Hale laughed, “You’re barely older than I am!”
Maki joined in the laughter, “Aye, and I would have gotten lost in the woods getting here if not for the rest of you holding my hand.” Maki’s stopped laughing and patted the PP 34, “But I can contribute. I can cover you so you can use your skills on those fuckers.”
“You know, they are young men just like we are. They’ve been told to fight just like we have.” Hale replied.
“Fuck them. We are fighting for our homes and our way of life. They are fighting, because if they don’t, the party will riddle their families with bullets.” Maki replied.
“Dark the world has become. A place where the candle light of freedom sputters and blinks in the growing winds of tyranny.” Hale replied.
“I thought I was the university graduate. Who taught you philosophy?” Maki asked.
“My dad. Though we have a hard life living off the land, he always challenged me to exercise my mind as hard as I exercised my body.” Hale replied.
“He sounds like a wise man.” Maki replied.
“He is.” Hale replied softly.
“You’ll get to see him again when this is all over.” Maki reassured.
Hale nodded slowly. As Maki added, “Eat up. We’ve got to get moving.”
As Hale sipped on his stew and coffee, Maki wrote a note. When he finished, he nailed it to the tent post that was prominently visible upon entry.”
“What’s that?” Hale asked.
“It’s a letter to the rest of the squad to join us. We’ll need all the help we can muster.” Maki replied.
Maki then worked to load his pack. He placed within enough rations for several days, and six clips of ammunition that appeared to fit the Russian submachine gun. He then walked over to grey chest and opened it. Pulling out the first aid kit, he took several fresh bandages and wraps from it for Hale’s shoulder. He placed the kit back into the larger chest and dropped the bandages and wraps into his pack.
Turning to Hale the Lieutenant asked, “How are you doing on bullets?”
“I’m completely out.” Hale replied.
Maki’s eyes narrowed, “You were out of ammo, yet you’ve been lamenting about not saving Pekka this whole time?”
Hale nodded sheepishly, “Yes.” Before Maki could fire off a retort Hale held up his hand and continued, “I know it doesn’t make any sense.”
“No, it doesn’t. This is why you need to clear your head of this nonsense. The mental energy you are wasting on what you couldn’t have hoped to prevent is best saved for our mission.”
“I’ll try.” Hale replied softly.
“No, you’ll do. That’s an order.” The Lieutenant barked sternly, “There are several boxes of 7.62mm ammo for your rifle next to the grey footlocker. Fill up your bandolier, and your clips. Hell fill up your pockets too. We are probably going to need every last bit of it.”
“Yes sir.” Hale replied.
Hale quickly finished up his meal and strode over to the spot Maki had indicated. Looking down he immediately spotted several wooden boxes. The unpainted boxes smelled faintly of freshly cut wood. The ammunition containers were about four inches wide and a foot deep. The two ends of the boxes sported handles made from a black colored rope.
Hale knelt down and wrestled the top off box closest to him. His eyes took in the gleam of the box full of 7.62mm rifle rounds. The bullets, about four inches in length, started with a sharp point on the business end, and ended with a flat circular base. In the middle of the flat circular based, surrounded by numbers, and contrasting with the brass coloration of the rest of the bullet’s casing, was a silver circle. The percussion cap. Hale thought.
Hale worked quickly to fill his bandolier with the new rounds of ammunition. Task complete, he began filling up his empty magazines with the new bullets. Finally, he located his rifle, still on the floor by the entrance of the tent, and ejected the clip. Only two bullets remained inside the clip. He quickly filled the clip back up and slammed it home in his rifle.
Finishing up, he helped himself to some ration tins, and then turned to see what Maki was up to. The Lieutenant had gone through a transformation. Gone was the relaxed looking officer in his white sweater, and gray uniform pants. He was now suited up in white pants, and over coat just like Hale had worn outside.
Like Hale’s, the white coat had a large hood that would help to protect the wearer of the jacket from the sub-zero temperatures of a Finnish December. Maki had donned his pack which hung on his back. On his right shoulder he wore the PPD 34. He also sported a gray colored utility belt with a pistol holster, and several grenades attached to it. The grenades were the German style wooden handled variety with the metal top that the Germans called the Stielhandgranate or stick grenade, “Ready?” Maki asked.
Hale nodded, “Yes.”
“On the side of the tent I have several sets of skis. We’ll use them to quickly make our way over the snow to the village.” Maki said.
Hale smiled, “Good. After slogging through miles of this knee-deep snow, I’ve learned my lesson about losing track of my skis.”
“The skis are a huge advantage for us. Without them we wouldn’t be able to move around the Russians like we have. Those idiots have been hugging the roads and ignoring the woodlands. We’ve made them pay dearly for their ignorance thus far. By hitting the bastards by surprise, then disappearing into the forest using our skis, we drive fear into their hearts. The same group of Finns, using their skis, can easily hit them again elsewhere in a short amount of time. This gives those Marxist pigs the impression there are a great many more of us than is actually the case.” Maki said.
The two men quickly attached the skis to their boots and began the journey northward toward the village of Kivennapa. As they traveled away from the tent, the two men set a steady pace. It wasn’t long before Hale’s injured shoulder began to ache with the effort of using his ski poles to push himself forward over the snow.
As Hale’s discomfort grew, he began to give it away with heavy breathing and a slowing pace. Worried Maki turned and asked, “Are you ok?”
“It’s my shoulder, the effort of pulling myself forward with the ski pole is causing it to hurt.” Hale replied.
“Let’s take a break for a few minutes. I may have something to help.” Maki replied.
Hale gently lowered himself to the frigid snow pack, careful not to cause any additional discomfort. As he did so, Maki took off his pack and began to rummage through it. He pulled out an object, wrapped in brown paper. Tearing the paper open, he dropped the contents of the pack into his open palm. It was a syringe.
Turning to Hale, he said, “Take off your coat.”
Hale leaned back so that the bottom of his pack rested on the ground. He then gently slipped his arms out of it. Once the pack was laying on the ground, he stood up and removed his coat. The freezing air immediately made him regret his choice as the force of the icy air slammed into him like a brick wall. He unconsciously grabbed himself with his arms trying to retain his warmth.
“Lower your right arm and let it relax.” Maki asked.
Hale did as he was told. Looking over at Maki he said, “What’s that?”
“It’s a syringe of morphine. This will help you forget about the pain in your shoulder.” Maki said.
“I thought we were supposed to save that for serious injuries.” Hale replied.
“I need you to get to the village in fighting condition. This will help.” Maki said. Then added, “Stand still.” As he plunged the needle into Hale’s arm.
Hale winced at the sharp pain in his arm. A few moments later he smiled as the pain in his shoulder began to disappear. He met Maki’s gaze and said, “Wow.”
“That is going to have to do you for a while. I brought most of our base camp’s supply, but I need you to be able to shoot straight when we get there.” Maki said.