Elmore Leonard - Tishomingo Blues

Dennis noticed men in the group beginning to stir and glance at one another. as John Rau, not sounding much like the CIB man, continued.

"I know you first- and second-timers are anxious to learn all you can about what it was like, have it in your head. I've often said an authentic attitude is more important than how regulation you are in your uniform. On this subject of salt pork I might mention that table salt is never used for curing because of the filler in it. You use kosher salt as your base and cut it with a sweetener. I prefer brown sugar myself, though you can use honey or molasses. To spice it up add onions, garlic and pepper. But the main ingredients, say for a hundred pounds of meat, would be eight pounds of kosher salt and two pounds of brown sugar. What the process does, of course, is thoroughly dry out the meat. Let it sit in a cool place-the reason farmers always butchered in the winter-for up to six weeks and you've got salt horse. I'll warn anyone who wants to try preparing it himself, it does make quite a mess as the moisture is drawn out."

Dennis, listening, thinking yeah, that was good to know, in case he ever lost his fuckin mind and felt the urge to make some. Jesus. Ask Vernice if he could use her kitchen. He saw some of the troopers in the back of the group starting to edge away and heard John Rau raise his voice.

"Men, eyes front. I'm not yet finished. We have a water barrel here, so you can keep your canteens filled. Also, you'll be interested to know, I ordered six hundred and fifty rations to feed a hundred men, my original estimate, and any stragglers who might come along. If this were a three- or four-day event and we took prisoners, we'd have rations for them, too. My projection now is that we'll have no more than seventy in our ranks, if that. I was hoping for as many as fifty of the First Iowa joining us, but it looks like only ten to fifteen will be able to make it. I'm expecting them at any time now. What it means, there will be at least three and a half extra rations per man." John Rau paused. "If I had said that to you at Brice's Cross Roads on June 9th, the eve of the battle, you know what you'd do? Give out a cheer, a spirited `Huzzah,' and throw your forage caps in the air. Anyway, you'll be able to eat your fill. You might see how inventive you can be with the rations. I've always liked my salt horse diced and put in a pot to boil with a potato. I've found that recipe works best when you're good and hungry."

Dennis tried to imagine pieces of pork fat cooking in a pot and remembered Robert asking him to lunch, brought from the hotel.

He looked up again to see the first sergeant handing John Rau a clipboard, Colonel Rau looking at it as he said, "I have the duty roster here. Anyone who hasn't been assigned, raise your hand."

Dennis, not knowing shit about duty rosters, raised his. In the next moment, as John Rau looked right at him, Dennis realized you never put your hand in the air.

"Private Lenahan," John Rau said, glancing at the roster again, "you'll be going on picket duty."

Dennis said, "Sir, I'm a corporal," hoping that would get him out of it.

John Rau said, "Is that right?" and took time to study him. "Tell me how you achieved your stripes?"

It was in Dennis' mind to say, The same way you made colonel. But he didn't. He said, "Sir, I thought I could be anything I wanted."

"Soldier," John Rau said, "you have to earn your advancement in rank."

He didn't say, By putting up with this shit. But that's what Dennis was thinking. He saw John Rau waiting for him to say:

"Yes sir."

Now he said, "Corporal?"

And paused. Dennis believed to make him say it again. See how many times he could get him to repeat it.

"Yes sir?"

"You'll draw perimeter picket duty tonight, eight to twelve. See the first sergeant before the hour and he'll assign you to a post."

One more time.

"Yes sir."

John Rau looked out at his troops and then right away turned to him again. "But before you draw rations and prepare your meal, I want you to get your rifle."

It took Dennis a moment to realize he was free. He could leave. He could have some of that lunch Robert had coming from the hotel, Dennis in his mind until he realized John Rau was staring at him, waiting.

"Soldier, did you hear what I just said?"

Dennis saluted. He said, "Loud and clear, sir," the way Red Buttons said it to John Wayne in The Longest Day before they made the jump and Red's parachute got caught on the church steeple.

"JERRY WON'T EAT OUTSIDE,"Robert said, "and Anne says it's too hot in the tent, so Tonto and Hector ran them back to the hotel."

"Get to do whatever they want," Dennis said. "Like Mel Brooks said, `It's good to be the king.' "

Dennis said, "I bet they never stand in line."

"For what?"

"Anything."

"Same as I'm offering you, man. Never having to stand in line again in your life."

"They coming back?"

"I told Jerry he has to spend the night out here at his command post. I want to see if Arlen's got the nerve to slip over here and fuck with him."

"What's Jerry say about that?"

"I only tell him he has to sleep here, not he's the bait. Anne, I told her to stay at the hotel."

"So you'll be going back there tonight."

Robert didn't say yes or no, he told Dennis to come on, have something to eat, and got him seated under the tent awning with a plate of crawfish etouffee and a cold beer. Robert, his checkered shirt hanging open, popped one for himself. He asked Dennis how was the crawfish and Dennis said it took him home. He told Robert then:

"Charlie says Arlen and his guys always get smashed they come to one of these. They're probably drinking right now."

"So either it jacks 'em up to become active," Robert said, "or they get shitfaced and don't even think of it."

"The next day they're hungover. Charlie says they take hits early in the battle and sleep till it's over. He says they're really good at taking hits."

Robert started to smile. "Come on, what're you telling me?"

"The way they go down. They practice getting shot."

Robert said, "I don't believe you," smiling just a little. "They practice? Go out in their yard and fall down? Sounds like a bunch of redneck Monty Pythons. Well, you know these dudes can be funny they with each other. What I'm saying, they can't all be stupid. See, you forget these Dixie Mafia people are mean motherfuckers. I started thinking, after I showed Arlen the picture of the lynching? Shit, I could be putting ideas in the man's head. Next thing he wants is to hang my ass from a tree."

"Tell me the truth," Dennis said, "where'd you get the picture?"

"I told you, was from a postcard old Broom Taylor gave me."

"But it's not your great-grandfather hanging from the bridge."

"It's somebody's."

"How many times have you used it?"

"Only since I'm here. See, I'm being truthful, 'cause I want you to trust me you come to make up your mind."

"I've already decided."

"No, you haven't, so don't tell me nothing yet."

"What I came to get is a rifle."

It turned on Robert's smile. "You want to be there tomorrow, don't you? In the woods."

Dennis didn't answer, but he said, "Colonel John

Rau doesn't want to see me again without a rifle."

Robert turned his head to the tent next door, to his left. "Groove? Fix this man up with an Enfield. The cartridge box, the pouch, all the shit goes withit." He said to Dennis, "Or what happens, he puts you on KP, makes you peel potatoes?"

"You cook your own meals. We don't have to cure the salt pork, but he told us how, in case we want to fix it at home."

"Dry it out good, lot of salt, some molasses and a tangy hot sauce."

"Colonel Rau likes brown sugar."