“Have we won?” asks Kemal, removing a branch from his back.
“Glory be to God. Nurredin was about to call a retreat, but it looks like we’ll be chasing the infidels to Kut now.”
“Kut?”
“Toward Baghdad.”
Survival is a strange thing, he thinks. Not as triumphant as he had imagined. Not a thing separate from death but akin to it. And though Kemal is still living, death permeates his every breath. Death floats in the material world, hiding in every sight, sound and smell, until everything is perceived in relation to it.
“Where’s Tekin?” Kemal asks.
Mehmet says nothing.
“Hüsnü?” asks Kemal.
Mehmet points toward the river. “He’s probably combing through the sea of corpses for a new pair of boots,” he says.
Kemal struggles to his feet, still carrying his coat of leaves and branches. Everywhere the ground is covered by bodies fossilized in the mud. Vagrant limbs stick out like weeds. A swarm of flies descends upon friend and foe alike, but the sight is nothing compared to the stench.
Kemal weaves through the mud, taking care not to look down at the human debris, lest his nausea gets the better of him. He presses Lucine’s pale blue handkerchief to his nose, but the smell gets stronger as he nears the river. Suddenly he doubles over, vomiting over his own boots.
“You look like a vomiting bush,” a humorless voice says. Kemal looks up to find Hüsnü standing over him.
“Glad to see you too,” Kemal says.
“Seen Tekin?” asks Hüsnü. His eyes continue scanning the ground.
“No, I just woke up. Mehmet hasn’t seen him either.”
“Humph! Of course he hasn’t. That little * lice has been prostrating himself before Allah all morning. He doesn’t even pause to help me look for Tekin.”
“He was washing himself, not praying,” Kemal says.
“That’s the only other thing that ass giver is good for: ablution.”
“That’s not true. He’s a brave fighter. We all are,” Kemal says.
“Go and join him then if you’re so fond of him. I’m looking for Tekin.”
Kemal does not respond. “The last time I saw him, it was through my scope. He was right over there. In fact, you both were.”
“Yeah? What the hell were you doing staring at us when you’re supposed to be shooting at them?” Hüsnü steps toward him, his eyes seething with anger. “It must be nice to shoot the enemy from three hundred yards away, hiding in a bush, while the rest of us fight tooth to tooth.”
The bastard. “You know what’s nice? What’s nice is shooting blindly into the dusty unknown, with your comrades flanked on both sides, so no one need take responsibility for ending a life. That’s what’s nice.” Kemal presses his finger into Hüsnü’s chest.
“Fuck responsibility,” Hüsnü says, stepping forward so that some of his spittle lands on Kemal’s chin. “We’re the ones who get shot back at while you hide in a bush.”
“You’re the only brave soldier. Is that it, Hüsnü?” says Kemal. “Brave Hüsnü, who kills the British but fails to save his friends.”
“Shut up, ” says Hüsnü, shoving Kemal back with both palms.
“No, you shut up,” Kemal pushes him back. His hands land higher on Hüsnü’s body, near his neck, and with greater impact than he intended. Hüsnü falls backward before springing back up. Once on his feet, he swings at Kemal’s jaw. Kemal feels nothing except rage. He strikes at Hüsnü’s ear and knees him in the groin. Hüsnü stays on his knees panting, then lunges at Kemal’s calves and wrestles him to the ground. The two soldiers are soon covered in mud, their arms and legs struggling against being pinned by the other. Kemal ducks his head from under Hüsnü’s arm and manages to pull away. They continue panting for breath a few feet from one another. Kemal eventually lies down on his back. Gulping for air, he turns to Hüsnü who is holding a hand to his bloody ear.
“The rest of us are shit, right?” Kemal says. “Mehmet for his prayers and me for my tears. Ass givers and donkey fuckers.”
There is a long pause as Hüsnü stares at him with a blank look on his face. “And * lice,” he says finally, his upper lip curving mischievously the way it does just before he smiles.
The two lock eyes, then burst out into laughter.
“Let’s go find Tekin,” says Hüsnü, extending his hand.
Kemal nods and makes to get to his feet when he sees Mehmet the Babe approaching.
“There is no need to find Tekin,” says Mehmet.
“Why? Have you found him?”
Mehmet nods his head. “I’ve just come back from the infirmary,” he says. He does not look at either one of them.
“Is he badly hurt?” asks Hüsnü.
Mehmet the Babe looks past Hüsnü, directly at Kemal. “No,” he says. “He is not hurt. He’s gone to be with his maker.”