‘What for?’
‘You started a fight over there.’
‘Mm. Mhm… I see…’ Koskela ran his fingers through his hair, gave a grunt and fumbled idly with his backpack. Then his face resumed its customary, expressionless mien, and he asked, ‘Well, did they say anything about it? Did anybody get hurt?’
‘Naw, nothin’na worry ’bout over there. I hear the Second Company’s ensign was spittin’ blood, but it probably done that fella good.’
‘OK. Well, if that’s the worst that happened, it doesn’t matter much. Better take that vat back to Mäkilä. And start getting all this equipment into piles. We’re leaving right after we eat.’
Vanhala looked on inquisitively as Rahikainen lay down to sleep, and when it looked as though he might doze off without any confession at all, Vanhala finally asked, ‘So, you roll out your blanket?’
Rahikainen had been waiting for somebody to grant his return due attention, and now, smiling mysteriously, as if to make the whole thing more significant, he said, ‘Boys, I’m sleeping from now until it’s time to eat. Don’t wake me up before then! Oh, and I gave the other bottle to the guy standing guard, he traded me some Swedish crackers.’
Rahikainen pulled his blanket up over his head and fell asleep. The others started boiling up the coffee, reminiscing with rather half-hearted smiles about the previous day. Then, in the middle of everything, up rose the tent flap and in crawled Mäkilä.
‘Well, hello! C’mon in!’ Rokka called out. Mäkilä didn’t reply. His eyes went directly to the soup vat and stayed there as he cleared his throat.
‘You lookin’ for sumpin’?’ Rokka asked, looking at Mäkilä out of the corner of his eye.
‘Chuh. Who stole it?’
‘Nobody stole it,’ Hietanen said. ‘The guys found it over there next to the path.’
‘Chuh. Right next to the field kitchen. Chuh.’ Mäkilä inspected the vat. He refused to look anybody in the eye, and just kept coughing to himself, looking cross.
‘It’s dented.’
‘Well, I’ll be darned. So it is. But lissen here, don’t you worry. We’ll fix ’er right up. Sankia Priha the Great, gimme that piece a wood there.’
Rokka took the piece of wood and started banging the pot back into shape, as Mäkilä watched out of the corner of his eye, as if he were thinking, ‘Bang away! It’s not going to make it any better. It’s ruined.’
Koskela wondered for a long while whether he should say something. He felt it was his responsibility to offer some sort of explanation, but then, what was there to explain, really? Finally he asked, ‘You, uh, didn’t need it while it was missing, did you?’
Even Koskela was not going to be spared this time, regardless of his rank, position and whatever virtues he might possess. In Mäkilä’s scales, none of these carried much weight beside the offenses of drunkenness and theft on the front. He muttered angrily over his shoulder, ‘Chuh! Course not… Don’t need anything to transport food in if all you fellows need is beer.’
Koskela couldn’t help smiling as Mäkilä silently hoisted the vat onto his back and set off, dripping with disapproval. Hietanen chased after him, pleading, ‘Hey, gimme a few of those salted herring from the kitchen, wouldja? I need salt something awful.’
Mäkilä marched out in front, fuming silently, his vat bobbing about on his back. Hietanen lumbered along behind him, pulling at his waistband with one hand and scratching his head with the other. He kept up his campaign, undaunted by Mäkilä’s outraged silence. ‘Come on, you can spare a couple of herring. I’ll pay you back swell for ’em sometime, somehow or other. You oughtta at least help out an old friend.’
No answer. The vat just bobbed on, and Hietanen shifted into sentimental gear. ‘C’mon, wasn’t I the one who whispered you the answers about the moving parts of a machine gun back in NCO training? And I always let you off easy when it was my turn to be drill leader. You could at least pay me back for that with two or three herring. Or even five, really.’
There was some truth in Hietanen’s pitch. He was talking around the issue discreetly, though, as whispering in class was hardly a remarkable event. In actuality, Hietanen’s help had been of a more profound nature. Quiet and devout, Mäkilä had frequently fallen prey to the rowdier boys’ shenanigans, and a sharp command from the brawny, broad-shouldered Hietanen had shut up his tormentors more than once. It was for this reason that Mäkilä conceded to open his mouth. ‘That was a long time ago. And why should I go get you a salted herring for your hangover? I’m not a doctor. If you don’t feel good, go to the field hospital!’
‘C’mon, gimme a couple!’
‘Why don’t you go drink some more of your beer? That’ll get rid of your hangover.’
‘Well, there isn’t any left!’
‘Go steal another pot from somewhere and make it!’
‘You gonna be sore about that stupid pot till the cows come home?’
At that Mäkilä finally blew his top. ‘Stupid pot? What does one little pot matter? If I didn’t fight tooth and nail to hold onto stuff around here, you lot would take everything! I have to feed and clothe one hundred and fifty men with my bare hands. I’ve got one guy sitting all starched and spiffy in the office dugout, ordering people around, but as soon as anybody comes round sniffing for something, it’s heels together and aye aye, sir! Yes, sir! Yes, sir! Without so much as a thought of holding his ground! I’d take a foxhole out there on the front lines over this job any day! If I just sat around here sucking my thumb, everything would disappear in one fell swoop. First you get drunk, then you make a racket, then you start fighting, and now you come chasing after me for salted herring! But just let things heat up again, and then everybody’s got Our Father on the tip of his tongue.’
Hietanen was both irritated and extremely amused by this yoked creature in front of him with a vat bobbing about on his back. He knew which teat to tug to get the milk he wanted, though, so in a voice of pure seriousness and sympathy, he declared, ‘Well, look, you took the words right outta my mouth. I don’t lead that kind of sinful life at all. You sure got a tough gig, don’t I know it. Never a moment’s peace for you. You gotta watch this stuff like a hawk day and night. Look, I wouldn’t a taken the vat, but the other guys took it. What was I supposed to do, tell you? That would have put me on the outs with my own gang. Sure, I guess you can understand that. But come on now, gimme a couple of herring!’
Mäkilä didn’t reply, but Hietanen’s hopes rose, as he suspected this silence boded well for him. Mäkilä dilly-dallied in the kitchen, fiddling around over here, and then over there, while Hietanen sat on a rock, waiting impatiently. He wasn’t sure if he should keep pushing or not, as it could be that Mäkilä was stalling deliberately and that a renewed request would make him change his mind. Finally, Mäkilä went to the little dugout-like hole where he stored the rations. He returned a moment later with one miserable, measly herring dangling from his hand.
It was rare that Mäkilä gave handouts, so to him this occasion felt downright momentous. There was even a sort of chummy warmth in his voice as he said, ‘Make sure nobody sees you eat it. Otherwise I’ll have the whole lot of them after me. And don’t come asking for anything else for a little while.’
‘Cheers.’ Hietanen was annoyed at first. But then, he had to laugh at this pathetic little herring that looked as though it had died of starvation. He could imagine how very great the gift was in Mäkilä’s estimation though, so he tried to keep a straight face as he said, ‘Well, gee, this’ll last me a good half a year! Thanks so much, really, thanks a ton.’
Mäkilä stalled, fiddling awkwardly for a moment. He blushed with embarrassment, and after clearing his throat for a good while, said, ‘It’s not right for you to drink like that. We’re about to set out again. At four o’clock this morning they hit a dugout dead on over at the third emplacement. Couple of boys gone and three taken to the field hospital in pretty weak condition. Chuh… send-offs can be pretty quick. What condition will our souls be in when the time comes?’