Why was it that talking about anything seemed to spoil it? Better to keep it to yourself.
Another hour passed. The sun climbed higher. Cole's scalp started to itch, so he took off his helmet. It was easier to get up close to the wall of the trench without it, anyway.
He had the kid waggle the helmet on a stick, but nothing doing. The other sniper didn’t take a shot.
The kid dug some rations out of his haversack and shared them with Cole. They washed it down with a few gulps from their canteens.
It had gotten so quiet on the front line that a soldier a hundred yards away made the mistake of raising his head out of his foxhole, thinking to take a better look at the Chinese on the opposite ridge. Seconds later, a bullet came in and killed him. The sound of the rifle shot followed, echoing across the ridges and valley.
Wherever the Chinese sniper had been, he was back now.
"The shot came from off to the left," the kid said, trying desperately to see anything over there.
Cole knew that he wouldn't see any sign of the sniper. The sniper would be well hidden, just as Cole was here. They would only catch a glimpse of him if they were very, very lucky.
Something that stood out was how far off that shot had been. The echo of the rifle shot had sounded different than how it had yesterday. Same sector, but a different spot. One thing for sure, the sniper was a long way off.
There was no point in trying the helmet on a stick trick again. He had not fallen for it yesterday. Then again, why not?
"Kid, here's what I want you to do." Cole nodded at his helmet. "Go ahead and put my helmet on a stick and raise it above the trench. Let's see what happens. Maybe he'll take the bait."
The kid did as he was told, and Cole waited, tense behind the rifle scope, hoping to catch a glimpse of a muzzle flash or some other tiny sign of where the sniper lay hidden. When the enemy fired, he couldn't miss it.
Nothing happened. The kid raised the helmet and waved it back and forth, like a flag in front of a bull. Still nothing.
"Never mind, kid. Put your helmet back on."
"Guess he's not interested," the kid said. He picked up the binoculars again. "Hold on. That wasn’t there before. Do you see that off to the left?"
"What?"
"It's a… I think it's a bottle."
Chapter Eighteen
Chen had been in position since before dawn, making his way into the Chinese line in the darkness. By now he knew this route by memory because he had passed down this path so many times before. The weather was still warm enough to wear the soft-soled shoes that he preferred, and this enabled him to move almost silently in the gray pre-dawn light.
He felt like a true soldier, moving with the stealth of a lion, just as his fellow Chinese warriors had done for centuries. Instead of a spear, he carried a rifle.
Every soldier and peasant knew that it was best to go quietly in the dark, rather than awaken the enemies and predators that lurked in the night.
The quiet moment was broken only by a grunt and the sound of stumbling footsteps, reminding him that he was not alone. Once again, accompanying him this morning was Major Wu.
Chen paused and asked, "Are you all right, sir?"
"Fine, fine," Wu said, ending with a chuckle. "Not all of us have your eagle eyes, you know."
Wu had traveled even lighter than usual, not even bothering with a rifle. Instead, he wore a holster on his belt. A pair of binoculars was slung around his neck. He had brought along a small rucksack with some cold rice and dried fish, which he shared with Chen when they paused on their hike up Sniper Ridge.
"We cannot have our sniper going hungry," Wu said. “Dried fish for you. Only the best!”
Chen ate, cognizant of the fact that the food, though barely more than peasant fare, was far better than what any of the troops were eating this morning.
The major had also brought along a bottle of rice wine, but Chen took only a few measured sips just to chase away the morning chill and wash down the food. He would have preferred tea.
Wu drank enough for both of them.
Even in the dim light, Chen could see that characteristically, Wu had worn his political officer's uniform that looked so out of place in the outdoorsy surroundings, like he was headed for a dress parade. Not for the first time, Chen was reminded of a barnyard peacock, right down to Wu's noisy strut down the path — when he was not stumbling over his own two feet and making enough noise for a company of water buffalo.
They moved into position as the light slowly grew over the eastern hills, illuminating the landscape before them. The scenery was steep and forbidding, but by now, the harsh hills and mountains surrounding them seemed like old friends.
Chen studied the defenses nearby, then the valley before them, and finally the hilltop opposite them where the American and UN troops awaited dawn while crouched in their own defenses. Of course, Chen couldn't actually see the enemy soldiers, but he sensed that they were there.
As the light grew, one of the enemy soldiers grew careless, heaving himself out of a foxhole and walking along the ridge toward another position. He didn't seem to be in any particular hurry or sense that he was in grave danger. Normally, he would have been fine. He was too distant for the Chinese soldiers to be any threat. What the soldier had not counted on was Chen's presence.
Chen followed the soldier in his telescopic sight, leading him slightly, before pulling the trigger and putting an end to him. One moment the man was living; the next he was not.
A lesson for us all, Chen thought. He slid the bolt back and forth, readying another round.
Wu grunted in approval. He watched nearby through the binoculars. "The first one of the day," he said, then paused to raise the bottle it in a toast. He seemed intent on drinking most of the bottle during the course of the morning. "Here's to many more."
Activity on the other side had slowed, however, because word had gotten out about the sniper. In any case, that was Chen's suspicion. Even the Americans were fools only to a point.
He was curious about the fact that an American sniper had opposed him yesterday. He had gotten lucky with a shot that he thought had hit the enemy sniper's spotter. Someone over there had the same job that Wu had on this side.
Even if Chen had not killed the spotter, then he had certainly wounded him. However, he was sure that the enemy sniper had gone unscathed. Some of the enemy's shots had struck close to his own position, which gave Chen pause.
First of all, it was a very long distance to shoot so accurately. He felt challenged by the distance. Somehow, the enemy sniper was able to shoot almost as well. Although he had been guessing at Chen's position, he had come unerringly close
The problem for both snipers was that neither man could see the other. Both of them were so well buried into their sniper's nests that there was very little chance of either man presenting himself as a target to the other one. The other man's spotter had made the mistake of letting himself be seen by Chen. Just a glimpse, but it had been enough.
Chen had the unpatriotic thought that perhaps he could rid himself of Wu in much the same way if the opportunity presented itself. He had already lost one spotter at the Chosin Reservoir, but losing Wu was something of a double-edged sword, however. As pushy as Wu could be, he had also become Chen's champion. Who would save him a place at the fire, if not Wu?
"Please keep your head down, sir," Chen said.
"Surely, none of them can shoot that far." Wu laughed, then seemed to reconsider and did what Chen suggested, keeping his head down. "Then again, maybe they can. You would know best."
But as it grew lighter, Major Wu sipped his wine and seemed to grow bored.