On the fifth day of the march, toward evening, they noticed that the road began to look less trampled on. Before long it dwindled into nothing more than a path, and just about then a long swath hacked out of the forest opened up before them.
‘Guys, the old border.’
The event revived their spirits somewhat. Hietanen, standing in the middle of the clearing, took one big leap and said, ‘Aaand now! The Hietanen boy stands on foreign soil!’
‘We’re in Russia now, boys,’ Salo said.
Lahtinen hobbled over irritably, glaring at the others out of the corner of his eye and muttering, ‘So we are. And here our rights end. By which I mean, from this point on, we’re a pack of bandits. Just so you know.’
‘Bandits, bandits!’ Sihvonen snarled angrily. ‘So we’re bandits when we cross borders? And when other people move them, they’re just protecting their nation’s security…? Bandits, bandits… huh-huh.’ He gave a few bitter snorts, not so much because he was in a political passion as because he had sand in his shoe and couldn’t stop to get it out without falling too far behind.
Hietanen looked around and said congenially, ‘Doesn’t seem like there’s a whole lot for a pack of bandits to steal around here. Even the road got a whole lot worse all of a sudden. Woods look the same, though… Hey… hey, guys. We’ve marched across Karelian song country! Isn’t it somewhere around here that those old boys and biddies sang all kinds of folk songs and dirges? I heard something like that somewhere or other. Though I wonder what in the world a dirge is anyway. Crying and singing at the same time? I watched some old biddies at a funeral once try to chant and cry at the same time, but nothing much came outta that. Nothing but some sorta whiny screeching.’
‘Seems like we might have reason to sing a dirge or two ourselves around here.’ Lahtinen took a swig of warmish water from his canteen and continued, ‘I mean, I guess they’re gonna dig in pretty good now that we’ve crossed over onto their side. Before they were, like, sure, go ahead and take Karelia if it means that much to you – look, we’ll give it to you. But we’ll just see how things go once we’re in there. I mean, you shouldn’t go poking a bear in its den, that’s all I’m sayin’.’
‘Well, it’s different if you got a gun,’ said Salo. ‘Even we’re not going in with spears to fight them this time.’
‘Humph… you and your guns… Guns aren’t gonna to be much help…’
‘There’s a lot of troops in front of us,’ Hietanen said. ‘They won’t send us back out to the line right away.’
‘Look boys, we don’t even know, our job might end right here,’ Salo broke in. ‘The fellows over there was sayin’ they told the reservists it’ll take three weeks and then we’ll be heading back in time to make hay. And it’s already been two.’
‘Ha, ha, ha,’ Lahtinen laughed with bitter contempt. ‘Where’d you get that? The Daily Bullshitter? The officers made that rumor up to get the reservists to cross the old border. Oh, they know how to do it all right. Gonna build that Greater Finland. Got their heads so hot they got steam coming out their noses.’
‘Suhna Superpower in the Making! Heehee. And they’re off! Our forest warriors show the world what Finnish spirit can do. With our valiant Lottas standing by our boys. Heehee…’
‘Humph… Tell you what…’
The lift they’d felt upon crossing the border died away, and they trudged on in silence. Astonishingly, the march ended earlier than usual, however, and they set up camp in a thicket of saplings along the banks of a creek. As soon as they’d eaten, they hurried to soak their feet in the cold creek water. Some men even splashed around trying to swim, though the water barely reached their knees. Cannons boomed somewhere out in front of them, mingling occasionally with the faint, far-off chatter of machine guns.
‘There it is again, boys. They’re waiting for us.’
‘Of course they are. We’re about to go open the road.’ Sihvonen was standing in the creek with his trouser-legs rolled up, washing his foot-rags. ‘But hey, look, the peacock’s headed this way. I wonder what he wants over here.’
Lieutenant Lammio stepped off the main road toward their encampment. He had already managed to get cleaned up and don a fresh uniform. Knowing that the regiment would still be on break for a while, he had decided to take advantage of this time by redressing the declining discipline of his company. The Lieutenant was possessed of a principle, which he had fashioned for himself by drawing upon his vast store of stupidity, as well as his many character flaws. The principle was: strict discipline and systematic militarism. He established the necessity of this principle for himself via such thoughts as: discipline is the backbone of the army, and the will of the leader can affect men only through that spine of discipline that runs down the center of the group. This reasoning wasn’t something that Lammio had dreamt up on his own, it just happened to offer a position that suited his needs. His ideal soldier was an officer who, well-groomed and white-gloved, led his unit with a cold, proud bravery. His men would feel a humble admiration toward him and obey him out of sheer respect. Such an officer would himself demonstrate unfailing compliance with the demands of military discipline. Lammio did grant his exalted being one reprieve in this regard, however, particularly while he was still young: after a few drinks, he might ride his horse right into some restaurant or other and order two glasses of champagne – one for himself, and one for the horse. He would get a confinement, naturally, but the Commander would clap him on the shoulder with a knowing smile and say, ‘Well, you know the rules… But what a devil… what a devil!’
The Division Management headquarters were nearby, and there were some ‘feisty little Lottas’ over there – which explained the white collar Lammio had fixed to the neck of his shirt.
He stopped and tapped his index finger on the stem of his bone cigarette-holder, dumping out the ash before beginning to speak in his shrill voice: ‘A-hem. The Master Sergeant will be arriving to distribute your daily allowance, so everyone is to remain within the camp area. In any case, absence without official leave is, of course, prohibited. You are to assemble in work groups with your comrades-in-arms to wash your shirts in the creek. Then you are to cut your hair and shave. If I see unkempt men at noon tomorrow, additional housekeeping diversions will be devised for those parties. And one more item. Just because we are now at war does not mean that discipline has been relaxed. I observed some notable lapses during the march, and I intend to root them out immediately. The company looked more like a band of vagrants than an army unit. That kind of pig-headed, battle-hardened mentality will not be tolerated. This regiment has already proven instrumental in the army corps’ war operations, earning a reputation on the basis of its first combat situation. Each man here is to take that reputation as his own and conduct himself accordingly. Remember, this is not the Rajamäki Regiment, nor the Friday Fishing Club. This is an elite troop of the Finnish army. And may I remind you that the upper management is located not far from where we stand, so should the company’s conduct provoke any criticism, I have plenty of means available to me to get things back in line. I hope my meaning is not lost on any of you. To your assignments.’
Hietanen was sitting on a rock on the creek bank, dangling his feet in the water. He’d been watching the others during Lammio’s speech, looking at them one at a time, and when Lammio finally fell silent, he said, ‘I trust that all of you heard this very important speech. I only hope you are capable of understanding what it means.’