‘Won’t send me alive.’
‘Lissen, Koskela, you hear what these fools are sayin’? It’s mutiny they’re talkin’ ’bout! Say, what the hell you got goin’ on over there?’
Koskela was lying belly-down on a rock, using a twig to bait ants into attacking one another. Two ants hurled themselves into battle just as Rokka was speaking, so Koskela just said, ‘Not now!’ He was smiling – that curious, private smile of his, evident only in and around his eyes.
Kariluoto walked over. He had taken off his cap and the wind was ruffling his hair. He walked with his head held high, cutting a stiff, noble profile. He felt unwittingly like the blond, conquering knight of the West, standing atop his hill and gazing out over the conquered city. Even his face had taken on a look of cast steel, though Kariluoto wasn’t aware of it. One of the greatest moments of his life had just taken place. A company commander of the Finnish infantry, he had watched as the blue crosses of the Finnish flag rose up onto the flagpoles of the tallest buildings of Petroskoi. Whatever the journey out had cost, for that moment it was forgotten. There he stood, son of the independent Finland, the young crusader, with a strange lump caught in his throat. He was moved.
Then he cleared his throat, pulled up his holster so his belt wouldn’t sag, took a deep breath, and said, ‘Well, men. There she is. The Jaeger Brigade and troops from the First Division have manned the city from the south and southwest. As it went, we were not called upon to carry out that mission. But let whoever should march in first, march – the fact remains that we were the ones who opened the road. And if history tells it otherwise, then history lies. There are still a few patrols cleaning up down there, but that will all be over soon. We are to remain here and make sure no one is permitted to escape. So, take a breather, but keep your eyes peeled.’
‘Are we going to get some time off the line?’
‘I don’t know, but let’s hope so. All right, men. Our company was the first to see the city. I mean, the first of the troops advancing from this direction.’
‘Yeah, and Viirilä saw it first!’
‘Me first, mpaahaahaahaa… mpaahahahaha! I saw it first!’
Kariluoto managed a weak smile. While he had to recognize that Viirilä was the bravest man in the company, he still felt a kind of aversion toward him. It felt blasphemous, somehow, to think of this large-headed ape at a moment like this. Even just the man’s outward appearance was repulsive. The hunched back, bowed legs and that massive head. His clothes were always half falling off. And as for his pack, the man didn’t even have one. He just let his filthy mess kit dangle from the belt loop of his jacket. His pockets bulged with various belongings, and there was a spoon poking out from the bottom of his trouser-leg. Sometimes Kariluoto seriously wondered if the man was insane. Grunting and laughing and muttering things that rarely contained anything that made sense – just as he was doing now. Blurting things out and then bursting into grunts of laughter, shaking his head. ‘Mpaahaahaahaahaa! Private Viirilä… mpaahaahaahaahaa! Guard of the Homeland mpaahaahaahaahaa…’
Kariluoto walked off to the side in embarrassment. It was too difficult trying to find anything in this man that would be appropriate to the moment Kariluoto had just experienced.
Time passed. The shooting in the city had ceased, and they could discern movement within it.
‘Snatched right out from under our noses. Won’t be anything left over there,’ Rahikainen lamented, gazing longingly out over the airstrip.
At first it looked as though they weren’t going to enter the city at all. But at dusk they received an urgent order to march in and take up positions as an occupying battalion. Apparently, somebody had found a massive keg of liquor – which may have been left there intentionally – and the previous occupying battalion was now rip-roaring drunk and looting the city.
They advanced down the ‘May First Road’, at some point coming across a large tractor stuck in the mud. Random, drunken shots rang out all along the streets, whistling past their ears and frequently forcing them to take cover. The descendants of the Hakkapeliittas, Finland’s fabled war heroes, were celebrating their victory, three centuries later.
On turning one corner, they found themselves facing a party of four: a captain and three privates. Two of the privates were dragging the Captain by the armpits, his body having gone entirely limp, and the third was walking out in front playing a mandolin. The Captain’s legs trailed along the ground and his head hung down over his chest, though he would occasionally raise it up to bellow out some garbled exclamation.
‘Damn it, why don’t you try to walk by yourself for a while,’ one of the guys said to the Captain he was dragging. ‘We drank just as much as you did, but you’re like a wet dishrag.’
‘Play “Hessu”…’ the Captain blurted out. ‘Play With swords we draw the dividing line… From Ladoga straight to the White Sea!… Not we to be shaken, though fate should present… dadada deeda dee dee da da!’
‘Here, you try walking a bit…’
‘Walky walk walk. Deedeedadadadadeedeeda…’
The Captain swung his head and bellowed, ‘Not we to be shaken, though fate should present… Roads arduous, we will prevail… Not one tribe of Finland from us shall be rent… Our bonds are too great to assail!…Well, looky there, what unit’s that?’
The Captain noticed the approaching battalion and started bellowing, ‘Welcome to Camp Finland! Howdy do… what units are you? Present yourselves! I am Captain Usko Antero Lautsalo… but you can call me the Wrath of God. Terror of the Russkis, Number One… seeing as the Wrath rolled right over them… Play “Hessu” so these guys can hear the great Captain Lautsalo’s approach…’
Lammio ordered the Captain’s entourage to get him out of sight, but received only brazen responses of, ‘Go to hell! We’re in the Captain’s command and no lil’ loo-tenint’s gonna tell us what to do.’
It was clear that the men had decided to take advantage of their drunken fraternity with the Captain, thus rendering Lammio powerless, as he couldn’t actually arrest a superior officer. It was a bitter pill to swallow. They were like the servants who usurp their master’s power in his moment of weakness. ‘Listen Usko… Hey, Usko…’
The Captain noticed Lammio. He tried to stand up on his own legs and put on an absurdly comical sternness. His head swerved indecisively from one shoulder to the other, and the energy he was expending to keep himself imposingly upright was fast petering out.
‘Lieutenant… I ask you… I am Captain Usko Antero Lautsalo… and I am asking you, I, who earned the name the Wrath of God in the Winter War, I am asking you, what right do you have to order my men around…’ Then the Captain shook his head, hiccuped, and forgot both Lammio and whatever it was he had been talking about, bellowing, ‘Maaa-ay the na-aation of Finland forever be faith—hick!… hick!… faithful and valiant…’
‘I consider it within my rights to alert your men to the inappropriateness of their behavior,’ Lammio said.
‘Hick!… hick!… I do the commanding… hick!… and I command you to advance, my brave boys. We’ve still got half a bucket of booze… don’t we?’ The Captain stared at his men searchingly for a moment, awaiting their assurance, and when they offered it, he continued, ‘Play “Hessu”… Everyone should hear the arrival of the great Usko Antero Lautsalo, Captain of the Army of the Republic of Finland… hick!… Advance. We’ve taken Petroskoi. Made the dreams of centuries come true… hick!… Play “Hessu”… Hee… hee… advance… Lit with flaaaaames of desire, we are burning with rage. He who thiiinks he can last, let him stand in our way… Once a Northern man has set out to wage… War, be afraid! Hick!…’