Four Soldiers

by Hubert Mingarelli

  Now we weren’t so short of food, it was tobacco that he asked for in return.

  To start with, the hands he sculpted were quite pretty. But they were so delicate that, when the men slept with them, they broke, and then the men yelled at Yassov. That was why Yassov was sculpting more solid hands now. But the problem was they looked like men’s hands. Even Kyabine’s hands weren’t as big as those wooden hands. No one could possibly have wanted a fiancée with hands like that.

  We continued walking and we smelled the pond before we saw it.

  We had been very lucky to discover this pond. We’d already spent a lot of time there since coming out of the forest. For the moment, we were the only ones who went there. But we lived in constant fear that other men from the company would discover it. If that happened we’d probably have to fight them, because we had no intention of sharing our pond.

  Kyabine and Pavel waded into the water up to their knees. Sifra and I stayed on the bank. We didn’t like swimming. Sifra lay on his back and looked up at the sky. I watched Pavel and Kyabine as they went in up to their waists. Around them the water had grown muddy. Kyabine tried to make the water clear again by stirring it with his hands. Pavel moved away from him. He crouched down and now all I saw was his head sticking out of the water.

  Pavel and Kyabine went swimming while Sifra fell asleep next to me. This was a precious place. Because we didn’t know where we would be tomorrow. We had come out of the forest, the winter was over, but we didn’t know how much time we would stay here, nor where we would have to go next. The war wasn’t over, but as usual we didn’t know anything about the army’s operations. It was better not to think about it. We could already count ourselves lucky to have found this pond.

  When Pavel and Kyabine returned to the bank they were covered in mud. They sat down and waited for the sun to dry them before they got dressed again.

  We would have liked to shoot our rifles at the water, but as we wanted to keep the pond a secret we knew it was best not to make too much noise. That would have attracted the attention of the rest of the company.

  Pavel and Kyabine stood up and rubbed themselves. The mud had dried now and it fell off them like dust.

  5

  WE TOOK THE same path back. When we reached the pile of sleepers, Pavel and I picked one up and slung it across our shoulders. Pavel walked in front and I walked behind. Kyabine and Sifra took one too and we all walked back to the camp.

  Kyabine and Sifra walked ahead. Suddenly, Pavel and I started running. We passed them. We heard Kyabine shouting: ‘Sifra! Sifra!’

  The sleeper was cutting into our shoulders but we kept running. Soon we heard the ragged breathing of Kyabine and Sifra just behind us. They were getting closer. Just as they were about to overtake us, Pavel and I moved to opposite sides of the path, so our sleeper blocked their way. But they found a way around this. They left the path and now they were running alongside us in the grass field. We stared at each other, eyes bulging from the effort. The sleepers were weighing ever more heavily on our shoulders. For an instant we were equal, running at the same speed. Then Kyabine and Sifra sneaked ahead. But Kyabine put his foot in a hole. He collapsed and we had time to see their sleeper flying over Kyabine’s head. We slowed down now because we were sure of our victory. We lifted up the sleeper to give our shoulders a rest.

  But suddenly Kyabine surged past us on our right. He was carrying the sleeper on his own, still running in the field. His mouth was wide open and he was staring straight ahead, his expression serious and tense. He hadn’t given up. Pavel and I started to run again, but not too fast, just fast enough to stay alongside Kyabine, and to taunt him. His face was a picture of pain. While it was true he was the biggest and strongest of us all, running while carrying a sleeper single-handed was too tough: he stood no chance. He slowed down and finally he threw the sleeper on the ground and came to a halt.

  We had won.

  6

  AS I’VE SAID, the camp was situated at the edge of a pine wood. At the end of the winter when we were still living in huts, we’d all been ordered to make tents. We used the tarpaulin that we’d stolen from the factory in Galicia to make ours. It was spacious and there was enough height at the centre for us to stand upright. Pavel had made a tent pole from a tree branch, taking care to keep the beginnings of the secondary branches. That was pretty clever too, because we could use them to hang up our rifles. They were always dry and within easy reach, and they didn’t bother us while we were sleeping.

  We dropped the railway sleepers outside the tent. Pavel left for the camp with Kyabine. They returned with a wooden crate that we placed upside down between the sleepers so we could play dice.

