Chapter 9We marched through the day, kicking up clouds as we trudged along. I felt the dust clogging my throat. As I sweated heavily into my uniform, I felt the grit underneath and bared my teeth. A bath would do nicely. The road curved to the left and before I heard it, I could smell it. As the map indicated, we'd arrived at a small stream. Here we would rest.
“Let's get off the road,” I said to the Sergeant, who turned around and waved them off. “Set up a guard and let the men drink and wash in shifts.”
Popov saluted crisply. “Yes sir.”
Half a dozen men positioned themselves behind the trees, carbines at the ready. They licked their dry lips. Popov brought a canteen full of fresh water to each one in turn. Each man drank deeply, allowing water to pour down his chin and onto his tunic.
