author's note: this is written somewhat tongue in cheek, I hope it makes sense.

Calculations

He shivered as he hurried through the compound;

The crunch of ice and snow beneath his feet.

Each breath became a freezing cloud of vapour;

A long night stretched ahead and he had duties to complete.

~0~

His helmet did not truly keep the cold out,

The meagre warmth from guardroom stove had gone.

Numb fingers loosely held his trusty rifle.

(No bullets in the chamber and the safety catch was on.)

~0~

A searchlight briefly caught his bulky figure,

And sparkled on the rooftops' heavy frost.

Tall pine trees glittered white beyond the watchtowers;

The magic of the scene, alas, to sergeant's eyes, was lost.

~0~

He felt the cold, bone deep, he hated winter;

It almost seemed to last the whole year through.

He buttoned up his greatcoat to the collar

And wondered what awaited him, this time, in barracks two.

~0~

He sat upon the bench, outside the building,

And pondered on the twists and turns of Fate;

His former life, this soldier's life before him;

And cursed the fragile pathways he was forced to navigate.

~0~

A thud inside the hut as candles flickered,

A muffled conversation...unknown voice,

The creaking of a hinge, an urgent whisper;

He sighed, but did not stir; he made a simple, prudent choice.

~0~

He knew the consequences if he acted,

And strode right in, to catch them all mid stunt;

A convoluted argument would follow,

With flattery and threats and reference to the Russian Front.

~0~

He did not wish to see a bunk bed moving,

A ladder to a tunnel in its place,

A count revealing one of them was missing,

Or numbers adding up, but one a different size and face.

~0~

He did not wish to see an inmate stitching

Gestapo uniforms of every rank,

Or anyone dismantling high explosives,

Or forging money well enough to fool the German bank.

~0~

He did not wish to see the maps and wall charts,

With marks denoting targets close at hand,

He did not wish to hear of any mission,

He did not wish to learn of any monkey business planned.

~o~

He did not wish to see those random strangers,

Who popped up in the bunk room now and then;

The ones in flying suits with foreign accents,

And really did not wish to see those few who were not men.

~0~

He did not wish to see those sore afflicted

With ailments of bizarre, fake origin,

Or bandages which hid much more than grazes;

Like contraband or powder burns or wounds with bullets in.

~0~

He simply wanted life to run more smoothly;

Less chaos and a lot more peace and calm.

The chance to make it safely through this conflict.

He did not wish to see these jolly jokers come to harm.

~0~

He sighed, it was too cold to sit and wonder,

As snowflakes fell, the heralds of a storm.

He could not put it off for any longer;

He stood and stamped his feet, a vain attempt to get them warm.

~0~

He shuffled to the door and rapped it sharply,

Then counted very slowly up to three,

Then pushed it open, stepped across the threshold,

And hoped against all hope that there was nothing not to see.

~0~

A chorus of complaints, of course, erupted;

From irate East End oath to Mid West drawl,

As whirling flakes and chill winds made an entrance;

He hushed them with a gesture and began the evening call...

~0~

Four sat with cards in hands, around the table.

(Ignore their boots; the trail of mud and ice.)

Six lay upon their bunks, all gently snoring.

(Two in outdoor clothing, damp and damaged...don't look twice.)

~0~

One rested, feet tucked in, engrossed in reading,

"His" cap pulled low, a single stray gold curl;

A blanket draped across quite slender shoulders.

(Of course no possibility that this might be a girl.)

~0~

Two had propped themselves against a bunk bed,

(It really hadn't just swung into line.)

One more, with folded arms, observed the counting;

His innocent expression clearly showed that all was fine.

~0~

Two were deep in heated conversation,

Beside the cooking pot; an old routine.

He smiled, regarded both of them quite fondly,

Then frowned and shook his head, rechecked; his counting reached

Sixteen...

~0~

Two chocolate bars, one slice of strudel later,

And all the adding up was sorted out.

Quite mollified, he sipped his fresh-poured coffee;

A mere miscalculation, not the shadow of a doubt.

~0~

He left the barracks, really quite contented;

It could have been, he mused, a whole lot worse.

A glow, despite the harsh inclement weather.

It was indeed a strange, and complicated, universe.

~0~