  Kyabine had got another bit of tobacco from Sifra.

  He managed to roll half a dozen thin cigarettes. He lit one and, instead of keeping the rest, put them on top of the wooden crate. He wanted to gamble them at dice against Pavel. ‘I’m going to clean you out,’ he boasted.

  Pavel replied: ‘Play!’

  Kyabine threw the dice, repeating: ‘I’m going to clean you out, Pavel.’

  Pavel picked up the dice and, looking at the cigarette that dangled between Kyabine’s lips, said: ‘Good idea to smoke that one.’

  ‘What?’ said Kyabine.

  Pavel didn’t respond. He threw the dice on the crate.

  ‘Hey!’ said Kyabine. ‘Why did you say that, Pavel?’

  Then suddenly he understood. Shaking his head, he answered: ‘No, Pavel, I’m going to clean you out.’

  ‘Play, Kyabine!’ said Pavel.

  7

  DUSK FELL AND there were no more cigarettes on the crate in front of Kyabine. They had all gone over to Pavel’s side and now he had taken out his cigarette case and was putting them inside. Kyabine did not look at anyone, least of all Sifra, who had given him the tobacco he’d just lost. Kyabine stared at the top of the wooden crate and looked very surprised.

  Pavel put his cigarette case back in his pocket and said to Kyabine: ‘You simply didn’t deserve to win.’

  Kyabine looked at Pavel. ‘What?’

  And Pavel repeated: ‘You didn’t deserve to win.’

  Kyabine was nonplussed. He didn’t understand what Pavel was getting at. Neither did Sifra or I. Pavel was obviously taking the piss out of Kyabine. We just hadn’t yet understood in what way he was taking the piss out of him. In a grave voice, Pavel asked him: ‘Have you done one single good thing today to deserve to win?’

  ‘I don’t know, Pavel,’ Kyabine replied. ‘I don’t know.’

  Pavel continued to stare at him gravely while Kyabine thought about this. Suddenly he asked: ‘What about you, Pavel? Have you done something good today?’

  Pavel replied: ‘It’s difficult to talk about the good things you’ve done.’

  ‘At least tell me one good thing,’ said Kyabine.

  But Pavel remained silent. Now Kyabine stared at him entreatingly. Sifra and I, too, were curious to find out about Pavel’s good deeds. Thankfully we managed to remain serious. Suddenly Pavel said: ‘This morning I pissed on a swarm of ants that were trying to eat a caterpillar.’

  Kyabine looked at me and Sifra, then he looked at Pavel and he said: ‘Huh? What?’

  ‘What do you think, Kyabine? Could the caterpillar defend itself?’

  Now Kyabine stared questioningly at me and Sifra.

  Pavel explained: ‘It was a nice fat caterpillar and it was wriggling around trying to escape those little bastards. So I thought to myself: Pavel, it’s time to do a good deed.’

  Kyabine slapped his hand on the wooden crate and said: ‘I reckon you’re having us on.’

  Pavel did not reply.

  ‘Yeah, you’re having us on,’ Kyabine said. ‘You shouldn’t do that to me.’

  As Pavel still didn’t say anything, Kyabine demanded: ‘Give me some proof!’

  Pavel took out his cigarette case and opened it. It was full of cigarettes, some of them the ones he had won from Kyabine. ‘This is
proof, don’t you think?’ he said.

  ‘No, that’s not proof,’ Kyabine replied.

  Pavel picked up a cigarette, put the case back in his pocket, lit the cigarette, and said: ‘I told you one of my good deeds, Kyabine. Now piss off!’

  Kyabine just sat there brooding.

  8

  SOON AFTER THIS, as it was his turn, Kyabine went to fetch dinner.

  He came back and we ate outside the tent in silence. The oil lamp was on top of the crate and it illuminated our faces. We were very comfortable. It had been a brilliant idea to bring the sleepers here. Whatever we did – playing dice or eating meals – there they were, right in front of the tent. If they hadn’t been so heavy, we would have taken them everywhere with us.

  Kyabine stopped eating. ‘Sifra!’

  ‘Yes, Kyabine.’

