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

"That sounds like a personal problem to me, Cowboy. I can't tell you what to
do. If I was a human being instead of a Marine, maybe I'd know." I scratch
my armpit. "You're the honcho. You're the sergeant around here and you give
the orders. You make the decisions. I could never do it. I could never run a
rifle squad. Never happen, bro. I just don't have the balls."
Cowboy thinks about it. Then he grins. "You're right, Joker. You
shitbird. You're right. I've got to get my program squared away. I wish
Gunny Gerheim was here. He'd know what to do." Cowboy thinks about it. He
grins. "Shit." He walks back to the squad. "Moving..."
The squad hesitates. Crazy Earl has always been the one to say what is.
Animal Mother stands up. He sets his M-60 machine gun into his hip. He
doesn't speak. He looks at the dirty faces of the squad. He moves out.
The squad collects its gear and gets to its feet.
Cowboy waves his hand and Mother takes the point.


We are discussing the best way to search the street house to house when
a tank rumbles up.
Donlon says, "Hey, a tank! We can get it to-"
"No," says Cowboy. "Number ten! We don't need any help."
"That's affirmative," says Animal Mother.
I say, "A tank could flush him for us, Cowboy. Think about it. We can't
budge gook grunts without supporting arms."
Cowboy shrugs. "Oh, to hell with it."
I double-time down the road to meet the tank. I run past heaps of
rubble which were houses yesterday, bricks and stones and shattered wood
today.
The tank jerks to a halt. The turret whirs. The big ninety-millimeter
gun locks on me. For a long moment I think that the tank is going to blow me
away.
The top half of the blond tank commander appears in the turret hatch.
The lieutenant is wearing a flak jacket and an olive-drab football helmet
with a microphone that protrudes over his lip. He is a mechanical centaur,
half man, half tank.
I point out the mansions and I explain about the sniper, about how the
sniper wasted our bro and all that good shit.
Cowboy comes over and tells the lieutenant to "wait one" and then to
start wasting the mansions, one after another.
The blond tank commander is silent. He gives us a thumbs-up.


Cowboy sends Lance Corporal Stutten and his fire team around behind the
row of mansions.
Animal Mother sets up his M-60 on a low wall and opens fire, raking the
mansions at random. Every fifth round is a tracer.
The tank rolls up to the first mansion.
The rest of us double-time down an alley and cross the road a hundred
yards down the street, at the end of the row of mansions.
At the opposite end of the street sits the tank. The tank fires a round
of high explosives. The upper story of the first house is blown apart. The