Вяйнё Линна - Unknown Soldiers

‘Want a smoke?’

Koskela started and opened his eyes. Why was Hietanen standing there like that – black – with a pack of cigarettes in his hand? Määttä gazed in wonder as Koskela’s eyes stretched wide for a couple of seconds, as if he hadn’t quite understood the offer. Then Koskela took the cigarette and said, ‘Oh… yeah… I mean, thanks. I guess I fell asleep.’

‘So I see. It’s just that that engine over there’s started rumbling already. Don’t seem like they’re giving us any downtime.’

‘No, no.’

Määttä sat down to smoke as well, and Koskela relaxed against the tree trunk again. His recent dream had upset him. Why had he seen Määttä as Hietanen? He felt wretched and all mixed up. Some kind of restlessness was gnawing away at him, but he couldn’t find any reason for it.

‘How much longer am I going to hang on out here?’

Where did that sudden thought come from? He didn’t usually allow such thoughts to enter his mind. Then he remembered what he had been thinking the last time he saw Kariluoto alive: That man will die today.

Was his number up next? Why was all of this coming to mind? For God’s sake, here I am telling fortunes. It’s nothing but exhaustion. That’s where this whole numb depression’s coming from. I had a dream. He must have been dead before the flames reached him. The man was full of holes, at least. But the ones who were in the ambulance – that must have been pretty horrible all right. Koskela had been in such a panic himself over the situation that night that he hadn’t had time to think about anything. But seeing it was terrible. That’s where that sight a second ago came from, too. Yeeeesh. Seeing a guy you know in that kind of state…

Pi piew pieeeeeeeeeeeeeeew…

‘OK. They’re here. And we’re going to be up against them pretty soon, too. Better keep our eyes peeled.’

Koskela lay in a foxhole. The ground trembled and swayed. Sand blew down from the upper rim. A piece of shrapnel whirred closer. The noise intensified until the side of the ditch suddenly caved in.

‘How the hell did they move those guns so fast?’ Koskela cautiously raised his head, but quickly ducked it back down again, having spotted a column of smoke rising into the air close by. Dirt rained down into his pit.

When the barrage fell silent, Koskela heard a call to attack. The first shots were already whizzing by. On the left, Määttä was hammering away with the machine gun as if his life depended on it. Koskela overheard Honkajoki saying as he ran by their position that the Lieutenant Colonel was lying down, but nonetheless declaring gravely in a voice thick with fear, ‘Damn it! Now’th the moment we could really use those anti-mithile weaponth.’

Undoubtedly. Three tanks were coming down the road, tearing up the surrounding roadside with their guns. Koskela ran past the shooting men, who, in their nervousness, were aiming at the tanks, which was of course pointless. A grenade from one of the tanks killed somebody, and a panicked cry rose nearby, screaming, ‘They’re gonna run us over! Guys! They’re gonna run us over…’

‘Stay in position! They’re not going to run anyone over. It’s mined over there.’ Koskela yelled as loud as he could in order to make himself heard over the din. He knew that if the men didn’t hear his order clearly, it might easily induce a general panic. There were several short-range defense guys lying in the ditch alongside the road. Koskela crawled over to them.

‘Got any satchel charges?’

‘Yeah. But these won’t get anywhere close…’

‘I’ll try. Couple of you guys come with me!’

‘It’d be better to try from the pit. Ditch here’s too shallow.’

Of course it would be better. But Koskela was quite sure that by then it would be too late. The men would flee before the tanks came within range of the pit.

Satchel charges were almost entirely ineffectual by now, as the tanks were well secured, but there was no other option.

Koskela set out. Two men followed. The first tank stopped and then turned toward the side of the road. The drivers were already fairly sure that the Finns didn’t have any anti-tank equipment. Otherwise they would have started shooting it well before now. The tank advanced boldly. Bullets crackled in the pine branches and direct fire blasted into the roadside.

Straight ahead was a curve in the ditch, where it swerved around a boulder. If he could just make it there.

Koskela made it. He squatted down on his knees and waited. The tank seemed as though it was starting to hesitate, but kept approaching nonetheless, shooting continuously. Koskela tried to calm himself as much as possible. He knew from experience that this kind of situation called for presence of mind above all else. You couldn’t try from too far away, and you had to focus on the task and block out any distractions. You had to try to forget where this toss was happening. To do it without thinking about the danger or what it meant. As if you were just trying to hit the tank in some entirely calm, safe place. You also had to risk as much as you could stand to be sure that you wouldn’t miss.

‘And there’s my shot.’ Koskela pulled the igniter and rose to a crouch. He threw on an upwards curve, and the arc was beautiful, like a great toss in a ball game. The charge fell just beside the gun turret, rolled across it onto the fender and went off. The tread broke and the tank stopped, turning onto its side. Koskela couldn’t see it any more. He’d been shot by a submachine gun across the road just as the satchel charge left his hand. He tried once to rise up onto his elbows, but his limp body collapsed onto the floor of the ditch, and Quiet Koski was dead.

The other two tanks paused for a moment, but then drove boldly past the wrecked vehicle. When the men in the line saw that Koskela didn’t get up, and that the tanks were drawing nearer, they started to run. And everything unraveled from there.

Karjula hadn’t left Lammio’s command post. He had to block off the road in that direction, or else ‘the whole Combined Combat Unit Karjula would go thtraight to hell’. What was holding up that damn anti-tank gun? You’d think the Red Army itthelf wath manning the thing! The ground-attack planeth have nothing to do with the gun tranthport. The main road’th not an air-thtrip. The planeth are in the thky! Yeth, of courthe the main road ith open over there!

The phone rang. Positions lost. Koskela dead. Part of the Third Company in a panic.

Karjula left.

Lammio followed after him, but Karjula ordered him to remain and organize a blockade with the reserve units.

When Karjula reached the battalion, the retreat was in full swing. ‘You goddamn flock of thheep! Get into pothition! Not one more thtep! Anyone who keepth on running ith a dead man!’

Panicked men ran down the road, and somebody panted defensively, ‘What are we supposed to do? There’s no anti-tank guns! Koskela already went and got himself killed.’

‘Quiet! Who’th thtill mouthing off over there? Halt! Or I’ll thhoot.’

Karjula had a pistol in his hand. The men closest to him stopped hesitatingly and dropped to the ground, taking cover in the ditch. But the men further off just kept on running.

‘They’re coming, boys! Tanks!’

The shout further exacerbated the panic and even one of the men who had stopped at Karjula’s command now shot off again. The Lieutenant Colonel lost his last shred of self-control. The blatant disobedience made his body shake. A thick, blinding rage blurred his brain, in which there was nothing but a vague thought. ‘This is the moment. It should be put into action now. This is the situation it’s meant for.’

The groping thought was a sign that even he at least hesitated. That was why he formulated the thought: to defend himself against the pressing awareness that he was committing a crime. He spotted a man further off who was walking along unfazed by his shouting, a submachine gun over his shoulder.