Sand in the Wind by Robert Roth Page A

to the top of his mouth. Saving the syrup for last, he spooned out the pears, surprised at how delicious they tasted. The can was a third full of syrup. He lifted it up and let the thick liquid flow down his raw throat. Never had anything tasted so sweet.
    Only a tip of the sun remained above the mountains when Hotel Company crossed the road to set-in. The company perimeter bordered the road on one edge and the river on the opposite edge. Second Platoon had the quarter of the circle adjacent to the river. Harmon stood talking to Tony 5 near the lip of a foxhole Chalice was digging. Sergeant Kovacs walked up and tapped Harmon on the shoulder. “The Skipper wants us to send out an ambush.”
    “Let me guess who’s got it,” Harmon said disgustedly.
    “Alpha.”
    “That’s what I thought.”
    Tony 5 cut in. “We won’t have enough men to stand guard if we send out an ambush.”
    “That’s what I told him, but he said to put three men in each foxhole instead of four. He said we’ve been getting too much sleep anyway.” Kovacs looked across the river and added nonchalantly, “If you want to, you can sandbag.”
    Harmon nodded.
    As Kovacs walked away, Tony 5 said to Chalice, “We’re gonna sandbag this ambush. That means we’re all gonna stay inside the perimeter. Don’t make any mistakes over the radio or the shit’ll hit the fan. You’ve got second watch, two hours and fifteen minutes again.”
    “Professor,” Tony 5 whispered.
    Chalice sat up. The cool night air quickly cleared his head. “My watch?”
    “Yeah. I’m gonna sleep right in back of the hole. Remember, we’re supposed to be on an ambush, so be careful with the radio. If you have to say anything, use your head; but try to wake me first.”
    Chalice picked up his rifle and slid into the hole. He felt different than he had while standing watch on Hill 65 — more alone. But he wasn’t scared. There was something peaceful and reassuring about the black silence that surrounded him. It was soon broken by quiet, cautious footsteps from within the perimeter. Chalice turned, unable to see the silhouette until it was two steps from him.
    The figure squatted and whispered, “Professor, everything okay?”
    “Yeah. Kovacs?”
    “Yeah. Don’t make any mistakes with the radio.”
    “I won’t.”
    “If you see some cat walking around in black PJ’s, don’t wish him good night, just blow him away.”
    “Haven’t seen anything like that yet.”
    “Don’t worry, he’s there. It ain’t often you see Charlie, but he sees you every day.”
    Kovacs remained silent for a few seconds, and Chalice finally asked, “Sarge, you ever kill any of them?”
    “Quite a — What the fuck kinda question is that? Whata you think we’re doing with these Gooks, playing tag?”
    “I just wanted —”
    “I know what you wanted — to know what it’s like. Well it ain’t no big thing. It’s one of the rules.    .   .   . Listen Professor, you seem all right most of the time, but I ain’t sure. I’ll give you some dope you won’t find in those books you’re humpin’. I’ve done some movin’. Every place I hit, the rules are different. The trick is to learn the rules before they learn you. Nam ain’t no bargain, but the rules are a snap. There ain’t but one: Kill them before they kill you. And there’s a catch, too: The cocksucker who breaks the rule don’t always pay the price. Don’t ever let me think there’s a chance I’ll have to pay it for you.” As Kovacs stood up, he grabbed Chalice’s shoulder to show he wasn’t angry. “I’m gonna crash. Take it easy   .   .   .   and be careful with the radio.”
    The company was ready to move out a few minutes after dawn. Kovacs called Second Platoon together. “Here’s the story. We’re gonna move down the road one kilometer, then turn off to the left and head for the base of the mountains. That’s about three more klicks. We’ll move along the mountains until the whole column is