"Gustav Hasvord. The Short-Timers " - читать интересную книгу автора

A dozen recruits look up. They hesitate. Some look sick. Others look
scared. And some look shocked and angry, as though I'd just slapped a
cripple.
I force myself to speak: "Leonard talks to his rifle." Nobody moves.
Nobody says anything. "I don't think Leonard can hack it anymore. I think
Leonard is a Section Eight."
Now guys all along the table are listening. They look confused. Their
eyes seem fixed on some distant object as though they are trying to remember
a bad dream.
Private Barnard nods. "I've been having this nightmare. My...rifle
talks to me." He hesitates. "And I've been talking back to it..."
"There it is," says Philips. "Yeah. It's cold. It's a cold voice. I
thought I was going plain fucking crazy. My rifle said-"
Sergeant Gerheim's big fist drives Philip's next word down his throat
and out of his asshole. Philips is nailed to the deck. He's on his back. His
lips are crushed. He groans.
The platoon freezes.
Sergeant Gerheim puts his fists on his hips. His eyes glare out from
under the brim of his Smokey the Bear campaign cover like the barrels of a
shotgun. "Private Pyle is a Section Eight. You hear me? If Private Pyle
talks to his piece it is because he's plain fucking crazy. You maggots will
belay all this scuttlebutt. Don't let Private Joker play with your
imaginations. I don't want to hear another word. Do you hear me? Not one
word."


Night at Parris Island. We stand by until Sergeant Gerheim snaps out
his last order of the day: "Prepare to mount....Readdy...MOUNT!" Then we're
lying on our backs in our skivvies, at attention, our weapons held at port
arms.
We say our prayers:

I am a United States Marine Corps recruit. I serve in the forces which
guard my country and my way of
life. I am prepared to give my life in their defense, so help me
God...GUNG HO! GUNG HO! GUNG HO!

Then the Rifleman's Creed, by Marine Corps Major General W.H. Rupertus:

This is my rifle. There are many like it but this one is mine. My rifle
is my best friend. It is my life. I
must master it as I master my life.

My rifle, without me, is useless. I must fire my rifle true. I must
shoot straighter than my enemy who
is trying to kill me. I must shoot him before he shoots me.

I will.

Leonard is speaking for the first time in weeks. His voice booms louder