The Scarlet Bastards - A Company Soldier

The Scarlet Bastards - A Company Soldier - Part II

"Size?" asked a one-eyed naique with a set of grimy corporal's stripes who was scarred across his face and missing three fingers on his left hand and both of his ears. The awful image of that leering butchered face with its single eye grew more horrible as I stood in mute contemplation. "Speak the fuck up, jawan!" he snapped.

"Medium," I stuttered.

MacShaka idled up behind me as the naique and an assistant began to throw a pile of clothing into a stained kitbag. "He's become a right torn-faced lad after some of Campat Gavaskar's badmashes jumped his patrol two years ago and cut him up for fun. They didnae kill him; they kept him alive because they ken what will happen if they kill a jawan. But they might as well hae cut the lad's throat."

The horrible looking jawan returned, dropped a kitbag on the table in front of me and snapped, "Get the fuck out. Next!"

Tail tucked, I moved aside for Fawzi, and found myself beside Usman who was fingering his issued Khyber knife. If you've never seen one of the horrific weapons, imagine a long knife, nearly 60 centimetres in length with a short handle at the end. They were plain looking but brimming with lethality. Usman Khan smiled as he held it and I wondered at its use.

"That," MacShaka beamed as he pointed towards the weapon, "and your hatchet are yer best friends when the bullets run out. Bù dào huáng hé xīn bù sǐ," he added and the Chinese girls nodded solemnly. "Never give up."

I shivered in the cold, my eyes slowly moving to the grubby ruffians watching us. Bearded, their hair long, lank and greasy, and their uniforms filthy and faded; they were a terrifying bunch who must have struck consternation into even the most stalwart of enemies. MacShaka followed my gaze, his thumbs hooked in his belt. Our eyes met for a moment; his were cold and cruel though I wondered if there was a spark of empathy there for the unfortunate gweilo now encircled by the wolves of the Legion – a potential plaything for bullies and cutthroats alike with no more to look forward to in the next few years than combating a misery of Sisiphusian proportions.

"I ken that it must be a wee bit much for ye," he said conversationally as he pulled out his pipe. "I've no' been tae Canada, but I've been told it's a nice place. Too nice for a gomeril such as yerself tae leave it tae play the warrior in the colonies. I'm no' sure what would hae made ye leave, and I dinnae really care either, but now that ye're here, ye're one o' mine, Lord help me," he added as he crossed himself, "and I'll dae what I can tae see ye live long enough tae gae back hame and tell yer friends what a fuckin' idiot ye were."

I mumbled thanks and he waved it off. "There are a lot o' people who will help in yer contubernium when ye join them. A contubernium," he said as I opened my mouth to ask, "is your section. Eight jawans led by an havildar with a naique as second in command, 10 in total.  Four contuberniums make up the decuria by the way," he added. "Ask them and learn the ways o' this place." He looked around the wide river vallis, empty of activity – a lifeless desolation that I found unimaginable after the energetic activities of the Okanagan. "They're the ones that will help keep ye alive the most. Listen tae them, lad, listen tae them closely." MacShaka walked away, and for the first time, I felt a little comfort in my situation.

After receiving our kit, MacShaka led us to a pair of draughty tents on the far side of the cantonment.

"Here's hame fer you three," he said as he motioned myself, Fawzi and Usman in, kicking aside a massive insect resembling a gorged cockroach. "The rest o' yer contubernium will be back soon enough. I'm sure we can find ye a task or two tae keep you keelies out o' trouble," he added as he left to take the girls to another tent.

We located our empty cots, predictably those closest to the tent flaps, and unloaded our kit bags.

We laid out our clothing in growing horror. It was threadbare and filthy; a better symbol of Klondikecorp's beggarly corporate army could hardly be found.