‘Oh, but Captain, sir! Not the writing pads, please. The ladies won’t oblige if we don’t lay on the love songs.’
The men choked back their laughter at Rahikainen’s plea, all the more outrageous for having been addressed directly to the Captain. But even the corners of Kaarna’s lips betrayed the trace of a dry smile as he said, ‘Well, well. Listen to this. Listen to this man! Won’t oblige, he says. Naaw… nah. If she takes after her mother, she will, and if she takes after her father, she’ll downright beg you for it. All right, let me see. Those boots – trade ’em in for new ones. They won’t last the march… hee, hee. Lay on the love songs. So that’s what it is. Well, well. This boy’s going to conquer the ladies with his pen… his pen, he says! Hietanen! The NCOs appear to have taken advantage of their friendly relations with weapons supply to get some shoddy rifles for themselves. Well, that’s one way to get out of cleaning and greasing your gun barrels… sneaky business… sneaky business. But if anyone in the platoon is still hanging on to one of those, have him go and trade it in immediately. Is that clear? OK, all right. With his pen, he says. Hmm. Ha! Well. Lah-dee-dah… da-dee-dum-dada.’
The whole time, the Captain’s sharp eyes had been surveying the men’s gear. The running monologue and constant humming were typical of his general mode of operation – outlets for his excess energy.
Without even standing at attention, the first squad leader, Corporal Lehto, suddenly asked, ‘Captain, sir, I’m not a boy scout, so I don’t know what we’re supposed to be prepared for. It’s not war, is it?’
‘Nooo… no…’ The Captain kept his composure. ‘You don’t go to war just like that. The war’s pretty far off. All the way in the Balkans.’
‘Captain, sir,’ Rahikainen piped up, ‘it seems to move pretty quick these days! You know… uh, “Blitzkrieg”, so to speak.’
Kaarna looked at Rahikainen and laughed. ‘Well, if it comes, it comes! War comes, you fight!’
‘Oh, we’ll fight all right. And once we get started, there’s no telling how far we’ll go.’
‘That’s the way, that’s the way!’ Private Salo, the guy from Ostrobothnia, was eager to chip in a word.
A ripple of disdain flashed across the Captain’s face. Salo’s ingratiating zeal clearly nauseated him, but his voice remained businesslike as he turned to Lehto. ‘By the way. It seems you may have to do without that coffee.’
‘Makes no difference to me,’ Lehto replied flatly.
Lehto had taken on a position of trust with the Captain, having recently moved the latter’s family into a new apartment in town. The lady of the house hadn’t been able to offer him the customary coffee during the move, so Lehto had been promised it at some later date. This corporal from the outskirts of the working-class town of Tampere had taken a rather curious route to becoming the Captain’s favorite – namely, by returning late from leave. Lehto had been without his parents since he was a little boy, and so was accustomed to fending for himself. There was something shady, even sinister about him, and the others all sensed it, though they wouldn’t have been able to put it into words. They were all about the same age, but Lehto seemed older. His terse, surly manner never betrayed the slightest hint of warmth, and he became visibly irritated when confronted with sentimental situations. Homeland, family, faith, the Glorious Finnish Army and anything at all that smacked of ‘spirituality’ – Lehto had one swift answer to all of it: ‘Cut the crap! Let’s see who’s got cash. Who’s playing?’
As a civilian he’d ridden shotgun for a truck driver, but beyond that no one had managed to squeeze any information out of him about his previous life. Marches and other heavy-duty exercises never seemed to tire him. His face alone would take on a stony cast, and his thin-lipped mouth would stretch tight into an almost savage expression.
He’d been a full week late returning from leave, and in response to the Captain’s questioning, he had replied flatly, ‘Didn’t feel like it.’
‘Feel like it!’ Kaarna fairly trembled with rage. ‘Are you aware of the consequences?’
‘I know the Disciplinary Code, Captain, sir.’
The Captain paused for a moment, staring out of the window. He tapped his fingers on the corner of the table and finally said quietly, ‘If that’s the road you want to take, you’d better be prepared to see it to the end. A man can take his own will for the law only on the condition that he forfeit all rights. You set yourself outside the tribe, outside of its jurisdiction, and you are an outlaw.’
For just one moment the Captain had tested Lehto’s willpower. But Lehto’s eyes were level with the Captain’s, cold and expressionless. His gaze entertained not the slightest distraction – no diversions, no evasion.
‘At its extreme, it means your life is always on the table. Do you think you would play with those stakes, if this incident had escalated to those dimensions? Now we’re just talking about a couple of weeks’ confinement, which is nothing. But if push came to shove, and it was your will against that of the army with every security it offers you at stake, do you think you’d hold your ground?’
Lehto hadn’t actually looked at it from so high a vantage point. In his mind it was more of a private affair. ‘Long as they don’t torture you before they kill you,’ he replied, ‘then why not?’
‘Fine. If that’s how it is, listen: everything great that man has ever done has depended on that conviction. There’s no use wasting it on petty insubordination. Strength and determination come to nothing if you squander them on just being defiant – they lose all their value, and then they just look ridiculous. I have no ethical right to punish you, only a right conferred by power. You ask nothing, so you owe nothing. I don’t think your position is any more incorrect than my use of power. But if you waste your energy on stunts like this, I will consider you a fool. Aim higher. Every man’s got a shot in this game – it’s a battle of wills and the field is wide open. But winning is not easy, and it requires more intelligence than you’ve just demonstrated. Just being able to muddle through trivial incidents as they come up isn’t going to cut it. You need a broader field of vision. Find it.’
A brief silence ensued before the Captain shook himself back to reality and said, ‘Very well. You’re dismissed.’
No disciplinary measures were taken, but Lehto was entrusted with various private tasks instead, including this whole moving business. And one evening, for no apparent reason, the Captain said in passing, ‘It’s never too late to start studying, you know. There’s always more worth knowing. Start with history.’
The suggestion bore no fruit. Lehto didn’t acquire any books, but the men did learn that the Captain himself read voraciously.
Otherwise, Lehto passed the test Kaarna’s favors presented. His attitude toward the Captain himself remained gruff and non-committal, but his work was always meticulously and carefully done.
‘Makes no difference to me,’ he said flatly, tossing his pack onto the bed as if the Captain weren’t there at all.
‘Right, right. So it goes,’ the Captain replied, matching the Corporal’s work-a-day nonchalance. And with that, he resumed his game face, calling out, ‘Hurry up, then!’ and strode swiftly from the barracks.
The exhortation was unnecessary. The men were already heading out. Where to they did not know, but that was what made it exciting – not to mention the truck transport, which meant that there would be no onerous foot-march to kill their mood. Truck transport, in the Finnish army! What on earth could such extravagance possibly foretell? It seemed wildly out of keeping with the whole enterprise.