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Message: <blockquote data-quote="The Shaman" data-source="post: 2586967" data-attributes="member: 26473">Sánchez picks his way along carefully over the toe of the tree-covered slope, the truck swaying sharply. The Spaniard casts a sidelong glance at Normand. “All that talk about dying gloriously for the Legion, Camerone and all that, is fine for the bleus,” he says, “but believe me, it’s better to sleep in your rack at the end of the day.”The truck pulls to a stop behind the goat pen – Asmussen is there with the wounded Sembène, and together the three legionnaires gently lift the wounded caporal into the back of the truck.Nedjar glances across the farmyard toward the barn where Ortu waits. “Silvio’s not a bad guy. He’ll make sergent if he ever learns to shut up,” he says. “Still a good idea not to make him angry, though. You haven’t, have you?” Nedjar grins wryly as Pyotr takes off, then follows a few steps behind.Dashing past the outhouse to the corner of the barn, Pyotr can see the horse in the near corral. The animal is lying on its side – a long bloody trail leads down one haunch into the straw and mud on the floor of the enclosure. The horse stirs, a guttural whicker coming from deep in its throat, as the two legionnaires creep toward the east doors of the barn.One of the big sliding doors is slightly open, just a few inches. Darkness lies beyond the narrow gap. Pyotr: Spot check, please.</blockquote>