The Winter War

by William Durbin

  “If the tanks get over that rise, they'll be no stopping them.”The lieutenant turned to Kerola. “Send two platoons and the antitank squad to head them off.”Then he spoke to Niilo. “Report back once the men are in position, and I'll call in mortar support.”

  As Kerola and Niilo ran out of the trench, Juhola picked up the phone and cranked the handle. “It's dead!”He swore.”Company One is standing by to direct mortar fire for us.”

  He cranked the phone again. Nothing. “Where is that signals man? He went out at dawn to check the line.”

  Marko looked at the dead phone and felt a chill. He thought back to the first day of the war. “We'll go,” he said.

  “What?” the lieutenant asked.

  “We'll check the line,” Marko said.

  “No,”Juhola said. “I promised your mother—”

  “You need everyone else to defend the hill,” Marko said. “Karl and I can look out for each other.”

  “Right!” Karl said.

  The lieutenant studied the approaching tank column. Finnish snipers had dropped a few of the snowshoers, but other men had taken their places. The cannon fire kept the Finns pinned down.

  “Very well.” He handed a small roll of wire and some tape to Marko. “All you'll need is this and your knife.” He took off his holster and pistol and handed it to Karl. “Just in case.”

  Staying low, Marko and Karl ran out of the exit trench, put on their skis, and started down the trail. Marko kept an eye on the wire, and at the same time he watched for Russian soldiers, though he knew one pistol wouldn't help if they met an enemy patrol. There was a good chance that the Russians who'd cut the line would be waiting to ambush the repair crew.

  As Marko skied down the second ridge and rounded a corner, he stopped. The twisted body of the signals man lay beside the trail. He whispered to Karl, “Do you know how to use that pistol?”

  “I've only shot a rifle,” Karl said, pulling the gun from the holster and handing it to Marko.

  Marko set his poles down and skied forward slowly, keeping the pistol ready and eyeing the forest on both sides. Just before he reached the fallen man, he saw a movement to his left. Karl gasped when Marko turned and aimed at the woods. Marko was about to squeeze the trigger when a Siberian jay flashed its orange belly and flew from a tree.

  “Whoa!” Karl said.

  Marko tried to steady himself as he looked at the bulging eyes of the fallen signals man. The fellow had been shot through the chest, and a section of wire had been tied around his neck.

  Marko avoided the man's face as he dropped to one knee and went to work fixing the line. The whole time Marko shaved the insulation from the broken wires, he imagined a Russian sniper aiming at the back of his head. His hands shook so much that he slipped and cut his thumb. After Marko had twisted the wires together, Karl wrapped a turn of tape around each splice.

  Marko and Karl were only halfway back to Horseshoe Hill when a mortar fired. The phone was working! Company One was blasting away. By the time they reached the command trench, Niilo was reporting to the lieutenant, “Those rounds slowed the Russkies enough for our boys to pepper them good.”

  Juhola turned to Marko and Karl. “Excellent, excellent work, gentlemen.”

  Niilo clapped both boys on the back.”You'll have to tell us the whole story.”

  Machine guns fired to the north, followed by an explosion. “That sounds sweeter than Sibelius,” Juhola said.

  Sibelius' name reminded Marko of the music he and Johan had found in the old hermit's shack. How strange to think of that now. Marko took off his mitt to check his cut thumb.

  The lieutenant smiled. “Now that you've been wounded in action we'll have to put you in for a medal.”

  CHAPTER 24

  A FROZEN HELL

  On the sixteenth of January the temperature dropped to the coldest so far—forty-seven below zero.

  But the weather didn't slow down the Finns, who stuck to the lieutenant's plan of mixing periods of rest with rapid action. After naps in their tents, they used small groups of skiers to mount night raids against the Russians. The quick attack-and-retreat tactics kept the Red Army off balance.

  One afternoon Kerola said, “There's more good news in the newspaper. The novelist Selma Lagerlöf donated her Swedish Academy medal and her Nobel Prize to a Finnish aid group.”

  Somebody hollered,”Mail call!”outside the tent. But it was only Kekko. He walked up to Marko.”When I saw this package with your name, I thought I'd do a good deed and bring it over.”

