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

Cowboy has found a stray puppy and is carrying the bony little animal
inside his shirt. Cowboy says to me, "Keep your ass down, bro. Scuttlebutt
is, the Lusthog Squad is headed up to Khe Sanh, a very hairy area. But no
sweat; we can hack it. And maybe they got some horses up there. So if you
ever feel hard enough to be a real Marine, a grunt, bop up to see us."
I pet Cowboy's puppy. "Never happen. But you take care, you piece of
shit. We've got a date with your sister I don't care to miss."
Rafter Man says good-bye to Alice and to the other guys in Cowboy's
squad. He shakes hands with Cowboy and pets Cowboy's puppy. In my best John
Wayne voice I say, "See you later, Mother."
Animal Mother says, "Not if I see you first."


Rafter Man and I ditty-bop down Route One, south, toward Phu Bai. We
hump in crushing heat for hours, looking for a ride. But the sun is without
mercy and there are no convoys in sight.
We sit in the shade by the road. "It's hot," I say. "It's very hot.
Wish that old mamasan was here. I'd souvenir beaucoup money for one Coke..."
Rafter Man stands up. "No sweat. I can find her..." Rafter Man
ditty-bops into the road.
I start to say something about how it might be a good idea for us to
stay together. There are still plenty of NVA stragglers in the area.
"Rafter..." But then I remember that Rafter Man has got his first confirmed
kill. Rafter Man can take care of himself.


The deck trembles. A tank? I look up, but I can't see anything on the
road. Yet nothing on earth sounds as big as a tank, nothing produces that
terrible rumble of metal like a tank. It shakes my bones. I jump up, weapon
ready. I look up and down the road. Nothing. But all around me is the clamor
of rolling iron and the odor of diesel fuel.
Rafter Man is walking across the road. He does not hear the invisible
tank. He does not feel the mechanical earthquake.
I double-time after him. "Rafter!"
Rafter Man turns around. He grins. And then we both see it. The tank is
an object of heavy metal forged from a cold shadow, a ghost with substance.
The black mechanical phantom comes for us, dark ectoplasm rolling in the
sun. The blond tank commander stands in the turret hatch, staring straight
ahead and into the beyond, laughing.
Rafter Man turns around.
I say, "Don't move."
But Rafter looks at me, panic on his face.
I grab his shoulder.
Rafter Man pulls away and runs.
The tank is bearing down on me. I don't move.
The tank swerves, misses me, roars past like a big iron dragon. The
tank runs over Rafter Man and crushes him beneath its steel treads. And then
it's gone.
Rafter Man likes on his back in the dirt, a crushed dog spilling out of
its skin. Rafter Man looks at me the way he looked at me that day at the