"Smith, Wilbur - Courtney 03 - A Sparrow Falls" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith Wilbur)

the problem. His voice was low and intense. I picked out a good stand
for the lad, just beyond the farm house. He can cover the whole of the
northern slope at less than two hundred yards. He'll move out now and
settle in while it's still dark. I'm sending him out early. I want him
to make his move before the Hun. I don't want the lad walking on top of
the bastard in the dark. Fergus MacDonald took over from Mark with an
air of authority. Then we both wait until the light is good and clean,
then I start working with Cuthbert here, he patted the dummy and
chuckled again. It's damned difficult to give him a nice natural look,
like some stupid rooky sticking his head -up to take a first look at
France. If you let the Hun get too long a look at him, then he'll
tumble to the trick, but if you make it too quick, he won't get a chance
for a shot.

No, it's not easy. Yes, I should imagine, Sean murmured wryly, that
it's the most dangerous and difficult part of the whole thing.

And he saw the deadly expression flit across Fergus MacDonald's face
before he turned to Mark Anders. Another mug of coffee, lad, and then
it's time to be getting on. I want you in place before the snow stops.
Sean reached into the breast of his great-coat and brought out the
silver flask that Ruth had given him on the day the regiment sailed. Put
some fangs in the coffee. He offered the flask to Mark.

The boy shook his head shyly. No thank you, sir. Makes me see squill.
Don't mind if I do, sir. Fergus MacDonald reached swiftly across the
brazier. The clear brown liquid glugged freely into his own mug.

The Sergeant-Major had sent out a patrol before midnight to cut a lane
through the wire in front of A Company.

Mark stood at the foot of the trench ladder and changed his rifle from
the right hand; another flare burst overhead and in its light Sean saw
how intent the boy was on his task. He pulled back the bolt of the
rifle, and Sean noted that he was not using the standard No. 1 short
Lee-Enfield, which was the work-horse of the British army, but that he
favoured the American P-4 which also fired the . 303

calibre but had the longer barrel and finer balance.

Mark stripped two clips of ammunition into the magazine and closed the
bolt, levering a round of carefully selected and waxed ammunition into
the breach.

In the last light of the flare he looked across at Sean, and nodded
slightly. The flare died and in the darkness that followed Sean heard
the quick light steps on the wooden ladder. He wanted to call good luck
after the boy, but suppressed the whim and instead patted his pockets
for his cheroot case.