  ‘Do you believe that story about Pavel’s caterpillar?’

  Sifra looked embarrassed. He waited before replying. He liked Kyabine, he liked him a lot. Pavel and I liked him too, of course, but we also liked taking the piss out of him. Sifra was more considerate towards him.

  In a kind voice, he answered: ‘I don’t know, Kyabine.’

  Kyabine didn’t dare ask me what I thought. Anyway, he knew that I would back Pavel up. He started eating again and suddenly he said: ‘I think you talk a lot of crap, Pavel!’

  Pavel didn’t reply.

  ‘Yes, Pavel, yes, you talk so much crap!’ Kyabine said.

  Pavel stopped eating. He picked up his cigarette case, opened it and took out a cigarette, which he handed to Kyabine. Kyabine took it from him and put it on the crate in front of him. He thought for a bit and then he asked: ‘Why did you give me that?’

  ‘So you’ll stop giving me shit.’

  Kyabine started to laugh. He looked at the cigarette and said: ‘If that’s how it works, I’m going to keep giving you shit.’

  He was very pleased with himself for being so clever. He looked up at the sky. Then, after a while, he leaned towards Pavel and, to put his cleverness into practice, said to him: ‘You talk so much crap, Pavel, that no one believes you any more. You think you’re conning me, Pavel, but you’re not. Not at all. I don’t believe a word of the crap you spout. For a start, show me where you pissed on the ants!’

  Pavel calmly picked up his cigarette case, took out a cigarette and placed it in front of Kyabine. Kyabine sat there frozen. He didn’t say another word. He hadn’t really expected his cleverness to work. What I mean is, he hadn’t actually believed that Pavel would give him another cigarette so he would stop giving Pavel shit. He stared at Pavel in surprise.

  We could now feel the warmth from the fires that the company had lit outside the tents. The woodsmoke drifted over to us. It was good to smoke a cigarette with that smell in the air.

  Kyabine, taking a drag on his, continued to stare at Pavel with that surprised look on his face.

  9

  THE AIR GREW damp and we went inside the tent. We lay down under our blankets. We spread our coats on top of them because it still got cold at night. The blankets were dirty and Sifra, in his soft woman’s voice, suggested we wash them in the pond tomorrow. We all agreed.

  Kyabine said: ‘If you want, Sifra, I’ll wash yours.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘To pay you back for the tobacco.’

  Sifra said in a kind voice, as if he was asking him for a favour: ‘I’d rather you gave it back to me, Kyabine.’

  Abruptly, Pavel sat up and asked: ‘Who’s got the watch?’

  I remembered that I had it. I passed it to Pavel because it was his turn to sleep with it. Not for the watch itself, since the mechanism was broken, but for the photograph of a woman that was inside it. It was nice to sleep with that photograph. We imagined that it brought us luck. We didn’t know why. I reckon, deep down, we didn’t really believe it brought us luck. But we liked to think it did.

  Pavel, Kyabine and I took turns to sleep with it. But not Sifra. It was hard to understand why. None of us had ever asked him. And yet he was the one who’d taken the watch from the corpse of a cavalry officer in Galicia, along with the boots he was wearing. He wears the boots, I thought to myself, so why doesn’t he want to sleep with the photograph in the watch?

  One day Pavel said to me that Sifra had perhaps never slept with a woman, so sleeping with the photograph didn’t have any meaning for him. Maybe it was that. But I was sure that Kyabine had never slept with a woman either, and that didn’t stop him taking his turn with the photograph.

  I didn’t tell Pavel that I had never slept with a woman either.

  Pavel was probably the only one who had.

  10

  FOR A MOMENT after Pavel touched my arm, I didn’t really know what was going on or where I was. Pavel touched my arm again. Now I was awake. We put on our boots, picked up our coats and quietly slipped out of the tent.

  The fires were almost burned out. The embers glowed in the night. We put on our coats and left the camp. We walked in silence over to the pile of railway sleepers. From there we went into the field and headed towards the pond.

  Pavel crouched down by the edge of the water. I remained standing, as far away as possible. All the same I could hear him sobbing. Sometimes I also heard a faint noise on the surface of the pond. Last night there’d been the sound of the wind, which had drowned out all the other noises.