  “How nice of you,” Marko said.

  Kekko smiled. “What sort of treats do you think Mother sent us this time?”

  “Us?” Marko pulled out the letter but ignored the package.

  “I was thinking you might be willing to share with a buddy who was kind enough to lug this heavy parcel over here. Need some help with that string?”

  Mother had sent two loaves of rye bread and a dozen apples.

  “Apples! A fine treat on a winter's day,” Kekko said.

  “And I'll bet an apple and fresh bread is even better.” Marko sawed off a piece of rye and handed it to Kekko.

  Before he tasted an apple, Karl said, “Suppose we could share one with our Russian friends?”

  Marko smiled.”Joseph and Cheslav would love that.”

  “Don't waste 'em on horses!”Kekko's mouth was full.

  “It won't hurt to split one between them,” Marko said.

  Karl looked at the letter. “Any word on Jari and Nina?”

  On January 17 the temperature hit fifty-six below zero.

  That afternoon Kerola put Marko and Karl to work splitting firewood. “At least it's not windy,” Karl said, pounding his mitts together to warm his hands as he handed Marko the axe.

  “If there was a wind, I'd risk a court-martial by telling Kerola to split his own wood.” Marko's voice was muffled by his woolen face mask, and his eyelashes were crusted with ice.

  When Karl laughed, his breath froze on his scarf.” At least we don't have to ski today.”

  “We wouldn't glide at all.” Marko scrunched his boot down to test the snow. “I keep thinking how I used to complain about the heat in our forge. Standing by those coals—”

  “Would feel so good right now!”Karl said.

  “It shouldn't be this cold with St. Henry's Day only two days off,” Marko said. St. Henry's Day celebrated the life of a bishop who was martyred on a midwinter mission to Finland.

  Karl nodded. “My father used to tell us to stand behind the barn on St. Henry's Day and listen hard. If we heard a bear roll over in his den, that meant winter was half over.”

  “On the evening of St. Henry's Day the kids in Virtalinna used to race down the street shaking bells and banging sticks on houses to break the back of winter,” Marko said.”Johan had a drum that he'd pound on as we ran.”

  “It's going to take more than a stick to break this cold.”

  As Marko hefted the axe, Karl said, “Let's pretend every block of wood is the back of winter—give it a good crack.”

  * * *

  When Marko returned to the tent, he needed to put salve on his sore leg. Marko hadn't let Juho or Seppo see his brace since the first day, but the cold hurt so much that he didn't care.

  Neither man said anything as Marko unbuckled his brace. For a moment he thought they were going to leave him alone. But when he reached for the homemade salve Mother had sent him for Christmas, Seppo said,”Does our mechanical man need oiling?”

  “Baby oil,”Juho said.

  Marko slid his long underwear up and rubbed on the salve. The odor of pine tar and honey filled the tent.

  Seppo blinked and sniffed. “Perfume.”

  Karl said, “If that's too sweet for you, why don't you go suck on one of those smelly foot rags?” He pointed at the clothesline above the stove.

  Marko grinned. That was the sort of thing that Johan would have said.

  “Listen, pup …” Juho stepped towar
d Karl, but the lieutenant bent down and picked up Marko's jar.

  “Homemade?” he asked.

  Marko nodded. “The secret ingredient is honey.”

  “Can I use some on my shoulder?”

  The next day the Russians staged a surprise attack. Three tanks sped toward the Finnish trenches with infantrymen running behind.

  “More scrap iron heading our way,” Hoot Hauta said as he left the command trench to check the position of his squad.

  “Why didn't they shell us first?” Kerola asked.

  The lieutenant said, “Their artillery must be frozen up.”

  The tanks started firing their cannons and machine guns from long range, but the Finns held their fire.

  The tanks roared across a frozen ditch, bumping up and down and spinning their tracks wildly. The Russian infantrymen in their brown greatcoats gave out a brave “Urra!” as they struggled to charge through the deep snow.

  When the enemy had almost reached the Finnish trenches, Hoot ran toward the first tank, followed by Joki and the scarecrow outline of Kekko.

