Monstrous Regiment

Jackrum popped the tobacco into his mouth. “You know what most of the milit’ry training is, Perks?” he went on. “All that yelling from little spitbubs like Strappi? It’s to turn you into a man who will, on the word of command, stick his blade into some poor sod just like him who happens to be wearing the wrong uniform. He’s like you, you’re like him. He doesn’t really want to kill you, you don’t really want to kill him. But if you don’t kill him first, he’ll kill you. That’s the start and finish of it. It don’t come easy without trainin’. Ruperts don’t get that trainin’, ’cos they are gentlemen. Well, upon my oath I am no gentleman, and I’ll kill when I have to, and I said I’d keep you safe and no damn rupert’s going to stop me. He gave me my discharge papers!” Jackrum added, radiating indignance. “Me! And expected me to thank him! Every other rupert I’ve served under has had the sense to write ‘Not posted here’ or ‘On extended patrol’ or something and shove it back in the mail, but not him!.”

“What was it you said to Corporal Strappi that made him run away?” said Polly, before she could stop herself.

Jackrum looked at her for a while, with no expression in his eyes. Then he gave a strange little chuckle. “Now why would a little lad like you say a little thing like that?” he said.

“Because he just vanished and suddenly some old rule means you’re back on the strength, sarge,” said Polly. “That’s why I said that little thing.”

“Hah! And there’s no such rule, either, not like that one,” said Jackrum, splashing his feet. “But ruperts never read the book of rules unless they’re trying to find a reason to hang you, so I was safe there. Strappi was scared shitless, you know that.”

“Yes, but he could have slipped away later on,” said Polly. “He wasn’t stupid. Rushing off into the night? He must’ve had something real close to run from, right?”

“Cor, that’s an evil brain you have there, Perks,” said Jackrum happily. Once again Polly had the definite feeling that the sergeant was enjoying this, just as he’d seemed pleased when she’d protested about the uniform. He wasn’t a bully like Strappi—he treated Igorina and Wazzer with something approaching fatherly concern—but with Polly and Maladict and Tonker he pushed all the time, wanting you to push back.

“It does the job, sarge,” she said.

“I just had a little tate-ah-tate with him, as it were. Quiet, like. Explained all the nasty things that can happen vees-ah-vee the confusion o’ war.”

“Like being found with his throat cut?” said Polly.

“Has been known to happen,” said Jackrum i

“I’m not going to be a sergeant! I’m going to get the job done and go home!” said Polly vehemently.

“Yes, I said that once, too.” Jackrum gri

“And what’s that, sarge?” said Polly i

Jackrum didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he reached down with a grunt and rubbed one of his feet. The corroded shilling on a string, which had lain i

“This is a bloody odd war, lad,” he said. “It’s true there’s not just Zlobenian soldiers out there. Lads say there’s uniforms they’d never seen before. We’ve kicked a lot of backsides over the years, so maybe they really have ganged up and it’s go

“Well, sarge, I think—”

“I’m glad you do, Private Perks,” said Jackrum, suddenly becoming a sergeant again. “And I think that after you’ve seen to the rupert and had a nap, you and me is going to show the lads some swordsmanship. Whatever bleedin’ war this is, sooner or later young Wazzer is going to have to use that blade he waggles about. Get going!”

Polly found Lieutenant Blouse sitting with his back to the cliff, eating scubbo out of a bowl. Igorina was packing away her medical kit, and Blouse’s ear was bandaged.

“Everything all right, sir?” she said. “Sorry I wasn’t—”

“I quite understand, Perks, you must stand your turn like the other ‘lads’,” said Blouse, and Polly heard the inverted commas clank into place. “I had a refreshing nap and the bleeding and, indeed, the shaking has quite stopped. However… I do still need a shave.”

“You want me to shave you,” said Polly, her heart sinking.

“I must set an example, Perks, but I have to say you ‘lads’ make such an effort it puts me to shame. You all seem to have faces ‘as smooth as a baby’s bottom’, I must say!”

“Yes, sir.” Polly pulled out the shaving gear and walked over to the fire, where the kettle was permanently boiling. Most of the squad was dozing, but Maladict was sitting cross-legged by the fire, doing something to his hat.

“Heard about the prisoner last night,” he said, without looking up. “I don’t think the el-tee is going to last very long, do you?”

“The who?”

“The lieutenant. From what I hear, Blouse’s probably going to have a nasty accident. Jackrum thinks he’s dangerous.”

“He’s learning, just like us.”

“Yes, but the el-tee’s supposed to know what to do. Do you think he does?”

“Jackrum’s stuck, too,” said Polly, topping up the kettle with cold water. “I think we just keep going.”

“If there’s anything there to get to,” said Maladict. He held up the shako. “What do you think?”

The words “Born To Die” had been chalked on the side of the hat, next to the packet of cigarettes.

“Very… individual,” said Polly. “Why do you smoke? It’s not very… vampire, really.”

“Well, I’m not supposed to be very vampire,” said Maladict, lighting up with a shaking hand. “It’s the sucking. I need it. I’m on edge. I’m getting the no-coffee jitters. I’m not good with woods in any case.”

“But you’re a vam—”

“Yeah, yeah, if this was crypts, no problem. But I keep thinking I’m surrounded by lots of pointy stakes. Truth is… I’m begi

“Sssh,” said Polly, as Shufti grunted in her sleep. “You can’t be,” she hissed. “You said you’d been going straight for two years!”

“Oh, bl… blur… blood?” said Maladict. “Who said anything about blood? I’m talking about coffee, dammit!”

“We’ve got plenty of tea—” Polly began.

“You don’t understand! This is about… craving. You never stop craving, you just switch it to something that doesn’t cause people to turn you into a short kebab! I need coffee!”

Why me? Polly thought. Do I have this little sign on me saying “Tell me your troubles”? “I’ll see what I can do,” she said, and hastily filled the shaving mug.

Polly hurried back with the water, ushered Blouse to a rock, and stirred up some foam. She sharpened the razor, taking as long as she dared. When he coughed impatiently she took up position, raised the razor, and prayed…