Salmonella men on Planet Porno: stories - By Yasutaka Tsutsui Page 0,45

Abandoned vehicles and trucks, empty ammunition boxes and other remnants were scattered all over the plain as far as the eye could see. I assumed that both sides had withdrawn from the front line to have their lunch. It was a lunchtime ceasefire.

I made my way back to the foot of the hill I’d raced down that morning. There, men from the catering corps were dishing out lunch, and soldiers were grouped together around large soup pots. I’d blown up my lunch box with the hand grenade, so I had no option but to join them, however disgusting the food might be. I joined a queue of soldiers lining up for their rations.

As luck would have it, the soldier in front of me was the little man I’d met on the train.

“Hey! So you survived?” he said by way of a greeting.

“Yeah, just. I was about to be shot by a Gabati just now.” I explained the whole story to the little man.

“I had a similar experience myself, once,” he replied. “It was just after I’d signed up. I was queuing up for my lunch, just like we are now. But when I looked around me, I didn’t recognize any of the other blokes. I thought I’d gone back to my own lot, but they were actually the enemy. I was going to eat lunch with the Gabatis! When I realized that, I could hardly stand upright. I actually wet myself. Oh dear. Why did I have to tell you that?”

“What happened, anyway?”

“Well, I knew the game would be up if I ran for it. So I collected my ration as normal, then I gulped it down as fast as I could and slipped away quietly.”

After eating a tasteless lunch, we had to listen to instructions from our officers. Army officers and company presidents have that much in common – they keep wanting to make speeches.

An officer sporting a colonel’s stripes stood on a low mound and started spouting forth. “As you all know, there’s going to be some serious fighting in this area tomorrow,” he said. “But as soon as that was announced, a lot of you wanted to claim your paid leave tomorrow. Shame on you!” His face turned a shade of beetroot. “What do you think war is all about?! Have you never given a thought for your country? Bloody home-loving rabble!”

I felt rather deflated. He was no better than some ogre of an office superior, shouting at his staff for refusing to work overtime. My respect for army officers plummeted.

“No one will be allowed paid leave tomorrow. You’ll all be charging the enemy. And I hope you all die in the process. Hahahahaha!” In his raging fury, the Colonel started to look slightly deranged.

The afternoon’s fighting was about to start. I sought out the officer who was now my superior and gave him a piece of my mind.

“Platoon Leader! Why did you evacuate like that without telling me? I was surrounded by the enemy and almost got killed!”

“Oh. Awfully sorry. No need to be so angry!” He smiled and patted me on the shoulder. “To make up for it, you can work here this afternoon if you like. It’s safe. Look. There’s already a pile of faulty rifles waiting for you.”

“I’ve lost my tools.”

“I’ll order some more from HQ.”

“And you’re sure this won’t be the front line next?”

“We won’t retreat any more than this. I shouldn’t think.”

I worked all afternoon with the new tools, but only managed to repair six rifles. It looked as if I’d be commuting to the front for some time yet. The war itself had been going on for more than four months now, with no sign of ending. Both sides had refused offers of support from the superpowers, while the United Nations, faced with appeals from both sides, couldn’t decide which stance to adopt. There were more pressing matters for it to be concerned with, anyway. Safe to say that such minor conflicts between neighbouring mini-states, like family feuds, were simply ignored. Whatever the case, this conflict looked likely to continue for several months to come.

It was nearly time to go home, so I started putting my tools away. The Platoon Leader appeared again, smiling as usual. “You were late this morning, weren’t you,” he said. “So I’m going to invoke the penalty clause.”

I looked at him in dismay. “P-penalty clause?”

“You’ll be on sentry duty tonight.”

“What?! You can’t make me do that!” I rammed the screwdriver into the ground. “That’s a