They had been retreating down the road the second section had come along when they saw that their escape route was blocked. The last man raised his hands like the others, but then suddenly grabbed the submachine gun he had dropped, stuck the barrel under his jaw, and shot himself. He had the shoulder tabs of a second lieutenant.

The position had been retaken. Two men from the second section had been wounded – one by shrapnel from a hand grenade and the other by a piece of wood that had sailed from the doorpost of the bunker after he threw the satchel charge through its opening. They had taken three prisoners from the bunker, making eight in all. Jalovaara sent them away immediately and hurried to man the positions. As soon as the enemy was sure their own men were all out of the stronghold, they would launch a terrible barrage in revenge. There was no doubt about that.

Things were already quiet in the neighboring stronghold as well. The enemy soldiers over there who had tried to make it to the river ended up dying helplessly, as Määttä’s machine gun was situated at a particularly opportune angle. When Jalovaara reached the machine-gun position, the new recruit who had been assisting Määttä was bursting with excitement. This many and that many men we shot! They dropped like frogs!

Määttä himself was smoking a cigarette and looking indifferent. When Jalovaara congratulated him, he paid the Ensign no attention, then said, as if he hadn’t heard him at all, ‘Might want to pull the team back into the foxholes for cover. Iron’s gonna start comin’ down pretty soon.’

Jalovaara could see that Määttä took no interest in anything but the strictly practical side of things. The Ensign set off down the trench toward the others. They had gathered around Asumaniemi’s body, which the medics had lifted onto a stretcher.

‘He was good at gymnastics,’ a voice said. ‘He was always practicing at the training center ’cause they had bars there.’

‘He was always dangling from the tree branches here, too, whenever he had any time.’

Jalovaara ordered the body to be taken away so that it wouldn’t end up in the barrage.

When the medics had left, he said to Vanhala, ‘This means another stripe for you, Priha. It’s… just… too bad.’ Jalovaara’s voice trembled. ‘What a horrible reward for Asumaniemi.’

Then the Ensign looked at Honkajoki. ‘Well, you did quite all right too.’

The Ensign smiled. He was remembering Honkajoki’s hop-crawl. Honkajoki raised his eyes with a look of respectful earnestness, removed his cap and bowed.

Then they all laughed. A little too much, perhaps. The joy felt slightly hysterical as their anxiety began to wear off. Only Vanhala’s heehee-ing was just as it had been as he said, ‘So we’re gonna have a real live officer on our hands! Lots of blood, sweat and tears goes into a rise in the ranks. But a man’s rewarded in the end! Heeheehee…’

Then they ducked into the foxholes without being commanded. Back-clapping and heehee-ing stopped in a second. Booms sounded from the other side of the river, like potatoes dropping onto the floor. Stalin’s organs.

They lay curled up in the shelters dug into the walls of the trench. Fire, dirt, iron and smoke swirled up over the positions. Their terror was just the same as before. It hadn’t changed at all. Eyes closed, hearts thumping, bodies trembling, they tried to sink themselves into the very earth.

They might have been even more scared today than they had been before, though. They knew that the firing would end soon.

‘Stop, just stop.’

They had finished with the war the day before, but the enemy had yet to do so. It was as if might was flaunting its divinity, taunting them, even in these final moments.

Watchful, exhausted and beyond worn out, they waited for the blasts to cease. What use had their dogged stint by this river been? What use had the counter-attack a few days ago been? They were going to have to relinquish the positions.

Right. They had lost. Received their punishment. Why had it happened this way? Well, there would be many answers to that, no doubt. There was, at least, one consolation in it all. In handing them this whipping, fate had released them from all responsibility. What would victory have meant? Responsibility. Responsibility for deeds they would have been obliged to account for, sooner or later. Because as long as the history of humanity marches on, the cause of what follows will be what came before. And in cause lies responsibility. He who presides over the cause must answer for the consequences. And maybe it was just these exhausted men’s good fortune that neither they nor their descendants would be the ones obliged to answer. They had already atoned for their sins – paid for them with their own hides. They had but one hope left: to pull the shreds of their lives through these final minutes.

And after that, they would stand free, cleared, blameless. Happy.

The thunder continued. It roared in fantastic crashes far through the clear, autumn air. It churned on even in these final seconds, as if it were declaring, intoxicated by its own greatness: Woe to the vanquished!

But at least they did not have to fear the voice resounding in its echo: Woe to the victors!

Määttä opened his eyes. He saw dirt falling to the trench floor. A man appeared around the corner of the trench. It was some older guy who’d been called out of the reserves and who had seemed a bit off for a while now. He was bare-headed, and in the middle of his filthy face the whites of his eyes bulged out, round, wild and frightened.

