Batu Page 3

It was sweltering inside the passenger car. Batu stepped into the vestibule between cars to cool off. Bogd and Taikar followed. Curled up on the floor like a sleeping dog was nurse Jama. Batu could hear her sobbing. He looked into the next car. He could see Russians laughing and drinking vodka. He immediately stepped back before anyone noticed him. Each man looked at the other. They knew what had happened. The Russians had raped nurse Jama. Bogd and Taikar stared to draw their knives. “Don’t be fools,” Batu said. “What kind of Mongolian are you?” Bogd and Taikar replied. Where’s your honor? Batu spoke sternly. “I am your leader. Don’t ever forget that. I will plan, then we will act. That is the Mongolian way.” Bogd and Taikar could barely contain their anger. “Yes. Yes. But the Mongolian way is to win. “Of course,” Batu shot back.

  “Here dear Mongolian sister. Come with us. Strong arms helped nurse Jama up. She smiled slightly as she rubbed tears from her eyes. What a beauty: Batu thought raven black hair that he wanted to run his fingers through. He caught himself. What was he thinking? Was he no better than the Russians?

  They entered the passenger car filled with Mongolian soldiers. Most were sleeping, a few were talking quietly to each other. “Get those soldiers off that seat Batu ordered. Bogd and Taikar pulled two sleeping soldiers off their seat. “Find another place,” Batu ordered.

  “Here dear sister; stretch out here. “Blankets, damn it.” Bogd and Taikar roughly pulled two blankets off some sleeping Mongols. “An emergency”, Batu explained. Grumbling they went back to sleep. Batu lay the blankets on nurse Jama. He let a little bit of her raven hair show.

  “You were right Batu,” Dogd and Taikar said. “First take care of our dear sister, now we should awaken all the men, then seek revenge.”

  “No. No. You will never tell anyone what has happened to our dear nurse Jama. That is her secret for life. We will seek revenge in the Mongolian way, with stealth, with cunning.

  “Awaken some of the men. Have them go from car to car. Collect as much vodka as you can. Bogd and Taikar hesitated. “Go now. Do as I say.”

  Batu looked out the window, at the ever falling snow. If only he were in his warm ger fucking his wife. But no, he was on a Russian train heading west while Mongolian soldiers slept peacefully, even the nurse.

  “Vodka. Vodka.” Batu shouted. Even his car must contribute. “It’s an order. All vodka is to be confiscated.” Batu kicked several soldiers. “Did you hear me. Vodka.” Men grumbled, but passed bottles, many of them half empty or less. Batu put them in a blanket, pulled the corners together, and made a sack.

  Batu suspected that the wrestler Khuradai was a holdout. Anyway Batu already had enough vodka. “Khuraldai, when I ask I want you to select some of our strongest men. Do nothing now. I just want them ready. For doing this you can keep your vodka.”

  Soon Bogd and Taikar came through the passenger car door. They also had vodka bottles wrapped in blankets. Batu took Bogd and Taikar aside. “Friends, I chose you because you speak a little Russian. Pick a few men. Go into the Russian car. Bullshit them. Announce that it is the Mongolian feast of the Black Horse, and that we have celebrated and now we wish them to celebrate make no mention of nurse Jama. Celebrate a little with them, but don’t drink too much. Remain sober.”

  Bogd and Taikar looked at Batu. Was he crazy? There was no feast of the Black Horse. And what about nurse Jama? Was this the way to get even? Batu put his hands on their shoulders. “Brothers, I know what you are thinking. I will not fail you.” “Well, we’ve trusted you this far,” Bogd and Taikar said resigned.

  Bogd and Taikar stepped into the Russian car. “Celebrate Comrades. Celebrate our feast of the Black Horse. Here comrades. Vodka. Drink. Drink.” Bogd and Taikar walked down the aisle, passing out Vodka. The Mongols smiled and laughed: but inside their bellies the Blue Wolf* lurked.