  Hoot lifted up a log and was about to shove it into the tank treads when something exploded beside him. The whole squad dove into the snow.

  The other squad members jumped up, but Hoot lay still. Kekko ducked behind the tank and threw a Molotov cocktail onto the rear deck. Flames shot out, and the tank veered left and stopped. The hatch flew open, and black smoke poured out as soldiers leapt to the ground, their backs and legs on fire. Machine guns greeted them.

  Marko held his breath and stared at the place where Hoot had fallen. Suddenly Hoot wobbled to his feet. But instead of dodging his way back to the trenches, he swayed like a drunk.

  Kekko was running toward Hoot when the Russian infantry opened up. Bullets ripped into Hoot's uniform. “No!” Karl shouted. Hoot's body jerked violently as more bullets hit.

  Marko closed his eyes as Hoot fell into the snow.

  The medics couldn't reach Hoot until after the Russians fell back. It was dark by then. Their faces were grim as they pulled the sled past the command trench.

  The lieutenant asked, “Is he bad?”

  A medic said,”He took three bullets.”

  Hoot's eyes were closed, his face covered with frost. His hands were so cold they had turned blue—blue like the dead boy Marko had seen on his way to the front that first day. Not Hoot.

  After the medics started up the hill, Karl took off his mitt and wiped the tears from his eyes.

  As soon as Karl and Marko finished their duty, they ran to check on Hoot.

  “How is he?” Marko asked the head medic as they rushed in.

  “I'm sorry,” the medic said. He pointed to a table in the corner where a body lay, draped by a sheet.

  “I can't believe it,” Karl said.

  “Of all the men … why him?” Marko fought back his tears.

  The medic said, “I never would have picked him to go down, either. And he was our only casualty today.”

  A man from the soup cannon walked in with a coffeepot.”Would you fellows care for a cup of coffee?”

  Before anyone could answer, a voice behind Marko said, “Coffee.”

  Marko and Karl turned. Hoot's big hand reached out from under the sheet and pulled it off his face. Karl squealed and jumped backward. Marko's heart stopped.

  “My Lord!” The medic walked over to Hoot. “Do you know you've got three holes in your chest?”

  “I was pretty numb. A grenade knocked me flat.”

  Marko was amazed at how easily Hoot talked.

  “You didn't have a pulse when they brought you in here!”The medic opened Hoot's shirt. “I was about to send you to the cooling tent. You must have been all frozen up. The wounds have started to bleed now.”

  “Am I leaking?” Hoot asked.

  “Just a little. You can thank the cold for saving you from bleeding to death.”

  “I like winter,” Hoot said. “Better patch these holes or …”His head dropped back.

  “Bring me my sewing kit,” the medic told his assistant.

  Marko and Karl stared.”Will he be all right?”Marko asked.

  The medic touched Hoot's wrist. “His pulse is strong. His color looks good. He just might pull through.”

  “I knew he was too tough to die!” Karl said.

  “It'll take more than a few bullets to do Hoot in.” Marko punched Karl's shoulder.

  CHAPTER 25

  THE NAKED TRUTH

  “Ain't it nice not to have to shovel down our spuds before they freeze to our mess kits?”Niilo said. It was the first week in February, and the sunlight was increasing every day. Today the temperature had warmed to twelve below zero.

  “Feels like summer.” Seppo stretched. The men were on the east side of Horseshoe Hill, looking out over a snow-covered field as they ate their lunch.

  “I wonder where Joki and Kekko are,” Karl said.

  “Kekko's always first in line at mealtime,” Marko said.

  “Wiring a few more booby traps on the road,”Juho told them.

  Niilo turned. “Ain't that Joki and Kekko right there?”

  Marko looked down the ridge. Two men were skiing hard toward them.

  “I've never seen them move that fast.” Juho stood up.

  “Why don't they have whiteovers on?”Seppo asked.

  “Whiteovers nothing.” Juho stared. “Those boys is plumb naked.”

  Everyone burst out laughing, except for Karl, who looked down at his food.

