Salo proceeded out in front, frequently on all fours, as the weight of the sled kept threatening to force him over onto his back. Määttä pulled silently, but powerfully, keeping an eye out for lumps and hollows in the snow so as to keep the sled moving as efficiently as possible. Lahtinen pulled with the whole weight of his towering body, and whenever the sled got caught on a rock or a tree stump, he would lurch against it, yanking his rope in a furious surge of determination and swearing grimly, ‘God… damn… it.’
They took little breaks in between, sitting on the sled and catching their breath. Lahtinen panted, ‘God damn it! Come on, bullet, come and kill me! Of all the shit jobs! And meanwhile the fat cat sits back in his rocker, counting up his profits from black market grain. Hell, if somebody just turned up here, somebody who wasn’t all mixed up in this shit already, I mean, you know what he’d say? A guy who doesn’t necessarily know the ways of the world or anything, but just knows the sensible, necessary stuff, I mean? He’d be downright flabbergasted. Grown men dragging a goddamn toboggan back and forth through the forest!’
Lahtinen paused for a moment to control his temper, which he then proceeded to vent in the form of a dialogue between himself and this rational creature of his imagining. ‘He’d take a look at these shovels and crowbars and ask, “Are you going to build a road or dig the foundations for a house?” And what am I supposed to say? What could I say but, Ye-ahh… not exactly… we need these to bury ourselves in the ground so we don’t get killed. Then the little pain in the ass would wonder, “What’s that extraordinary contraption you have there? What do you do with that?”… Huh-huh. What do you do with it? You’ll see… Mmhm. I gotta fight out here even if I don’t know what the hell I’ve got to fight for. My life, I guess, but I’m pretty sure I could do a better job of hanging on to that somewhere else. I haven’t got any homeland and I left religion back in confirmation classes. I got something resembling a place to live, but it’s the company that owns it. Fight to protect your parents, the chaplain says! Well, hell, I’ve only got a mom, and if some Russki thinks he can do something with that old bag then by all means, he can have her… Well, hell! Let’s get to it. God damn these tree stumps! Tugging at you like little beggar boys… Would it kill ’em to chop ’em a little lower?’
The journey continued. Lahtinen’s anger was channeled into the hauling effort. Though he did yell at Salo, who had let his rope go noticeably slack, ‘You pull, too, God damn it! You haven’t even broken a sweat!’
Salo’s rope tightened and over their huffing and puffing came the very sensible response, ‘I ain’t tryin’ to break a sweat. Just tryin’ to get this sled to move.’
They started to hear intense firing out in front of them on the left, and suspected that the battalion had reached the enemy service road. They were just about ready to drop with exhaustion when they finally caught up with the platoon, which had already fanned out into formation. Lahtinen decided by himself that the machine gun should be positioned right in the middle of the platoon, in a cluster of trees jutting out of the forest. He recognized immediately that it was the best spot. On the whole, he was a good machine-gun leader, as he knew how to organize things so the weapon would be useful.
The area they needed to cover was extensive, and the Ensign leading the rifle platoon was apprehensive about the mission. His platoon was supposed to cover the flank of the advancing formation, so it absolutely had to hold its position – and it was very likely that the enemy would do everything it could to keep its service road open. The Ensign trudged through the snow to the machine gun and said, ‘That’s right. This is the best spot.’
His position of responsibility had made him feel a bit isolated, so he continued chatting, sociably, ‘We may be able to get through without any resistance, but if they come at us, you start shooting full blast.’
Lahtinen was still pissed off about his recent exertion and snarled irritably, ‘Of course we shoot! You think we’re gonna sit here sucking our thumbs while they mow us down?’
The Ensign, baffled at Lahtinen’s outburst, continued on his way.
The cold grew worse. The horizon receded into a bleak, cold red as the winter sun sank down behind it. The snowdrifts between the trees began to take on a blue sheen. Darkness fell over the dense forest, making its dead silence feel even deeper.
Lahtinen was on his knees behind the machine gun, keeping constant watch over the immediate terrain. The others were a bit further back, gathering around a pitiful excuse for a campfire. Sometimes the freezing temperature caused crackles up in the branches, and occasionally you could hear the low clink of metal as the guards moved the bolts on their guns to keep them operable. They could hear firing off to their left. A light machine gun sent a couple of rounds echoing through the icy forest several times over. The artillery fire had died down. All they heard was an occasional string of booms from the artillery battery and the whistling of shells overhead.
Lahtinen’s boots were frozen – as was his snowsuit, which rustled whenever he bent over. A louse bit his neck, but he didn’t bother to scratch it, as he couldn’t bring himself to pull his hand out of the warmth of his mitten.
The snow crust crackled in the forest. Lahtinen went rigid and listened closely. Then the sound came back. Somebody was trudging cautiously through the snowdrifts with carefully weighted steps.
Lahtinen’s heart started to thump. He sank down slowly onto his stomach and slipped his hands up into the grips. The sound continued, growing louder. Soon it was accompanied by the rustling of several legs, followed by the clanging of metal.
‘Hey,’ Lahtinen whispered to the infantry guy lying a little way off. ‘Enemy’s moving. Straight ahead.’
The man raised his head and whispered in a suffocated breath, choking with anxiety, ‘Yeah, I hear.’
Then he passed the word, ‘Alert. Neighbors ahead.’
Safeties clicked. The alert rippled down the line.
Lahtinen stared through the trees at the clearing and suddenly started. There was a man in a white snowsuit standing with a gun under his arm, scanning his surroundings. It was as if he had appeared like a ghost, and Lahtinen had no idea when he had arrived. Then another one appeared behind the juniper bushes, and the first beckoned to him with his hand. Lahtinen released the safety on the gun and set the thumb of his frozen mitten on the trigger. The man’s upper body rose above the sight.
Lahtinen breathed anxiously. Straining with tension, he waited for more enemy soldiers to come into view. He was only afraid that the infantry guys would start in too early with their rifles, as the men within eyeshot were clearly scouts, which meant that there were even more enemy soldiers not far behind. At the same time, he was in the grips of the perpetual fear of the machine-gunner: would the weapon work? The freezing temperatures had made some of its moving parts go stiff.
A bang sounded beside him, and Lahtinen nearly exploded with curses, but then he pressed the trigger. A great wave of relief rolled through him as the gun obediently began hammering out rounds. The man in front dropped into a heap like a collapsible pocket-knife. The fellow behind him tottered for a moment, as if deciding which way to fall, before dropping down on his side.
‘Positions!’ Lahtinen cried out hoarsely to the group of men behind him. There was no sense in whispering anymore. A few shots rang out from the forest, but the enemy was nowhere to be seen. Then the firing ceased and all they could hear was crunching snow.