  After distributing the vodka, drinking toasts, but spilling much, the Mongols stumbled out of the Russian car. “Well done,” Batu complemented as Bogd, Taikar, and the others stood before him on steady feet. “Now go through our cars with wrestler Khuraldai and select some of our strongest men. Tell them to be ready in two hours. I have attended to this car already. Go now. Make you way.”

  “Strong men. Wrestlers who have placed in the Naadam festival**.” Barrel chested men raised their arms. “Here, my friend. Here.” “You are all to assemble in Batu’s car in two hours. “By the way,” one of the wrestlers shouted. “Why did you take our vodka asshole?” “I can’t tell you.” “You drank it. That’s why.” “Horseshit.” “No, he’s going to sell it,” shouted another. And another, “I’ll show you how strong I am when I find out where you hoarded it.”

  “Enough. Assemble in Batu’s car in two hours.” “You’d better be there too, not hiding in a corner maybe. For sure you never placed in a wrestling contest.”

  The train rocked along. Sparks from the flanges of the wheels shot out in the night. Time passed. Two hours passed. Thick set men got up and headed toward Batu’s car. They crowded in, standing in the aisle. Batu stood in the middle of them he spoke quietly but clearly. “Brothers, sons, of Genghis Khan, here are some vodka bottles.” “Yeah, give them back to us.”

  Batu signaled for quiet. “Soon we will all file into the Russian car. Most of the Russian soldiers will be drunk or asleep. For those that are awake, you will offer them vodka.”

  “What is this horseshit? The vodka is ours.”

  “Listen. I am your khan.”

  “No. You are the vodka thief.’

  “Pipe down. Show some respect,” a thick-set Mongol said.

  Batu spoken again, “Upon my signal you will seize the Russians and take their wallets. You will then take the money out of the wallets, and throw the wallets away. You may take the remaining vodka for yourselves. You will hustle the Russians into the vestibule between their car and ours, then throw them out of the doors.”

  “That is the way to talk,” said a champion wrestler, “Spoken like a Mongol of old.”

  Batu ordered, “Enter the Russian car now. Act as if you are friendly.” The Mongols quickly entered the Russian car. Two of them, although they had been given no instructions to do so, stood guard at the opposite passenger car door, making sure that no one would come through. Most of the Russians were in a drunken sleep. The few that were awake were cheerfully given vodka.

  “Now brothers. Now,” Batu shouted. The outside doors of the between cars vestibule were flung open. Russians were jerked from their seats, grabbed by their collars, their belts, and their balls. Their wallets were yanked out, the money taken out, then they were flung out onto the snow.

  Screams were stifled with thick hands around throats. Feet kicked in the air. Hands clutched. But it as all to no avail. Bodies were flung out the doors. Russian soldiers landed in the snow, a few still clutching vodka bottles. Some still dreaming, dreams that were now nightmares.

  Batu spoke, “Take the money and hand it to Bogd and Taikar. Clear this car of vodka bottles, of coats, of wallets, of everything. Now quickly, quickly, all of you back to your cars. Say nothing of this to any Russians, and speak sparingly of it among yourselves.”

  The Mongols handed the money to Bogd and Taikar, some grudgingly. A falcon*** wrestler looked Batu in the eye and said sarcastically, “What are you going to do with the money? Get girls?” Batu laughed, “ Have I failed you yet?” “No. No, you are a strong leader. Have a good time or whatever you wish.”

  After the wrestlers had returned to their cars, Batu shook nurse Jama awake. He pulled out two thirds of the money. “Here dear sister. Put this deep in your pocket. She stood up stifly. Her face seemed to say: Is this a dream? She reached out, slowly, slowly took the money, and stuffed it into her pocket. “Sleep well dear sister,” Batu said soothingly. Jana slumped back in her seat. How good it was to be with her people.

  Commisar Ostroska made his way from troop passenger car to troop passenger car. “Good morning comrades, our great leader comrade Stalin has called you to arms and you are
eager to fight for mother Russia.” His ample girth filled his greatcoat. He had already made a good start on a bottle of vodka. “Just to keep warm,” he reasoned with himself.

