Määttä, Salo and Sihvonen tossed some snow on their feeble campfire and hurried to the machine gun. Behind them, the guys from the infantry platoon did the same.
‘What’s over there?’ Sihvonen asked, when they had reached Lahtinen. The latter was scanning the ground out in front of him and didn’t respond. The machine gun gave off a sizzling noise. The hot grease hissed against the metal, which even in the midst of all the excitement reminded Lahtinen of an old omen his mother had always talked about when their stove made that sizzling noise. Supposedly it was a sign of death.
Maybe Lahtinen’s fear manifested itself in his recollection of this sinister omen. Nevertheless, he refused to wallow in the fear the memory brought on and turned to Sihvonen with a blank stare, replying with his usual crotchetiness, ‘Well, whatta ya think? Now who could possibly be over there? Who might be shooting from that direction, now, you tell me.’
Sihvonen shut up, hurt at Lahtinen’s cutting reply. They scanned the terrain carefully, but didn’t catch so much as a glimpse of the enemy. Only the crackling of the snow led them to the conclusion that the enemy must be regrouping for an attack.
The Ensign showed up on their right just as his deputy platoon leader turned up on the left. The Ensign endeavored to keep his voice calm and businesslike, but was unable to conceal his anxiety as he said, ‘There’s even more rustling over on the right. I think we’re up against some stiff opposition. This isn’t a question of a few scouts.’
The deputy didn’t even try to mask his uneasiness, but declared grimly, ‘Nope, definitely not a question of scouts. The forest’s rustling way past our furthest positions, and someone’s giving orders over there in front of the fourth squad.’
‘Can’t you stretch out the line?’
‘How the hell am I supposed to stretch out the line when the men can barely shout to one another as it is?’
The Ensign lost his temper and snapped, ‘You’ve got to spread it out! Put a light machine gun at the head. And tell the leader of the fourth squad to keep a special eye out on his flank…’
‘I’ve already put a light machine gun out there. But it’s not going to be much help. Its shooting range is fifty yards.’
The Ensign didn’t say anything. He’d been dreading a situation like this the whole time they’d been at war. Death on one side, and Major Sarastie’s withering glance on the other, accompanied by the emphatically declarative question, ‘And so you had to turn tail. Well, what the hell have they got over there?’
Then some sympathetic friend would feel awkwardly obliged to console him, ‘That kind of thing can happen to anyone.’
The Ensign lived in perpetual fear of finding himself in a situation in which everything would rest on his shoulders alone. Would he be man enough to hold his ground as an example to his men, to maintain discipline if they began to falter?
He would have to be. Such an encounter with the Major could not come to pass. They’d hold the positions, and if there was no other alternative, then let the end come. The Ensign took a deep and decisive breath of air, filling his lungs far below his heart and saying in a voice full of strength and assurance, ‘Here we stand and here we stay. There’s no alternative. The battalion is in combat and we are responsible for protecting its flank.’
Lahtinen hissed back at them, ‘Shut up back there! Listen! There’s a hell of a lot of chattering going on across the way.’
The Ensign fell silent and they listened. Low voices came from out in front of them, mixed with the crunching of snow. Lahtinen glared at the Ensign and said accusingly, ‘I mean, it’s none of my business, but it seems like we might want to start doing something here. That’s not just one company back there, guys. If there’s anything that’s clear around here, it’s that we’re in for it. You’d better send a runner to request help. And he’d better tell ’em straight out that a troop of guys who are already half-dead isn’t gonna cut it.’
‘I already sent word,’ the Ensign replied, ‘but I didn’t request the reinforcements, because there aren’t any.’
‘I see. Well, that’s a different story.’ Lahtinen resumed scanning the foreground with a scowl on his face.
The Ensign and his sergeant turned back to one another. After a brief consultation, they decided to send another runner to update the battalion on the situation. ‘Tell them we can’t be responsible for holding the line if we don’t get help.’
The man set off, happy and relieved, and the others gazed enviously after him. There goes one guy who’s getting out of this alive.
The gravity of the situation prompted the Ensign to take on a collegial tone as he said to the Sergeant, ‘Well, do what you can over there. They can’t fly away in these deep drifts, either.’
The Sergeant turned to leave, tossing his rifle over his shoulder and calling back with a sort of bitter, hopeless defiance, ‘Snowdrifts aren’t gonna stop ’em. Well, so long, then. See you on the other side.’
It was nearing five o’clock. The snowdrifts gleamed ever bluer as the forest settled into dusk, and the last, cold strains of the clear, winter daylight faded away. The glimmering snow helped the light linger a little, but in the groves and thickets, dusk had already gained the upper hand.
Commands rang out from the enemy side. Lahtinen scowled at his companions. Anxious and frightened as he was, he was overcome with a sort of hopeless, malicious glee, as if he were reveling in the fact that, now, things were as bad as they could possibly be. As the others stared silently into the forest, Lahtinen thought he would remind them just how bad a fix they were really in, and said, ‘We’re toast. Just so you know.’
No one responded. Only Määttä slowly stretched out an ammo belt, and Lahtinen took the silence to mean that the men still didn’t realize or recognize how hopeless the situation was. So, he dutifully resumed his missionary efforts. ‘So now we fight in the name of our faith and family. Humph. Gotta earn those wood crosses they’re gonna stick up on top of our graves.’
No answer. Salo released the safety on his gun. Lahtinen was losing his patience. What the hell was going on? Why didn’t these guys realize how hopeless their position was?
‘If we have to hightail it out of here, the machine guns better not get left behind. Just so you know.’
‘I’ll take the gun-stand,’ Määttä said quickly, with deliberate nonchalance. He may have sensed that, in his fear, Lahtinen was lashing out, paying them back for all the laughs they’d had at his expense. But the hopeless, malicious glee fell from Lahtinen’s voice and he grew frank and businesslike as he issued the men with their instructions. ‘Määttä and I shoot the machine gun. You guys cut down everything you can with those rifles. And remember now, every round’s gotta strike. Aim for the belly, that’s the way to take a guy out of the game. Aim for one that’s closest and take ’em down in turn. And don’t shoot blind. What I mean is, every time you shoot, shoot to kill.’
‘Uraaaa… aaa… aaraa… uraa… raaa…’
The men drew in their breath. Every nerve was on edge as their bodies prepared to give their all in carrying out their minds’ orders. The cold had evaporated, banished by their over-excited bodies and anxious breath. It was the most stirring moment of battle, a silence charged with excitement that suddenly erupts into a clattering crash. It was as if the first shot startled tens and hundreds of fingers into pulling their triggers, so that for one moment, all the weapons cracked in unison before their fire petered out into its various forms.