‘Get under cover!’

The man heard Määttä yell, but instead of obeying, he remained standing in front of his shelter.

‘Get down!’

‘Would if it was any use.’ The man stared straight ahead as he spoke, paying no attention to Määttä. The latter emerged from his shelter and said, ‘Get down. Peace is coming.’

The man gazed wide-eyed at Määttä, and then, without further ado, started climbing up to the parapet. Määttä grabbed hold of him. The man started to wrench himself free, but Määttä yanked him to the trench floor, where a tough wrestling match ensued. Just then, the cannon fire ceased, and once it had fallen silent, the stillness was broken only by Määttä’s grunting and the shouts of the madman. ‘Get off! Goddamn parachutists! Lemme go! I’ll dictate… Land and peace for everybody… And I’ll give power to everybody… But lemme go for Christssake…’

Vanhala, Sihvonen, Rahikainen and Honkajoki hurried over to help. The man struggled and howled as he thrashed about beneath Määttä, who was trying to hold him still. They didn’t manage to get him under control until there was a man on each of his arms and each of his legs, in addition to Määttä, who was sitting on his chest. The man screamed and cursed, his teeth clenched and his mouth foaming. He muttered senseless words and phrases between wild howls.

Men emerged from the shelters. With tired faces, they followed in silence as the madman was led away.

The Finnish War was over.

Tins of ersatz coffee dangled from the ends of sticks. Mielonen walked along the road, calling out, ‘If anybody wants to hear, you can come listen to the rrradio at the command post. Some Secretary spoutin’ off.’

The men were lying about by the roadside, some sleeping, others making coffee.

‘We can hear it from here. Anyway, we know what’s coming. Old as the alphabet.’

‘Them and their goddamn speeches. Speeches won’t help anything. When you’re all out of gunpowder, you’re better off just keepin’ your trap shut. Now they’re gonna go dronin’ on about the rights of small nations. Dog’s cue to piss.’

It was Rahikainen.

‘Yup. That’s for sure. Losers get the shit kicked out of them. And that’s that.’

It was Sihvonen. Angry and exhausted, but somehow not quite certain who it was he was angry at.

‘…the establishment of good relations with our neighbors. May friendship and cooperation with other nations be our aim henceforth.’

It was the Secretary.

Honkajoki fished some bread out of his pack and came across a couple of pieces of wood carved into bizarre shapes. He tossed them to Vanhala and said, ‘Into the fire with them, Priha! I’ve lost my inspiration.’

Priha was on his knees beside the campfire. He blew into it and got a light flurry of ash in the eyes. He rubbed them with his fists. Then he looked at Honkajoki. Dirt and grime covered his face, which had lost much of its previous roundness. But the red, puffy corners of his eyes still crinkled with his smile as he shook with laughter and said, ‘If only we still had your bow… heeheehee!’

‘Alas. If only that damn Bushki, excuse me, that Soviet in the shrubbery, hadn’t made it into the position from the side… making me suffer the most distressing loss of this war.’

Priha turned toward the campfire again and said, blowing on the flames, ‘The Union of Soviet Socialist Republics won, but racing to the line for a strong second place came feisty little Finland.’

The ash swirled up. Heeheeheeheehee.

Soon, even the last of them had dropped off to sleep. A lone horse-cart made its way along the road, its rattle echoing through the forest. Tent tarps covered its load. A stiff hand clenched into a fist dangled down beneath one of the edges. The last of the casualties were heading home.

Ensign Jalovaara sat far off in the forest. He had made his way there gradually, as if he had no idea where he was going. When he saw that no one was around, he sat on a mound of grass and let his head drop between his hands. He sat motionless for a long time, staring at the ground. From far down the road, the clatter of the cart receded further and further into the distance.

His eyes were damp. Jalovaara clenched his jaw for a long time, trying to steel himself against what was coming. But eventually his shoulders began to quiver, and his whole body shook with the bitter, violent convulsions of a man brought to tears. Between sobs and clenched teeth, he repeated over and over, ‘We heard… they let us know… that Finland’s dead… her tombs already deep beneath the snow… snow…’

The autumn sun had climbed to midday, warming the ground and the men sprawled out over it. Clusters of lingonberries glistened in their low-lying bushes. The cart rattled faintly off into the distance and silence fell, swallowing everything up into the stillness of the dry pine forest. The tired men slept. The sun smiled down on them. It wasn’t angry – no, not by any means. Maybe it even felt some sort of sympathy for them.

Rather dear, those boys.