Chapter Four



     Korea in the summer was terribly hot. The country was nothing but 
hills, although some would argue them to be more like mountains. Ranma was 
leaning in favor of the mountain definition, as he had hiked up and down 
just about every one of them in all of South Korea getting to his new 
unit.
     Again it was no surprise for him to learn that he, Ryoga, Kuno, 
Hiroshi, Daisuke, and Gosunkugi were to be in the same unit again. They 
seemed fated to be together, and over their last ten weeks together had 
become almost close. They were now part of 3rd Platoon, 'A' Company, 2nd 
Battalion Reserves, and despite their status as reserves, they would be 
right on the front lines. The battalion had been hit pretty hard early on, 
and was still reorganizing. The rumormill, always in overdrive, had it on 
good authority that their company would become a regular company outright.
     Their only solace was that by the time of their arrival in country, 
the North Koreans had become more interested in attacking along the western 
end of the front, which was closer to Seoul. The Japanese troops had been 
shunted far east along the coast for political reasons.
     Ranma and his platoon were fortunate indeed. At least they tried to 
convince themselves of this. Ranma sat atop his foxhole dug into the side 
of the hill near the top. He looked out across the valley below into 
no-man's land, and to the hills beyond where the North Koreans were thought 
to have some troops. 
     The scourge of the day was airplanes, jet fighters that streaked 
overhead at close to supersonic velocities and shot at whatever they felt 
like. They'd heard of one of their brother companies getting hit by South 
Korean F-16's, which didn't do anything for morale, particularly when 
feelings between the Republic of Korea and Japan were none too pleasant 
to begin with. He secretly hated the jets, because they were an 
unpredictable threat that he could do nothing about.
     The jets criss-crossed the air above them, streaks of white and black 
smoke dancing lazily over their heads. Bombs fell along those opposite 
hills, little puffs of black smoke followed by dull booms several seconds 
later. The constant patter of distant artillery kilometers away to their 
left was something they had grown used to.
     Ranma had seen the maps and knew that even kilometers away, it wasn't 
very far when you figured how narrow the country really was. Seoul was being 
hit pretty hard, as if the bombardment of Scuds that precipitated this 
nightmare weren't enough. If they broke through at Seoul, the rest of the 
UN forces on the line could be outflanked and cut off from their supply 
lines from Pusan along the southern coast. Another thing he could do nothing 
about from his dirty little hill in the eastern highlands.
     He sighed tiredly. He'd been here for almost a month and hadn't been 
so much as shot at a single time. Aside from the jets and the distant thud 
of exploding ordnance, it wasn't even like there was a war going on. The old 
questions of why they were here were soon dredged up, and he couldn't find 
any satisfactory answers.
     Even more than his doubts of purpose, he missed Akane.
     Her letters flowed in to him by the armload from the rear area. To 
his delight he found that her letters weren't being censored like they 
used to be. She was writing him at least daily, and though he never thought 
he had it in him, he tried to write her too. He wondered where she found 
things to talk about, all of his letters to her and to the Tendos back home 
in far away Nerima all said pretty much the same thing:

     "Korea's hot. Everything's quiet where I am. I'm all right. Miss you 
much. -Ranma."

