"That was a good time at the inn last night," grinned Letowski as Wulff chuckled gruffly in agreement.
"I bet that Irina girl can do more than pour vodka and sing," said Altmann.
"The balalaika player was good too," offered Wulff.
"That must have been her grandfather," Altmann glared at him awkwardly.
"Where were you Gregorsz?" asked Letowski. "Why didn't you join us?"
"He went to bed early," Altmann winked. "He's a good boy." The comment was a joke but the look in Timo's eye said more, as if he knew some sort of secret. Gregorsz said nothing, stifling his insistence to know what he knew with a gripping fear of letting on. A new sweat came over him, in addition to the summer heat. Timo played a card and adjusted the pebbles in the dirt that he had arranged as an abacus to keep score.
"I wonder if Irina's bush is as red as her head?" Letowski contemplated with his continuing grin.
"I like the little blonde that wanders around here," remaked Wulff. It was all that Gregorsz could do to keep from flinching.
"Yes, she is a beauty," Altmann agreed. "And young too. A virgin. That Irina has been around I'm sure." Timo adjusted the scoring pebbles as Letowski played a jack. "But we wouldn't touch her now, would we?" Altmann continued as Wulff played his scoreless card seemingly oblivious to the guile wrapped in the comment. "Dodak would have us shot." Timo looked at Gregorsz and Gregorsz looked back at Timo in silence. Nothing more was said about the matter.
After the game there was mess of more chicken borscht. The word going around was that one of the farmers down the road got into a blaze with one of the French colonels over raiding his henhouse and had to be restrained. As the shadows grew long the men were assigned to cleanup, which for Gregorsz meant dish detail. He couldn't wait for inspection to let out and the sun to set so he could be free again to find her soothing embrace. He still dreamed of her name. Perusing the list in his mind, he scratched 'Irina' from it. Polina ... Karina ... Katya ... Natasha ... Yevgenya ...
"Gun team 5, take watch!" ordered Dodak. "Team 6, relieve them at midnight!"
It couldn't be. It should have been teams 3 and 4 to watch. Dodak had mixed the sequence! He would not be able to see her that night. He could try again the next, but if he couldn't keep this date would she bother to show for another? His heart wrenched in anxiety. He cursed the army and cursed the war, but then realized that the army and the war brought him to her. Altmann and Letowski had a nap before their shift but there was no way that Gregorsz would be able to get any shuteye. He was far too tense. He cleaned his musket to pass the time. The campfire glowed orange in the smooth sheen of his bayonet.
Nothing could have been more uneventful than watch. He was assigned a furlong staked out at the side of the road along past the house garden. When he reached the stake he met up with Wulff, reported all clear, turned and strolled back to the other stake where he did the same with Letowski. Looking up at the starry sky - the same sky that he had shared with her the night before - made his heart ache. Now and then he would stop for a sip of water from his canteen. Wulff liked to smoke. He would offer a puff and about once an hour or so Gregorsz would accept. The northeast horizon carved a black edge into the orange glow of dawn. Soon there would be daylight.
"Smoke?" asked Wulff.
"Na," Gregorsz declined.
There was a commotion down the road, a muffled shout. The two soldiers pricked their ears up for more information. There was another shout, then a wail.
"Was that a woman?" Gregorsz contemplated aloud.
"Altmann!" Wulff called out down the road and waited for the reply. There was none. "Timo!" he called again. The next sound was definitely a woman's cry.
"Something's going on," said Gregorsz.
"Come let's check it out," urged Wulff.
"I can't leave my watch. You have to go meet Altmann."
"Timo's not answering, then I shouldn't go alone. He could be in trouble," Wulff argued. Gregorsz teetered in indecision a moment.
"All right," Gregorsz relented and the two of the hurried along the road into the village.
Dawn was just breaking and the buildings cast long shadows upon one another across the intersecting roads. Right in the middle was a heap. As they approached they made out the form of a body cast fetal in the dirt with its back to them. Her legs were bare and one of her slippers was missing. Her dress was tangled about her hips and her arms were folded across her naked breasts. Her skin was smeared with dirt and her disheveled dark waves of hair covered her face. As Gregorsz knelt over her in the dim daylight he saw that it was the color of rusted iron. He thought she might be dead but then was relieved to notice the tremble in her arm as she sniffled.
"It's Irina from the inn," Wulff identified her as he peered over Gregorsz' shoulder.
"Go get an officer," Gregorsz told him as he removed his own coat to cover the girl. There were voices down the road. They looked back and saw the shadows approaching in the dust.
"I think someone already did."
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