"That
new Kril from the second Bot come to see you about going back with the casualty
Toob again?" KrutChan asked.
Shrugging, CheChun spit out the words. “Ah
call him Buford. Forgot his Oval name;
that fellow’s still a mite overwhelmed.
He is a malingering fuck and colored yellow. He’s never been under fire."
KrutChan nodded. “He’s yellow ‘cause he’s a North Korean,
Ace.”
“Yeah, that’s what ah said; he’s a gook
and you can call me Mac…if ya wanna git along wid me.”
“Remember what our fearless leader said
about getting along with our former enemies?
He’s a Kril not a gook; he’s on our side remember? Nobody ever got scared in your outfit…Mac? You can call me KrutChan. This ain’t the time for a fist-city waltz or
pecker-size check between us, okay?”
“Okay, chaplain…he’s a fucking
yellow…Kril…and I ain’t St. Mary, the mother of Jesus. You’re gonna have problems wid him is all
ah’m saying.”
“Like they say about opinions and
assholes…”
“Let’s knock it off…ah’ll cease fire and
we’ll get through this. We’re fine for
now…KrutChan.”
“He told me he has pains in his chest.”
“Yeah, and I got a sore elbow. There's about two hundred Kril here – some
are Marines, in this rock-heap-desert wanting to go to the rear. They're all better than that piece a
shit. Since we left Arna he's been
complaining about his goddam chest pains.
If we get lucky he’ll die of a heart attack. That chicken shit is
useless right now. I can send him to you
if you want to talk to him. My old
lieutenant wudda talked to him back at the front; only way to keep the Doctor
off his officer ass.”
“Well, I ain’t a fuggin’ officer; I don’t
give a shit. I don’t wanta see him…not
hardly Don't need him right now or his
whining.”
“Listen fellow, don’t pass his problem off
on me. Don’t need that monkey on my
back. Why don’tcha hold his hand?”
“His pains will pass once we make contact
and engage. North Korean troops are
tough. Anything else you need?”
“No…just waiting for the word to go from
you. What the hell do you call this if
we ain’t in contact and engaging?”
CheChun waved his arms sweeping in the battlefield. His eyes were wary and judging KrutChan.
“Are we drawing fire right now? He’ll straighten out once we are in a
fight. As for me giving the word; it’s not
up to me. That Civil War cavalry man is
commanding now. That guy that lost his
horse; the dismounted officer genius.”
KrutChan observed.
“Toughski shitski his officer ass as the
chaplain says.” He got a wistful look on
his face. “Ah’m not inna hurry. Dis is a nice place to stay for a while. Wish ah hadda cup of hot Joe.”
KrutChan nodded in thought. “Never liked coffee but if I find any I'll be
sure to let you know. I’m a Pablo
Escobar man myself…you know whiskey.”
“Ah don’t want no moonshine. I gotta keep muh brains outta my ass.” He was silent for a moment, and then added as
an afterthought indicating the nervousness they all felt. “Most of our Kril are asking me when do we
get relieved from this crap? They want some
fresh Kril-Arnamal guys’ to move through us so we can get relieved and regroup
to find out iffn we got more than a handful of guys.”
“I don’t remember you guys in the Pacific back
then asking to be pulled off those beaches you took.”
“That’s propaganda horseshit. Most-a-our guys wanted to bug out. We stayed ‘cause we was ordered ta stay.”
KrutChan shook his head and smiled. “But you guys didn’t bail out.”
Changing the subject, CheChun said. “Doesn't look like there's nobody on top of
that hill.” He snorted. “’Course, you don’t ever see ‘um; you jes
know they’re dere.”
“Do I look like an EkSeet? Ask him, he's the soothsayer or vestal
virgin, or whatever.”
“My mastermind sez we be ’inna a swamp wid
gaters snapping at our ass. EkSeet only
spits in my ear when he wants to cram another horseshit rule up my ass. Hope those bastards don't have artillery concentrations
set in up dere.”
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