     Ryoga's head poked out of their foxhole. He had his British-made 
assault rifle slung over his shoulder, his bandanna wrapped around his 
head beneath his kevlar helmet. Ranma noted that at least Ryoga made a 
better partner than Kuno, who now suffered the company of Gosunkugi. 
Hiroshi and Daisuke had predictably partnered up in the third hole to 
their right.
     "Hey, stupid!" Ryoga snarled. "What are you doing up there? You wanna 
get yourself killed by a sniper?"
     Ranma scoffed at Ryoga. "Come on, Ryoga, we've been here four weeks 
and no one's so much as looked in our direction the whole time. The only 
casualties we've taken were from those stupid jets, and they were supposed 
to be on our side!"
     "Fine with me then," Ryoga retorted. "I'll just have to console poor 
Akane when they bring your stupid dead body back from this hellhole."
     That had Ranma's blood going.
     "Shut up, Ryoga! It's not like you can even find your way back to 
Battalion, much less all the way back to Japan. You can't even find your 
own damn foxhole without help!"
     "You take that back!" Ryoga yelled. He jumped out of the foxhole and 
assumed a fighting stance.
     Ranma sneered. It was about time! He needed someone to spar with or 
he was going to go crazy!
     They commenced to hammer each other with blows, not really caring 
1about defense, just blowing off steam. As they grappled and tried 
alternately to strangle or break the other's neck, shells began dropping 
in all around them. The explosions were so loud as to bring stars to their 
eyes, a force defying any of their expectations.
     Ranma watched horrified as their own Corporal Okuda was blown to bits 
by a direct hit not twenty meters away from them. Hot embers and clods of 
dirt rained down on them, and their ears rang with the report of the shell. 
They jumped into their foxhole as hot black smoke wafted over their heads.
     The shells continued to fall around them, shaking the ground and 
threatening to cave in their shelter. Dirt clods pelted them as each tooth 
rattling explosion hit nearby. It seemed every gun in Korea was aimed at 
their foxhole and their foxhole alone.
     Ranma opened his eyes to find that he and Ryoga were holding onto each 
other for dear life. Ryoga's eyes were squinted tightly shut. It struck him 
as funny in a brain-addled kind of way.
     **Just a minute ago we were trying to kill each other, now we're 
holding onto each other like best friends.**
     He started to laugh.
     Ryoga opened his eyes and saw that Ranma was laughing. Not that he 
could hear him, as the shells' thunder came in full force to their little 
hole, but because the idiot was smiling and carrying on.
     **He's gone nuts,** Ryoga thought. **Shell shock.**
     "What are you laughing at?" Ryoga screamed.
     "Just thinkin' how lucky you were to be saved by this shelling!" 
Ranma shot back.
     Ryoga's face screwed up into a cross-eyed visage of mindless rage.
     "AAAAARRRGGGHHHH!!! Think that's funny do you?! I'll take your fool 
head off, Saotome!"
     Before Ryoga could make good on his threat, the sound of Kuno's voice 
could be heard over the howl and whomp of the shells.

     "Insolent curs!" Kuno cried at the top of his lungs.

