The Scent of a Woman
Camp Sherwood was the lap of luxury. My company was billeted in actual buildings. They were old wooden barrackss and the men were still in open squad bays. But they were warm and dry. You could walk around barefoot on the floor without squishing your toes in mud. We had actual beds with sheets and pillows. And best of all, there was hot water for shaving and showering. My room still doubled as my office but it was twice as big as the tent I had been living in. First Sergeant Cochrane “found” a spare sheet for me to set up as a curtain between my work space near the door and my bed at the back.
We were still only getting two hot meals a day since at lunch we were usually out training. But the food was much better. The night of our arrival we were treated to steaks, baked potatoes and steamed vegetables. Of course it was still the Army so the steaks were cooked a little past well done and the vegetables were soggy. But compared to the mystery meals of unidentifiable food we had been eating at the front, it was like manna from heaven.
We were fed well because we were burning it off. Every day was a footmarch, at least five kilometers and many days up to fifteen or twenty klicks. We marched or ran everywhere from the mess hall to the weapons ranges to the classrooms where we were lectured on tactics. Some of the men were hobbling and limping after a while but no one dropped out.
We received a lot of new equipment as part of the new doctrine. Our rifles were traded for carbines that were shorter and about half a kilogram lighter. Our bayonets were replaced with knives with heavy hand guards which were better suited for close fighting. Grenade sacks replaced some of our ammunition pouches. The machinegun platoon received newer lighter models.
There was one other new bit of hardware to support us. In our third week at Camp Sherwood, we marched out fifteen kilometers to a large field flanked by light woods.. An array of wooden targets was set up from a hundred meters out to about eight hundred meters. Patel and Cochrane took charge of getting the packs lined up neatly and getting the men into the bleachers facing the targets. I walked over to the officer sitting patiently in the nearby staff car to report in.
As I approached the car I realized the officer was a woman. She stepped out of the car as I neared. She wore the insignia of the Armor Regiment, of course. Her dark brown hair was in a tight no-nonsense bun beneath her garrison cap and she wore no makeup.
I saluted smartly. “Captain Rudko, Storm Detachment, 327th Infantry Regiment, reporting.”
“Captain Olga Krupinski.” She returned my salute and gave me a curious stare.
“Is there something wrong?”
“Have we met before, Captain Rudko?”
“No. I’ve never worked with walkers before.”
“Strange. For some reason you look familiar and I feel like I know you.”
“Maybe we knew each other in another life.”
“What makes you say that?” She said sharply, giving me another curious look.
“A little joke, Captain. Obviously not funny. Shall we get on with the demonstration?” We walked together over to the bleachers.
“Detachment, ATTENTION!” bellowed Cochrane as we approached. One hundred and twenty five men jumped to their feet.
“AT EASE! Take your seats.” Krupinski had a surprisingly strong voice for such a petite woman.
“The women of the Armor Regiment have proudly supported the infantry. But our walkers were vulnerable and we had to keep our distance from the enemy. That has changed. Gemtlemen, I present to you the Locomotive Gun Carriage Mark IV.” She turned to the field and blew three loud blasts from a whistle.
From the woods came the roar of engines starting. A moment later four walkers emerged from the woods, two on each side of the field. They were much different from the Mark III walkers. The Mark IVs had six legs instead of four. The older models were tall enough for a man to walk underneath the main body without stooping. These were about a meter and a half off the ground. They looked remarkably like giant mechanized beetles.
The Mark IVs lumbered across the field and formed up abreast of each other. They fired sponson mounted heavy machineguns at the nearer targets and hull mounted cannons at the further ones. It was an impressive display of firepower.
When they were finished, three walkers headed back in to the woods while one moved towards the bleachers. It stopped a few feet from Krupinski and shut down. The belly hatch opened and the seven crewwomen dropped down. They lined up next to their walker and stood at ease.
Krupinski launched into a briefing about the capabilities and characteristics of the LGC Mark IV but I doubted many of my men were paying attention. Krupinski and the walker crew were the first women we had seen in a long time.
I was more than a little intrigued by Olga Krupinski. Her reaction at our meeting had me wondering if she was having similar experiences to mine. But I had no idea how to broach the matter with her. There were strict rules about socializing with the women soldiers of the Armor Regiment.
After her talk, Krupinski turned to the line of women. They snapped to attention and re-entered their walker. It started up and a moment later lumbered off into the woods to join its companions. I walked Krupinski back to her staff car while Patel and Cochrane got the men formed up for the march back to the barracks.
We exchanged salutes but before I turned to go back she spoke in a low voice. “Meet me at midnight tonight at building 272.”
I paused and nodded my head slightly in acknowledgement. She climbed into her car and I went back to my soldiers.