  We went out together every night, Pavel and I, and had done ever since we left the forest. Every night Pavel dreamed that Sifra cut his throat. It was a horrible dream. He woke up in terror. So he needed to get out of the tent and he needed me to go with him. We came here to the pond, or sometimes we stopped at the pile of sleepers. Occasionally, although it was rare, he wept like he was doing tonight, and then he felt better. Sometimes I thought to myself that it was probably in this way, for Pavel, that the winter in the forest continued to live inside him. But neither Pavel nor I understood why Sifra should be the killer in his dreams. Sifra was so gentle and sweet with us, he was such a good comrade.

  If it was me who cut his throat every night, I thought, I would be very unhappy. And then it probably wouldn’t be me who he needed to come with him to help him calm down.

  Pavel’s sobs died down.

  I remained standing and I looked at the surface of the pond. I would have liked to move closer to Pavel, but I thought it was better to wait until he wanted me to.

  I continued to wait, and it seemed to me that Pavel was hardly crying any more and that he now wanted me to go to him. He hadn’t made any sign, he hadn’t moved or anything, but I sensed that he wanted me with him now. So I went over and crouched down next to him.

  He took out his cigarette case, opened it and held it out to me. I took one and we smoked, almost peacefully, as we looked at the pond.

  Pavel wasn’t crying at all any more. He breathed the smoke out between his legs. We were nice and warm in our coats and I would have liked to find something to say to console him.

  On our way back Pavel took long strides through the grass. He’d opened his coat and it was flapping against his legs. I hadn’t thought of anything to say to him on the bank of the pond, and I had given up trying to find the right words.

  I just asked him: ‘You all right, Pavel?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  We reached the pile of sleepers in front of the train tracks and we turned onto the path that led to the camp. The night was still very dark. There was no moon and dawn was still a long way off.

  11

  WE HAD TO go on an expedition the next day. We knew about it, because they’d told us in advance, but we’d forgotten. Sergeant Ermakov came to fetch us at dawn. We got dressed and left the camp behind him, dragging our heels.

  We hoped we could find a farm quickly, so that we could come back before evening and go to the pond. We didn’t like these expeditions. Something bad always happened.

  I walked next to Pavel. Nothing on his face betrayed the terrible fear he’d felt during the night. Pavel and I nev
er talked about any of it in the daytime, about his nightmares or our nocturnal outings. I think it was better that way. Though of course, if he’d wanted to talk about it, I would have listened.

  Kyabine and Sifra knew nothing about Pavel’s nightmares. Perhaps one or the other might have heard us get up in the middle of the night, but they didn’t know why. I was the only one who knew and I felt proud of that.

  We walked for an hour.

  Sergeant Ermakov remained ahead of us the whole time. He tore up stems of grass and chewed them as he walked.

  We saw smoke in the distance.

  We found a road and spotted a small village. Sergeant Ermakov made us toss away our cigarettes and button up our coats. But below our coats were the German boots worn by Pavel and me, Kyabine’s big civilian shoes, and Sifra’s cavalry boots. Only our coats and our caps were regulation uniform.

  Sergeant Ermakov went into the courtyard of the first house. We waited for him on the road. We weren’t allowed to sit down or smoke. And we had to leave our rifles slung over our shoulders.

  Sergeant Ermakov knocked at the door, then at the window. A man came out into the courtyard. He was wearing a forest ranger’s uniform. They talked for a little while, then went over to the vegetable garden at the foot of the courtyard. The forest ranger started pulling up winter leeks. Sergeant Ermakov helped him by removing the earth that clung to their roots.

  The forest ranger looked cheerful as he pulled up the leeks. He knew he was getting off lightly. His garden was full of leeks.

  Behind me, Pavel muttered: ‘Hey, stick one of those leeks up Ermakov’s arse, would you?’

  Kyabine started silently laughing, mouth shut tight and shoulders shaking. The forest ranger and the sergeant went back up to the courtyard. The sergeant took out the requisition papers to fill out, but the forest ranger put his hands on the sergeant’s, as if to say: no need for a receipt, these leeks are a gift from me to you and the Red Army.