Rules for Old Men Waiting by Peter Pouncey

Author:Peter Pouncey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
ISBN: 9780307431721
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2007-12-17T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 9

Going Down in the Mud (Part 2)

MacIver had in memory conducted his son once more to his death, and was now sure what few further steps he and his story must take to reach a parallel end. The tartan rug wrapped like a sarong twice around his waist on top of the sweatpants, and the faded Wasps rugby cap down low over his eyes for the most focused view of the page, he advanced on his old machine and wrote:

Sergeant Braddis believed himself a lucky man, with an almost religious belief—that is, he had a steady conviction that whatever dark divinity presided over his destiny, it would provide him with the chances to do what he had to do. Right now, he knew he badly needed an offensive. So of course did his general HQ , so we should not assume that one sergeant unilaterally moved the stars in his favor. In fact, the high command on both sides, having maneuvered hundreds of thousands of men and tons of matériel into the thickest gridlock in history, knew they had to make a move now and again, to show their supporters that, if they could not dislodge it, they could still make some progress within it. To this end, thousands of men on both sides were routinely killed for the gain of a hundred yards or less between the lines, the change suddenly perceived from the map to offer crucial strategic advantages—a straighter line of communication and a shorter trench to defend, or a better surveillance point and gun mounting at the northern end of the line; whoever got the Pope’s Nose or Rudy’s Corner would be in a position to make large gains. Often the generals on the two sides saw as one on these matters, so crucial positions might be yielded and taken back more than once in the course of weeks.

The strategic niceties were not for Braddis; what he needed was some immediate action, of any kind at all, and on the day after Callum was given his picture back by Dodds, he got some. The previous afternoon the mysterious rumor mill had been working overtime, with subtly various reports that they would be going over the top for this or that purpose, but nothing developed. Mess kits prepared for the morrow with rations and water bottle in the pack, however, and early bed and Last Post meant they were wrong only about the time. And well before dawn, the great orchestral warm-up began, played only by percussion, as the big guns behind the British trenches started their concerted pounding, and had the men up and readying themselves. Wherever they were going, they would advance, at least in theory, safely behind the steel curtain of large-shelled detonations moving ahead of them, forcing the enemy to keep its head down in its deepest bunkers. From the fire-step you could see the tall white, orange, and black plumes soar up, a seething but shapely instant forest-screen of destruction, compounded of mud, smoke, metal, and explosive chemicals.

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