The Reincarnationist Papers by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-02-18T23:23:37+00:00

as quickly as he had left, Vasili spotted Hoxa riding back into camp. He jumped off his horse, handing the reins to the soldier closest to him. His eyes were ablaze with excitement. “The other companies are ready,” he said, running up the riverbank behind the guns.

“Ready, sir? Ready for what?” asked the corporal.

“The reckoning,” the captain answered, pulling a worn map from his pocket.

“You’re not going to attack? I climbed up there. I saw them. There must be at least four-hundred men out there.”

“At least,” Hoxa said, getting even more excited.

“You can’t do that, Captain. It’s sui—”

The corporal was unable to finish his sentence before Hoxa whipped his revolver from its holster and pointed it at the end of his nose. “We are going to attack, by surprise, when the rain starts, and crush them in their tents. And anyone who has a problem with that order will hear the sound of this pistol.” The corporal’s eyes were locked on the end of the gun. “Now, everyone in their places. Start with high-explosive rounds, except for you,” he said, pointing to Vasili and the other three men that made up second squad. “You prepare five white phosphorous rounds. We’re going to target for the other two companies. They can’t see the bivouac, but they’ll sure as hell be able to see those shells exploding. We’ll wait until their fires almost die out, then when they’re asleep, we’ll annihilate them,” he commanded. Lightning began to flash, lighting up the open south end of the valley behind the French camp.

Vasili saw Captain Hoxa sitting astride the raised number three gun barrel. Hour after hour passed in silence. The air in the valley resonated with the claps of approaching thunder. Fat, cold raindrops began to spatter against the hard guns and dirty uniforms. Vasili could feel the level of apprehension in the camp rising along with his own every time that Hoxa made the slightest move. “Lower me,” Hoxa said. He grabbed the end of the barrel for support. “Somebody give me a handful of mud.” The members of the third crew looked at each other confused. “Mud. Somebody give me some mud.”

“I know what he wants,” the breech operator of Vasili’s second squad said. He jogged down to the riverbank and brought back two handfuls of wet clay mud. Hoxa reached down from his perch and took a small amount with his fingertips. He shaped it into a thumb-sized roll, broke it in two, and inserted the mud plugs into his ears. Everyone else immediately imitated the captain.

“Raise me,” commanded Hoxa.

The breech operator cranked slowly on the control that gently elevated the barrel.

“Second squad, raise to twenty-three degrees and load!” Hoxa barked.

Vasili handed a white phosphorus round to the loader, who carefully inserted it up into the open orifice at the back of the barrel. He withdrew his hand and the breech operator closed and locked the four-inch-thick, round breech door. The trigger man wrapped the cord around his hand twice to take the slack out.

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