Being the commanding officer meant I did not have to sneak out of my own barracks. I simply told the soldier on sentry duty I couldn’t sleep and was taking a walk.
At a few minutes to midnight I arrived at building 272, an unoccupied barracks. There was no light visible from outside. I tried the doorknob at the front door and was unsurprised that it was locked. A few seconds later the door popped open.
“Get in quickly,” hissed a voice.
I slipped inside and shut the door behind me. I could make out Krupinski’s silhouette in the dim light filtering in through the windows.
“Follow me,” she commanded and moved away. The layout was identical to my own building and I realized we were heading to the officer room in the back.
“Shut the door and stuff this into the bottom gap.” She thrust a rolled up towel into my hands. I complied while she lit a couple of candles on the desk. A blanket across the window blocked the glow from the candlelight.
She was still in her uniform, but her hair had been released from the bun and flowed about her shoulders. “Some of the women use these buildings for romantic liaisons. They’re kept locked but there are ways in.”
“So we’re here to get romantic?”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Rudko,” she said with a slight smile. “I just want to talk.”
“So talk.”
“Why did you make that comment about knowing each other in another life?”
I decided to take a chance. “Have you ever thought this world we’re in doesn’t seem quite real?”
She gasped. “You’ve had that feeling, too?”
“At first it was just a few little things. But recently something happened that made me question everything.” I told her about Flanagan and the photographs. I did not mention the dream where I beheaded Flanagan.
“A month ago I would have called you crazy,” she said when I finished. “But then I started having strange dreams. You were in them though at the time I didn’t know who you were. When I saw you this morning, I realized you were literally the man of my dreams. I’ve never met you before, but I have this strong feeling that I knew you and that we were close.”
Olga leaned in and kissed me lightly on the lips. She smelled faintly of sandalwood and jasmine. The scent stirred a hint of a memory, something that eluded my attempts to recall. But I had no doubt that I had kissed this woman with this scent before.
“I’m sorry, Rudko. I shouldn’t have done that.” She looked at me nervously.
“Please, call me Peter. I think you’re right about us being close.”
I leaned in and kissed her. I now knew for sure that my memories of Tanya were a lie. They paled in comparison to what I was feeling with Olga. We tumbled onto the bed while shedding our uniforms.
As we dressed afterwards I said, “Tell me about your dreams.”
“We were soldiers in a different army. Most of the dreams were variations on what we just did.” I couldn’t tell for sure by the dim candlelight but I think Olga blushed.
“What about the other dreams?”
“I’d rather not talk about them.”
“Were we doing brutal things to people?”
She wouldn’t look me in the eyes.
“Tell me, Olga.” I grabbed her arm and she winced in pain. “I have to know.”
She pulled her arm free. “All right. I’ll tell you. Yes, we would be torturing captives. I think we were at war and they were enemy soldiers. But we weren’t just hurting them to get information. We both enjoyed it.”
I told her about the dream with Flanagan. “I don’t know what it means but our dreams seem to be connected.”
“So what do we do?”
“Nothing for now. We go along with what’s happening here and now. We don’t want to tip our hand to whoever is behind all this. And we look for clues as to what’s really going on.”
“Agreed. But I want to see you again.”
“Can we meet here again?”
“I’ll let you know when and where we’ll meet.” Olga gave me a quick peck on the cheek. “Now get out of here. I’ll clean up and hide our tracks.”
We met twice more at Camp Sherwood. Both times I found a note on my bed after returning from a day of training. The notes gave a time and a building number. I did end up sneaking out so no one would get curious about my nocturnal activities. We never met at the same place twice. Besides the strenuous lovemaking sessions we also talked. Mainly we speculated on what was going on and how to find out more. We could not come up with any good theories or plans. But we were together and just being with Olga was worth the risk of getting caught. We never discussed the meaning of our dreams. I don’t think either one of us was ready to consider the type of people we were in them.
Our last meeting was bittersweet. It was a day we both knew was coming but that didn’t make it any easier.
“We finished our training,” I said as we were getting dressed. “We leave tomorrow to rejoin the regiment then we’ll be at the front within a fortnight.”
“I know, darling. My walker company will be leaving for the front as well. The word is there will be a major offensive soon. We’ll both probably be in the thick of it.”
“I wish we had more time together.”
“So do I, Peter. I finally meet the man of my dreams and now I don’t want to lose you.”
“So what do we do?”
“We follow our orders, Captain Rudko. You were right. We shouldn’t draw attention to ourselves until we have a better idea what’s going on. And so, my love, we go our separate ways for now. But you’re not getting rid of me that easily.” She gave me a mischievous smile. “I will find you later.”
“Be careful at the front, Olga. I couldn’t bear to lose you, either.”
We finished dressing, shared one long last lingering kiss, then went our separate ways.
I can't wait to see the end of this. This is brilliant!
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