While working on my armor I thought a lot about that declaration of war, about the beheaded pigeon, and about how this wasn't going to be just another game but a real war, a fight to the finish, and when I thought of that bloody pigeon, my heart always sank a little, but I figured I wasn't the only one thinking like that, no, even Puju said maybe he wouldn't be at the battle after all since his dad didn't want to let him go, and when I then asked him why he'd told his dad there was going to be a battle, because if the workers at the collective farm, the collectivists, found out that we were all set to trample the wheat, not only wouldn't they let us but they'd give us a good beating to boot, but then Puju got really mad and said he hadn't told his dad a thing, and anyway, it was easy for me, my dad was off at the Danube Canal so I could do what I wanted, no one was going to kick my ass, and then I told him that he's a scaredy-cat, a crybaby, and that he'd better not mention my dad because I'd kick him good, and I also said that if he didn't come to the battle, he'd lose his Young Pioneer's honor forever, but then Sunday morning came and even I was thinking that maybe it would be better to stay at home, sure. After breakfast I got out my blowgun all the same, and I put on my two ammo belts in a crisscross over my shoulders, I'd filled the belts with rolled-up, dried-up blowgun pellets, and then I told Mother I was going down to play, but I thought how good it would be if she said I wasn't going anywhere, that she needed me at home, except Mother didn't say a thing, she didn't even stand up out of the great big armchair by the window where she was sitting around a lot nowadays, she gave only a nod that meant "All right," and so I headed off after all, I went up the hill to the Big Tree because I knew the others would soon be there too, so we could talk over our tactics and our strategy.
By the time I got there, they already had a fire going in the old combat helmet, almost everyone from our apartment block was there and everyone had their weapons with them, Jancsi and some others had lathed themselves real throwing stars and tomahawks, I had my tin knife with me, sure, I knew it wouldn't be worth much in hand-to-hand combat, but I brought it with me all the same, figuring that when you're lying low in the wheat field in a war, it feels good to have your hands on a knife. Anyway, when I got there to the Big Tree, Csabi was just throwing two handfuls of corks into the combat helmet, and that made the smoke even smellier, and just about everyone was there, everyone except for our commander, Big Prodán, who was the biggest of the our-streeters, before the Frunza brothers came along no one had ever managed to beat him up, and he was the one who got us the combat helmet, saying he dug it up out of a civil war soldier's grave, not that anyone believed it, no, Janika once told me that it wasn't a combat helmet at all, only a stew pot, but anyway, by the time the corks were all burnt up Prodán got there too, he had a quadruple-barreled blowgun with him, it was really something, every single one of its PVC pipes had electric tape all around it, he even made it a stock and a grip, it looked completely like a genuine machine gun, plus he found a strap for it so he could wear it around his neck, and he had a mace tied to his waist, he'd made that using a dumbbell, and the combat wrist-guards on both his arms reached almost all the way to his elbows and were studded with square brass clamp nails, the sort used on ships, and along with the mace a knife was also tied to his waist, one with a long black handle, never had I seen a knife like that before, it looked really warlike, and when Prodán reached the combat helmet, he took the canteen off his belt right away and poured water over the smoldering corks, which caused a lot of hissing and smoke, and the black liquidy soot that remained in the helmet was like pitch, that was our color of battle, that black stuff. Prodán was the first to paint himself with it, he spread it all over his face and his forehead until you could hardly recognize him, and then he let out a war cry, and one after another we each painted our face, and I did too, but I was careful not to touch my mouth with the stuff because I knew cork ash had a really bitter taste, of course right then it didn't occur to me that the sweat would make it run into my mouth, anyway, the others also painted their faces nice and black, and once everyone was done Prodán stood in front of us and said that this would be a big battle and a difficult one, and that we should get it through our skulls that the enemy's main headquarters were at the other end of the field, at the watchtower by the edge of the woods, we had to get all the way there and get the leather ball, but that wouldn't be enough for victory, no, to do that we had to bring the ball back here to the Big Tree, and Prodán said the best tactic would be to begin by scattering apart as much as possible, as quietly as we could, so when he gave the signal, all of us would attack the other-streeters from as many directions as possible, and then he told me and Puju to go up close to him, we'd be the special reconnaissance force, we'd be getting our very own assignment, and when we then went up to him, he said that when he gave the signal and everyone on our side all started shouting hurrah, we shouldn't attack along with the others but instead stay down in the wheat and try to get as close as possible to the watchtower, we shouldn't even go shooting anyone in the back if we didn't need to, and when we heard Prodán shout the war cry three times, that's when we should break cover and try to get our hands on the ball, and when we had it, then we'd run like friggin' hell back toward the Big Tree and he'd come after us, and at the end he'd be the one running with the ball, and they wouldn't catch up to him, and that's how we'd achieve victory, and then he looked at us and asked if we understood, and Puju and I said we did, but I also said I didn't like the idea of lying low that way, why didn't he send his kid brother instead, and couldn't we be in on the hand-to-hand combat too, and Prodán said, sure we could if we wanted to lose and to defy our commander's will, and we should get it through our skulls that we were too weak for real fighting, and besides, how dare we even bring his kid brother into this, and how dare we shoot off our traps about hand-to-hand combat when both of us were chickenshits, he knew we'd shit our pants right away, that's how scared of the Frunza brothers we were, and we'd better watch out because one more word out of us and he'd take away our weapons and hound us right into the wheat field, and while saying that he shook his head like he was all teed off and he pulled out that big knife I'd never seen on him before, and he held it there in front of us and told us to take a good look, this was a real bayonet he'd dug out of the same grave as that combat helmet there, and that long groove by the tip of the blade, why, that was the blood gutter, and if we didn't obey his commands word for word, then we shouldn't be surprised to see our own blood flowing down that gutter because he swore he'd stab us in the belly himself, and after doing that maybe he'd scalp us too, and then Puju and I didn't say a thing, and Prodán asked if we understood, and we said we did, and meanwhile I wished his shoulder wound would tear right open so he'd get blood poisoning, and then Prodán put away the bayonet and turned to the others and said, "Prepare for battle," and then we all stood in a circle and stretched out our right arms and put our hands on top of one another's, all at once we let out our war cry, which went, "Justice and brotherhood, the revolution will triumph!" and then we all started running toward the wheat field.