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

idling, while they walked around in a kind of surprise inspection. Spider put his letter in a mailbag made
of fluorescent-pink polyester-for easier spotting in case it fell out of the helicopter-and then followed
Killer back to their hole.

The officers walked by their bunker without looking at it or them, which disappointed Spider, since he
was rather proud of their handiwork. The colonel walked with his hands in his pockets, frowning, while
the major whispered importantly and sliced diagrams in the air.

The chopper left and Batman came by with the good news that since they hadn't brought any extra Cs,
the company wasn't going to hump more than another day, back to the fire base.

While he was talking, another chopper came, loaded down with C rations. The engineers split two
boxes; six meals each.

"Shit," Spider said. "Does this mean we'll be humpin' for two more days?"

Batman shrugged. "Don't mean nothin'. Still might go back tomorrow; might be out for a month. Bet the
captain don't know any more than we do. Give me one of them Luckies." He took a cigarette from
Spider, lit it up, and coughed. "Jesus. You gonnadie with this shit, man."

"So smoke your own."

Batman waved at a tall black man approaching, a buck sergeant who'd been on the left flank during the
morning walk. "Hey, fool. What's happenin'?"

"Hey, nigger." They slapped palms and he looked at Killer. "You the fuckin' new guy?"

"That's me," Spider said as Killer pointed.

"Oh." He hunkered down in what Spider recognized as a Vietnamese squatting position, feet and knees
together, shoulders thrust forward. It took hours of practice, but definitely proved you weren't an FNG,
fuckin' new guy. "Just makin' sure you don't kill none of us, okay?"

"Don't shoot at me," Spider said.

"Ha ha. Look. My guys gonna be right down the hill in front of you here, in a LP, listening post. You
don't shoot or throw no grenade till they come back here, no matter what kinda shit's goin' on."

"Okay. My sixteen doesn't work anyhow."

"Oh. That's good." He pointed in a line. "Gonna have a tripwire all along there. You get up to take a leak
in the middle of the night, don' trip it. Magnesium flare, somebody shoot you."

"They'd think I was a gook?"

"Shoot you for bein'dumb."

"Yeah, yeah." Batman said, "You pop a flare by accident, yell 'friendly!' loud as you can, wave your
arms. You can put it out by beatin' it with a shovel. Ambushes out yet?"