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

"Yeah, okay, you don't have to get hard. What are you going to do-send
me to Viet Nam? Cut me some slack, Cowboy. You ain't John Wayne. You just
eat the cookies."
Animal Mother grunts. "Bet a buck." He drops a red chip. He puts his
cards facedown on the deck and continues to massage his disassembled machine
gun with the white cloth. "New Guy, you just better not be no hero. Lifers
get glory; grunts get killed. Like ol' Rafter Man. Went hand to hand with a
tank. And Crazy Earl; shot gooks with a BB gun. Last New Guy we had sat down
on a bouncing betty his first day in the bush. Rotated straight to hell.
Blew away six good grunts. KIA and tough titty to you, ma. I got shrapnel
through my nose..." Animal Mother leans forward and shows the New Guy his
nose. "Worst part about it was that little maggot owed me five bucks-"
Alice spits. "You got to run them sea stories?"
Animal Mother ignores Alice and says, "This is no shit, New Guy. Stoke,
our old honcho, thought he was Supergrunt. Got the thousand-yard stare.
Every time he saw a dead Marine he'd start laughing. Pulled a tour of duty
in a rubber room. He-"
Alice stands up. "Stow that Mickey Mouse shit, Mother. You hear me?"
Animal Mother doesn't look up. He says, "Thank God for sickle cell."
Alice scratches his chest. "No racists in a foxhole, Mother. New Guy,
you'll do fine. No sweat."
"Sure," says Animal Mother. "Just watch me. Do what I do. These guys
will tell you that I am a monster, but I'm the only grunt in this squad that
doesn't have his head up his ass. In this world of shit, monsters live
forever and everybody else dies. If you kill for fun, you're a sadist. If
you kill for money, you're a mercenary. If you kill for both, you're a
Marine."
"Yes, sir," says the New Guy, dropping two chips into the pot.
"I'm horny," I say. "I can't even get a piece of hand."
Animal Mother groans. "That was real funny, Joker. I don't get it." He
drops two chips, then three more. "I raise you three bucks. Dealer takes two
cards."
The New Guy says, "I'll take three cards. And I'm not a hero. Just want
to do my job. You know, defend freedom-"
"Fuck freedom," says Animal Mother. Animal Mother starts reassembling
the M-60. He kisses each piece before snapping it back into place. "Flush
out your headgear, New Guy. You think we waste gooks for freedom? Don't kid
yourself; this is a slaughter. You're got to open your eyes, New Guy-you owe
it to yourself. If I'm gonna get my balls shot off for a word I get to pick
my own word and my word is poontang. Yeah, you better believe we zap
zipperheads. They waste our bros and we cut them a big piece of payback. And
payback is a motherfucker."
"Why talk about it?" asks Donlon. "The Nam can kill me, but it can't
make me care. I just want to get back to the land of the Big PX in one
piece. I owe it to myself."
"Why go back?" I ask. "Here or there, samey-same. Home is where my
sergeant is-right, Cowboy?" I turn and look at Animal Mother. "You watch
Cowboy, New Guy. Cowboy will tell you what to do."
"Yeah," says Donlon, plucking a pack of cigarettes from the elastic
band around his helmet. "Cowboy takes this shit seriously."