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

Animal Mother shrugs and helps me into my NVA rucksack. Then I help him
put on his field pack. I say, "Now you buy me Saigon tea?" Mother sneers. I
blow him a kiss. "No sweat, maleen, I love you too much." Mother spits.
Cowboy waves his hand and Alice takes the point.
I say, "Break a leg, Jungle Bunny."
Alice gives me the finger. Then he raises his right fist and throws
power. On the blue canvas shopping bag slung on Alice's back is the warning:
If you can read this your too dam close.
Cowboy waves his hand and the squad moves out.
My gear feels like a bag of rocks, heavier than before.
Animal Mother tells Parker, the New Guy. "Don't follow me too close,
New Guy. If you step on a mine I don't want to get fucked up."
Parker steps back.
As is my custom, I salute Animal Mother so that any snipers in the area
will assume that he is an officer and shoot him instead of me. I have become
a little paranoid since I painted a red bull's-eye on the top of my helmet.
Animal Mother returns my salute, then spits, then grins. "You sure are
funny, you son-of-a-bitch. You're a real comedian."
"Sorry 'bout that," I say.


Searching for something we don't want to find, we hump. And hump. And
when we're so bone-sore tired that our minds sever contact with our bodies,
we hump even faster, green phantoms in the twilight.
From somewhere, from everywhere, an almost inaudible snap.
A bird goes insane. One bird sputters overhead. And a great weight of
birds shift across the canopy.
Alice stands rigid and listens. He raises his right hand and closes it
into a fist. Danger.
I slump forward. My body is aching with all the thousand natural shocks
that flesh is hear to after every fiber of every muscle is begging you to
stop but you choose to overrule such objections by a force of will stronger
than muscle, bullying your body into taking one more step, one more step,
just one more step...
Cowboy thinks about it. Then he says, "Hit it."
Wavering forms crumple to the deck as Cowboy's order is echoed from man
to man back down the trail.
I say to Cowboy, "Bro, I was hoping a sniper would ding me so I'd have
an excuse to fall down. I mean, I think I'm going to hate this movie..."
Cowboy is watching Alice. "Cut the shit, Joker."
Kneeling, Alice studies the few yards of trail he can see before it's
swallowed by leathery, dark green jungle plants. Alice studies the treetops,
too, for a long time. "It's not right, bro."
I say, "That's affirm, Cowboy. All my crabs are screaming, 'Abandon
ship! Abandon ship!'"
Cowboy ignores me, keeps his eyes on Alice. "We got to move, Midnight."
The jungle is silent except for the squeak-squeak of a canteen being
unscrewed.
"Hurry up and wait. Hurry up and wait." Alice wipes the sweat from his
eyes. "All I want to do is make it back to the hill so I can smoke about one