"Joe Haldeman - 1968" - читать интересную книгу автора (Haldeman Joe)

radio communication, which was usually monitored by the enemy. Once the enemy knew where you
were at a given time and day, they could send a bogus telegram from Washington, through the Polish
embassy, supposedly from the Army, regretting to inform your parents or wife that you had been killed in
action there and then. Thus undermining morale on the home front.

Spider went along with it, but he did notice that Sergeants Miller (code name Papa) and Wilkes (code
name Sarge) used their actual names. He assumed it was just another one of those things the army did to
take control of your life.
A walk in the park (1)

No more rounds came over and there was no more gunfire from the fire base. After about an hour,
somebody whistled and waved them back. Spider and Moses retrieved the demolition stuff, repacking
the three broken chunks of C-4 into their plastic wrapper and rolling the det cord back onto its spool.

Murphy was moving into point. He reminded Spider to "safe" his weapon before going back to the end
of the line: take the round out of the chamber and replace it in the magazine. Spider pulled back the
arming lever and the round didn't eject.

"Murphy. Look at this." Spider showed him the ejection port. The cartridge was stuck in the chamber at
an odd angle.

"Son of a bitch." Murphy wiggled the cartridge out and cocked the weapon, then slid the arming lever
back again. Same thing. He handed it back. "This piece of shit don't work. Better get it replaced when
we get back. Tell the RTO to call the armorer."

Spider went back down the column and found the radioman squatting on his haunches, smoking intently.
He explained the problem and the man nodded wordlessly over and over, then spun the generator on the
Prick-25 and told Ivy Four-niner Bravo that an X-Ray Echo Mike name Spider wanted to DX a Mike
One Six and trade up. He listened for a moment and then nodded at Spider.

"What they say?"

"They said 'That's a Rodge, out.' "

"Do I get a new gun?"

He shrugged. "I guess if they got enough." Spider started to walk away. "Hold it; let me see that thing."
He cocked it and pried open the ejection port with his fingernail. The round was at the same useless
angle. "Be damned." He jiggled it out and reseated it, straight, then removed the magazine and cocked it
again. This time it worked. "That's what you gotta do. Seat the round manually. Give you at least one
shot."

"But then won't the second round jam it up again?"

"Prob'ly. One round's better than none."

"Yeah. Thanks." Spider walked on back to the rear and took up his position. After a few minutes the
column started moving.

He felt just as exposed here as he had walking point. He'd heard that in a box ambush, they hold their fire