  Marko couldn't believe his eyes as he watched Joki and Kekko race up the hill. They were wearing nothing but their boots and dog tags. Kekko's hair was standing straight up, and his dog tags were bouncing off his skinny white chest. Both men were red-faced and puffing and looked as if their knees were about to buckle. Marko laughed so hard that he almost choked on a piece of hardtack.

  “Those two will try anything for a laugh,” Niilo said.

  Then Marko noticed that Karl wasn't the only one not laughing. The lieutenant had stepped to one side and was peering past the skiers. He turned to Juho. “I don't like the look—”

  A bullet whizzed over Juho's head and smacked into a tree.

  “Your rifle, Juho!”the lieutenant said, pulling out his pistol and running to the edge of the woods.

  Juho and Seppo grabbed their rifles and followed. More bullets clipped bark off the tree above Marko's head.

  The lieutenant yelled,”Down!” to the skiers, as Juho and Seppo leveled their rifles. Joki and Kekko both dropped.

  Another shot cracked below.

  Juho and Seppo fired several quick rounds. Then it was quiet. Juho looked up from his sights. “I think we got 'em.”

  “Good work,” the lieutenant said. Then he turned to Kerola. “Organize a patrol and see what's going on out there. If those snipers were forward observers, we've got to find out how big their main force is.”

  Meanwhile, Joki and Kekko got back on their feet and skied up the slope. Marko was shocked at the sight of them. They were flushed from their sprint, and branches had cut their faces and arms. Kekko had a piece of a cedar bough tangled in his left bootlace, and Joki's shoulder was bleeding.

  “Just what is going on?” the lieutenant said.

  “We got caught,”Joki said.

  “Doing what?”

  “Taking a sauna,” Joki said.

  “A sauna!”the lieutenant exclaimed.

  “We're real sorry, Lieutenant,” Kekko said. Instead of making an odd face the way he usually did, he looked stunned.

  “It was a big mistake,” Joki admitted. “After we finished setting those trip wires, we ran across an old sauna.”

  “You started a fire in broad daylight?” the lieutenant said.

  “We hadn't seen hide nor hair of the Russkies for so long, we figured it wouldn't hurt none,”Joki said. “We'd just heated her up when bullets started flying. We stepped out to look. Our clothes was inside. We never thought—”

  “Thinking is something
that you utterly failed to do.” The lieutenant was angrier than Marko had ever seen him.

  “We didn't mean no harm,” Kekko said.

  “Go clean up,”the lieutenant said. Then he turned to Kerola. “We'd better contact HQ.” Marko and Karl followed the officers down to the command trench.

  When the lieutenant hung up the phone, his lips were tight. He turned to Kerola. “HQ just got a confirmation. A fully armored Russian regiment is coming from the east to relieve the forces that we've had trapped in the valley. Let's hope those snipers didn't get back to them with our coordinates.”

  Marko felt his stomach tighten.

  “What are our alternatives, sir?” Kerola couldn't hide the quavering in his voice.

  “I suggested that we ski out in a wide circle tonight and use another motti maneuver to split the Russian force and surround them, but the major doesn't want us to risk an advance strike. He's afraid we might get trapped between the regiments.”

  “So we retreat?” Kerola sounded relieved.

  “I don't like that word. But he ordered us to pull back to the main ridge immediately. We'd better get started. The more time we have to shore up our defenses, the better chance we'll have of standing firm.”

  * * *

  The next four days were frantic. Working day and night, the soldiers hauled supplies and equipment, re-erected the tents, set up a field kitchen, moved the horses, and built a stable.

  Both of the Russian horses did their part pulling loaded sleds. Joseph always nickered when he saw Karl and nuzzled his hand, expecting a carrot or a pat. Sometimes the big horse laid his neck over Karl's shoulder and rested it there, staring into the distance as though he was dreaming about a warm barn back home.

  “That animal's a workhorse,” Joki scolded.”Don't be coddling him like some lapdog!”

  The worst job of all was digging new trenches in the frozen ground. Since Seppo and Juho were out spying on the approaching Russian regiment, Joki and Kekko were assigned to help Marko and Karl with the command trench.

  As Kekko scraped away the snow, he said, “A fellow working on a foxhole yesterday told me the frost is about a meter deep.”