  He opened the next passenger car door. Empty. What? He blinked his eyes. He blinked them again. He looked under the seats. “Comrades. Russian Comrades,” he shouted, but no one came out. As he now walked through the vestibule between cars, something seemed strange. Ah, that was it. One of the outside doors was ajar.

  Commisar Ostrosaka hurried to the next car. Mongols. Most still asleep. Others talking quietly in their incomprehensible tongue. “Russian comrades. Russian comrades,” he shouted. He went through a few more cars —more Mongols— until he was finally behind the baggage car. He stormed back to the empty passenger car, passing bunch of snoring Mongols. He thought about questioning some of them, but he would have to get a translator. Nor did he want the Mongols to know that Russians had probably deserted. Forget about them. Horses, vodka, and women were the lot of their lives. What would they know about Russian deserters? He went to the vestibule between cars and looked out the door that was ajar.

  That was it. Damn. It was so obvious. All the soldiers in the car had conspired together and had jumped off the train. Traitors. Deserters. If only he could get his hands on them. No matter. He would make a report: If any of them are caught, they are to be shot on sight. No listening to stories. No court martial. Shot. Shot on sight. How could they? Worse than rats. Worse than the fleas on the rats.

  Batu heard the train couplings slam against each other as the train slowed down “Quickly. Quickly,” he said to Bogd and Taikar, get the Russian doctor. Tell him that nurse Jama is deathly sick. Bogd and Taikar made their way through the troop cars. Finally there he was playing cards, a short balding man with a grey goatee. His eyes seemed to be hiding behind the thick lenses of his eyeglasses. “Yes. Yes. He said impatiently as he looked up at the Mongols. “Doctor, please come with us quickly. It is an emergency. “Can’t you see I’m busy. Get the fuck away. You’ll bring bad luck. Worse that I’ve had so far.

  “Good doctor come with us. An important man has ordered it. Strong arms gripped his arms. “He’ll be right back,” Bogd and Taikar promised. The doctor resigned himself. “Alright then. Let’s go see the patient.”

  Batu welcomed the doctor with a broad smile. Bogd and Taikar interpreted, “You honor us by coming doctor. Nurse Jama is very sick. She must return to Mongolia at the next station.” The doctor put his hand on Jama’s forehead. It seemed a little warm but no fever. Batu spoke authoritatively, “Here is a paper and a pen. You will write this: Nurse Jama has the early symptoms of the plague, probably caused by being bitten by a flea from a marmot while in Mongolia. Although I have given her medication, she must return to Mongolia immediately.”

  “Here is you fee.” Batu handed him a handful of rubles. Batu pulled out a knife. His eyes changed as if he were a wolf on the hunt. He spoke as Bogd and Taikar translated. “Write now and make an official heading. Seal your lips or we will seal them forever.”

  The doctor thought it through quickly. Enough money to bankroll his card game again and then some. One less Mongol on Russian soil. “Give me some vodka my hand is shakey.” “Of course doctor, and take the bottle with you.”

  Batu shook nurse Jama’s shoulder. “Nurse Jama you must hurry. Get off here and take the next train back to Mongolia. You will need this piece of paper, an official document. Put it deep in you pocket. Never let anybody keep it.” Nurse Jama looked at the certificate that the doctor had written. “The plague?” Batu spoke soothingly. “Pretend it is dormant in you. Say that the doctor has given you special medication. Go now.” Batu kissed her on the forehead. He could feel the surge of an erection. He pressed against her, the held her at arms length. She turned away, was down the steps, then with an agile gait, almost like a young colt, she crossed the train platform.

  The train began rolling forward again, toward Moscow, toward the enemy. Batu felt his throbbing penis. Damn it was good to be a Mongol.

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  *The Blue Wolf and the fallow doe are the totem ancestors of the Mongols.

  ** Naadam Festival: Held annually on July 11, featuring contests of horse racing, archery, and wrestling.

  ***Falcon: A title given when a wrestler has won five straight bouts.

  The Outskirts of Moscow