‘That cloud the bomb made is pretty high up there.’ That was what had interested Määttä.
Their break stretched on for a surprisingly long time. Lammio’s ‘return to discipline’ had no effect whatsoever, as orders came down from on high, instructing the officers to avoid putting any unnecessary strain upon the men. Rahikainen’s threat of sneaking more rations was realized as well, and Koskela even agreed to use all the powers of his position to assist in the operation. He knew perfectly well that Rahikainen was stealing the provisions from somewhere, but he also knew that the men were genuinely suffering from lack of nourishment. One serving could keep a man’s strength up – just – but it was far from sufficient for a growing adolescent stomach, which would start eating up its owner’s body instead and make him emaciated. Koskela also knew that the men in charge of provisions were hardly denying themselves the privilege of sneaking more than their allotted rations, so he privately hoped Rahikainen would succeed in his venture and appointed him as his interim runner to replace the fallen Salonen. In truth, from that point onward, Koskela ceased to have a special runner because he didn’t need one, but he kept Rahikainen in the position because it permitted him the greatest freedom of mobility. Rahikainen’s standard reply from then on, whenever anybody took an interest in his comings and goings, was, ‘Errand for Ensign Koskela!’
News of the machine-gunners’ famous punishment had spread throughout the regiment, transforming as it went, of course, into a rumor of fantastic proportions. Even the Commander took an interest in the event, stopping on one of his rounds through the camp to ask Lehto, ‘Were you the one who took the punishment over there?’
‘Me and a couple others, Major, sir.’
Sarastie smiled benevolently. ‘Well, well. Next time you start adventuring, you might want to be a little more careful. Playing hooky is all well and good, but you can’t let yourself get caught.’
As he was leaving, he explained to his aide, mostly to demonstrate the sharpness of his psychological eye, ‘Even from up here where I stand, anyone can see that every last inch of that man is made out of steel. He just has that typical Finnish hatred of having anyone over him. That kind of energy and grit are worth their weight in gold. Lammio’s just squandered them. It seems that his hold on things generally isn’t quite up to the demands of the current situation. I’ve observed as much, but it’s hard to get him to understand these types of things, as capable an officer as he is otherwise. I remember Kaarna talked about this guy Lehto once and proposed him for officer training. The basis for his argument was entirely accurate – that the man’s character was extremely valuable, but that placed under authority he would just revolt, whereas if they put him in a position commensurate with his skill level, he would be extremely successful.’
‘Indeed,’ the aide replied. ‘This event clearly demonstrates how aggression operates. If it is suppressed, it is spoiled and transforms into a spirit of revolt. Correctly handled, it can be cultivated upwards for the benefit of society.’
‘Precisely. This is what each social community needs to know in order to function properly. Just think how many men with this kind of anger, which gnaws away at society itself, could be directed upwards, for the greater good.’ The Major fell silent in such a way that imposed silence upon his aide as well. An intense, inward-looking gaze lit up Sarastie’s eyes. He looked as if he must be thinking wise thoughts. In truth he wasn’t thinking anything at all, he was just feeling pleased with his recent speech and the depth of his insight. Sarastie was not willing to grant that the ideal officer was this kind of ‘daredevil’ type who was merely effective in carrying out his missions. He was of the opinion that you had to be able to consider the world a bit more broadly too. Take him, for example. His thoughts didn’t circle around in the conventional grooves that suited a battalion commander. He had read a great deal of military history and he was able to conceive of the war within a larger framework. Then his thoughts turned to the decorations ceremony to be held that evening, which pleased him, as he was to be awarded a Liberty Cross.
The battalion did indeed gather that evening for the investiture of decorations. The Regiment Commander had arrived personally to distribute the medals.
First, he inspected the battalion, looking each man in the eye as if he were trying to pierce straight through him. One of the great skills the army can provide is that which enables a person, whom one might otherwise consider perfectly sensible, to carry out this kind of exercise without laughing. To walk up and down the ranks with furrowed brows, staring the people down, and taking in the grave, disheveled faces staring back in return, each struggling to express the very surliest aspects of its owner’s personality.
Then the Colonel gave a speech. He tried to infuse his voice with a certain tone of camaraderie, and to speak in a way that was both elegant and masculine at the same time. ‘Men! Now, at my first opportunity to see you all gathered together since the outbreak of the war, I would like to thank each and every one of you for the work you have done. I do not need to read off your accomplishments, for you know them yourselves; and one day they will be known everywhere. You have been confronted with daunting tasks, and you have carried them out superbly. The regiment has already made its proud and distinguished mark in the glorious pages of Finland’s military history. And I am convinced that you will continue to fill its covers with new and equally brilliant chapters. I thank each and every one of you for the readiness and bravery you have demonstrated in your service to this shared cause so dear to all of us. The admiration and esteem of our friends, and the fear of our enemies, provide testaments to the Finnish man’s capacity to take up arms in the defense of his home and the safety of his family. And so we continue on. Our task is to ensure the security and independence of our nation, and we will keep our swords drawn as long as necessary in the fulfillment of that duty.
‘I have been charged with the task of distributing tokens of the nation’s gratitude: medals of distinguished service awarded in recognition of those who have had the opportunity to serve with exceptional distinction.’
Names followed. The officers received Liberty Crosses and the NCOs and privates got Liberty Medals. Each man went up to receive his decoration from the hands of the Colonel, along with congratulations. Some of them took their time walking up, soaking up every last moment in the limelight, but most scurried up and back at a sort of half-run, as if embarrassed to be receiving a prize for something they didn’t realize they had done. They could not have been more Finnish in the disparaging attitude they all took toward the proceedings. Shitty little trinkets.
The trinkets were trivial, of course, particularly in the minds of those to whom they were not conferred. The strangest thing about the whole business, though, was that it did not seem to dawn on a single one of them that what they were honoring was the best killers. Not even the battalion chaplain, who led the closing prayer. This last went rather dismally, as the Colonel’s presence gave the chaplain stage fright and banished whatever pitiful trace of oratorical skill he might have possessed.
All sorts of curiosities emerged from that man’s mouth: about how the devil’s henchmen were going to be crushed with the help of the army of God, and also that of the Germans; and about how many of their comrades had already borne the heavy burden of sacrifice before the altar of the nation’s success.