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

tries to tear off the wrapper; he can't. "Chop-chop number ten!"
Chili Vendor snatches the rubber Hershey bar out of the orphan's hands
and tosses it to the next grunt in the line. "Keep moving. Don't you guys
want to be famous? Some of you dudes probably wasted this kid's family, but
back in your hometown you gonna be the big strong Marine with a heart of
gold."
I say in my John Wayne voice: "Listen up, pilgrim. You skating again?"
Chili Vendor turns, sees me and grins. "Hey, Joker, que pasa? This
might be skating, man, it fucking might be. These gook orphans are
hard-core. I think half of them are Viet Cong Marines."
The orphan is walking away, grumbling, kicking the road. Then, as
though to prove Chili Vendor's point, the orphan pauses. He turns around and
gives us the finger with both hands. Then he walks on.
Daytona Dave laughs. "That kid runs an NVA rifle company. Somebody blow
him away."
I grin. "You ladies are doing an outstanding job. You're both born
poges."
Chili Vendor shrugs. "Hey, bro, the Crotch don't send beaners into the
field. We're too tough. We make the grunts look bad."
"You guys getting hit?"
"That's affirmative," says Daytona Dave. "Every night. A few rounds.
They're just fucking with us. Of course, I've got so many confirmed kills I
lost count. Nobody believes me because the gooks drag off their dead. I do
believe that those little yellow enemy folks eat their casualties. Blood
trails all over the place, but no confirmed kills. So here I am, a hero, and
Captain January has got me doing Mickey Mouse shit with this uppity
wetback."


"CORPORAL JOKER!"

"SIR!" Later, people. Come on, Rafter."
Chili Vendor punches Daytona Dave in the chest. "Doubletime up to the
ville and souvenir me one cute orphan, man, but be sure you get a dirty one,
a really skuzzy one."


"JOKER!"
"AYE-AYE, SIR!"


Captain January is in his plywood cubicle in the back of the ISO
hootch. Captain January is the kind of officer who chews an unlit pipe
because he thinks that a pipe will help to make him a father figure. He's
playing cut-throat Monopoly with Mr. Payback. Mr. Payback has more T.I.-time
in-than any other snuffy in our unit. Captain January isn't Captain Queeg,
but then he's not Humphrey Bogart, either. He picks up his little silver
shoe and moves it to Baltic Avenue, tapping each property along the way.
"I'll buy Baltic. And two houses." Captain January reaches for the
white and purple deed to Baltic Avenue. "That's another monopoly, Sergeant."