by Ava D. Dohn
* * *
Rock Company struggled up the frozen rise to the abandoned rifle pits. Alba looked back across the flat expanse to the dark shadows of the distant hills some five leagues away. She grumbled to herself about having to make the forced march, surrendering hard won ground to the night.
The army had pressed east, driving the enemy off the swampy plain and into those hills. Her company was within two miles of their objective when orders came for them to pull back to a series of hillocks a little over three leagues east of the river - a line of low hills and knolls that ran north to south for about twenty leagues. The southern-most part of these hills was where Merna’s company was overrun some weeks earlier.
As her company crawled into the rifle pits, orders went down the line to dig in. Disgruntled cries could be heard about the slogger - foot soldier - always being the most abused of the beasts of burden on the battlefield. A shout went up from one unhappy trooper. “Hey, Captain, do we get an extra ration of oats when we’re done?”
Alba, in no happy mood herself, called back, “A mule earns extra rations. How about gettin’ down the hill for a little picket duty?” She looked around at the others and asked, “Any more of you mules dissatisfied with your jobs?” No one answered. Alba ordered two more unfortunates to follow their comrade.
The work went on. By late morning Rock Company was hunkered down, preparing its midday meal. Alba stood on the rise staring to the east when Sergeant Kfir ambled up to her. He, too, stopped and gazed toward the far hills. “Just got news from Colonel Xurao at headquarters. Says we’re to dig in deep and stay low.”
He took a step forward, rubbing his hands to warm them. “Heard the whole line has been secured on these hills.” Scanning the gray, snowy sky, he mused, “Looks like this is our new front line, Capt’n. They say our old line’s been thinned way down. Only got a few skirmishers and Marine companies to make things look occupied.”
Alba huffed, “We lost twelve people pushing out that far. I was preparing for the next stage of battle to get those foothills. Now we’re back here on this god-awful knob, freezing our asses off. At least there was scrub shelter where we were and scrap wood to make some hidden fires.”
Kfir nodded in agreement. “Also heard tell the main army’s diggin' in on the other side of the river. They’re choppin’ down the forest and corduroying the roads on this side of the river. Looks to me like the brass is either plannin’ for a big advance or a mighty hasty retreat.”
Sputtering sarcastically, Alba asked, “Why would anyone waste time corduroying the roads? Everything’s frozen! The ice must be at least four inches thick. Even our tanks can cross this sink hole with ease.”
Alba had good reason to be so sarcastic. For three days, northeast winds had hammered the army, stalling any advance. The temperature had dropped into the teens Fahrenheit, staying there. And this last night, when they withdrew back across the wind-swept plain, it hovered around zero. Right now the captain was more concerned about hypothermia and frostbite than fighting some battle.
She called down to her immediate lieutenant, “Have the people throw canvases over the rifle pits. Huddle up close and fire up the plasma heaters. Make sure everyone takes care to look out for each other. Keep checking for frostbite.”
Slapping her hands against her arms, Alba shared her concerns with Kfir. “If my kids don’t get warmer clothing, I’m afraid I’ll lose ‘em to this weather. What kind of freak storm is this anyway? It’s only early fall. Four days ago it was fifty degrees warmer than it is right now.”
Kfir, dancing as much as Alba was to keep warm, lifted his nose into the air as he scanned the ragged sky. He sucked in a breath then let it go, his reddened cheeks puffing out as he did. “I don’t claim to be an expert, but I’d say this freaky weather is gonna get freakier.”
“How so?” Alba’s concern was evident.
Kfir fell into his comfortable drawl. “Well Capt’n, I reckon there’s gonna be a draa-maa-tic change a comin’. In a day or so we’ll be swimming in mud, torrential rains and all.”
He looked down on the soldiers hurrying to set up the canvases, warning, “If I were them, I’d worry more ‘bout drownin’ in those holes than freezin’ to death.”
Kfir’s bit of weather forecasting didn’t lighten Alba’s spirits. “That’s really great! What do you suggest I do, tell my people not to worry, that in a day or two their frozen corpses will sink into the goo?”
The sergeant eyed the captain and then broke into a grin. “No, but I think it wise to have ‘em prepare for a flood.” He pointed across to the east and then at the encampment. “Your children need some rest. We’ve got time before whatever happens, happens. My suggestion is to keep a nose on the weather and when you notice a change get those kids of yours busy preparin’ for rain.”
He looked toward the river. “I think others feel the same way I do. That’s probably the reason the brass is havin’ those roads built. You know, Capt’n, if this ice goes south and we’re attacked, the enemy will have a hell of a time getting at us - us bein’ in the middle of a giant swamp and all.”
Pointing back toward the distant hills, Kfir continued, “The brass knows somethin’ and it ain’t lettin’ on to us what it is, but I’ll tell ya this: We were pulled out and made to do an all night march - not just our company, or even our brigade, but the whole damn line. Awful dangerous thing to do considerin’ the cold and storm. Could a’ got a lot of people hurt or killed. And in the rush, we left a ton of supplies behind.” Then shaking his head, he offered, “No ma'am, doin’ things like that just ain’t normal.”
He touched his finger to his head. “I figure it this way: Somebody believes the enemy is gonna’ make some kind of a major attack and real soon. They don’t want him to know we’ve pulled back to this place. That’s why they told us to dig in and stay low. That’s also why we were told to leave those gravity trucks for those stayin’ behind, knowin’ the weather is gonna’ warm up, so the troops holding the line there can get out when the ice’s gone.”
Alba didn’t ask for further explanation. She hurried down to the lieutenant. “I want you to send a squad back for munitions and supplies for the company. Take four of the half-deuces. Better to have too much stuff than not enough. Get all the munitions you can. When you’re done, come to my command tent.” She turned to Kfir and sent him down the line to notify the junior lieutenants of a meeting.
Walking back up the rise, Alba peered into the east. She thought about just how vulnerable they would be to an armored attack if the ice remained. It would take less than half an hour for fast tanks to cross the vast, flat expanse in front of her. She lowered her head. “I hope you’re right about the weather, Kfir… I hope you’re right.”