     Ranma and Ryoga faced each other, then poked their heads cautiously 
out of their hole. Tatewaki Kuno stood atop his foxhole, facing out across 
no-man's land. He carried a sword held high in his hand; a real sword, not 
a wooden bokken. The polished steel gleamed in the sunlight. Shells landed 
all around him, yet not a scrap of shrapnel touched him.
     "Cowards!" Kuno bellowed. "A thousand deaths are not enough for thee!"
     "Kuno, you idiot! Get back in your hole!" Ranma yelled. A hot sliver 
of metal creased his helmet liner, driving him back down.
     "Let him get himself killed!" Ryoga yelled over the din.
     Kuno continued to pontificate.
     "Face me in single combat, you heathen!" he bellowed, waving his blade 
over his head. "Hide not behind the skirts of thy artillery! Art thou 
afeared to be the same in thine own act and valor as thou art in desire?! 
Wouldst thou esteem'st the ornament of life, and live a coward in thine 
own esteem!?"
     Ranma dared another look out of the hole. Kuno was still standing 
there, still in one piece.
     "Kuuuunooooo! Get down, you moron!"
     Kuno spun on his heels to face him. "Silence, wretched Saotome! You 
have not leave to speak to me in that tone!"
     "Alright, ya jerk! You asked for it!" Ranma snarled in reply.
     Ryoga watched in disbelief as Ranma jumped out of the foxhole and 
charged Kuno. The swordsman now faced no-man's land again, returning to 
his verbal counter-battery of the far hill.
     "Cretins! Wretches! Cowards! I fear you not! Come face me as men! For 
'tis truly nobler to suffer the slings and arrows of--"
     He wasn't able to finish, as Ranma body checked him with all his might, 
driving them both down into Kuno's foxhole. A shell blew apart the ground 
where the swordsman had stood, geysering clods of red-brown dirt high over 
their heads and collapsing part of the hole.
     Ranma lay sprawled atop Kuno, who lay atop Gosunkugi, who was now out 
cold. Ranma growled at Kuno for having made him do such a stupid thing, 
realizing that his voice had taken on a higher pitch and smoother timbre. 
His (now her) helmet rolled over her face, obscuring her vision. Her 
clothes now hung on her, and her boots were five sizes too big.
     Her whole side was sopped where a shell fragment had burst her canteen 
open. 
     Kuno opened his eyes, which went wide at the realization of a dream 
come true. He threw his arms around Ranma-chan, embraced her with all 
his prodigious strength, and cried in a loud voice;
     "Oh, Pig-Tailed Girl! Even here to this desolate place do you follow 
me! I will do honor to your devotion for me! I will protect you with 
these arms even as I do so now! I-"
     Ranma-chan headbutted him, knocking him out cold. She left him atop 
Gosunkugi and sprinted for the safety of her own hole.
     Ryoga began to laugh as soon as he saw the bright red locks of hair 
spill from beneath Ranma-chan's helmet.
     "Oho! Couldn't resist tempting Kuno with your beauty, eh Ranma? You 
and he make such a cute couple!" Ryoga taunted nervously.
     "Just shut up, pig boy!" Ranma-chan spat. She couldn't believe she 
had just run out into the middle of a shrapnel storm to save the likes of 
Tatewaki Kuno! She reached for their tiny little camp stove and a box of 
hexamine tablets to make some hot water.
     **There's no way I'm gonna be caught dead like this!** she thought 
blackly, not realizing her choice of words. Ryoga continued to chortle 
weakly. The shells seemed to slow their barrage. Soon they had stopped, 
and there was an eery quiet throughout the hill.
     "Huh?" Ryoga grunted in the silence.
     He poked his head out.
     Smoke wafted from numerous shell craters. Clods of dirt were strewn 
everywhere. The ragged remains of Corporal Okuda were now muddied red only 
three meters from their hole. Ryoga was grateful for the overpowering reek 
of cordite, which masked the smell of their dead NCO.
     He started to say a prayer for him when the bullets began whizzing 
around him. He ducked back down into the hole with a yelp.
     "Damn it!" he swore. "The shells weren't enough, you have to shoot 
at us too?!" He unslung his rifle and jerked back the operating handle. 
Ranma-chan looked at him, unsure of what to do or say.
     "Don't just stand there, fool! They're coming for us!" Ryoga yelled. 
He popped back up and began firing short bursts. The hot brass showered 
over Ranma-chan, and she yelped in pain.
     "Hey, ya jerk!" she cried, and chambered a round in her rifle. She 
popped up next to him and looked down her sights. Bullets from a heavy 
machine gun slammed into the hill around them. The shots didn't seem to 
be directed at any particular target, and Ranma decided it was suppressing 
fire. That meant there would be an infantry attack on the hill in short 
order.
     She began firing rapid bursts, heedless of any targets, just shooting. 
Shooting made her feel like she was in control of the situation, that she 
couldn't be harmed as long as she shot back. Her magazine was emptied in 
seconds. As she bent to take a spare from her pouch, a machine gun round 
struck the top of her helmet and drove her into the foxhole.
     "Shit!" she cried stupidly as she landed on her bottom.
     "Ranma!" Ryoga cried, turning around and ducking into the hole.
     "I'm all right," Ranma-chan replied. Her heart pounded in her chest 
like it was about to burst. "I'm all right," she told herself again. The 
adrenaline coursed through her as she fought to regain her composure. 
She loaded her rifle, slowly, deliberately, and rose to face the fire once 
again.
     **This is different from being shelled,** Ranma-chan tried to convince 
herself as she squinted against the burn of the cordite in the air. The fear 
was there in the pit of her stomach, and she found death from a bullet to 
no longer be an abstract in her mind.
     **I've fought some pretty scary characters before, but getting shelled 
is a lot different,** she told herself. **You're helpless against it. But 
this... I can fight back now. I have to fight back now.**
     There were a lot of them running along the valley at the base of her 
hill under the cover of smoke from artillery shells. They must have 
infiltrated the valley by squads to avoid notice, because she couldn't 
imagine them crossing the valley in force during the short time of the 
barrage without being noticed and attacked by friendly artillery. 
     She could see several armored vehicles lobbing more smoke shells in 
front of them. Even the APCs couldn't have carried all of those troops. 
There had to be at least a battalion down there. 
     The artillery barrage returned with a vengeance as she watched. There 
was nothing she could do except start shooting again. If she ducked back 
into her hole, the North Koreans would get close enough to kill them with 
rocket propelled grenades. 
     **I don't want to kill anyone,** she thought. **But I don't want to 
die either... I have to fight.** 
     She took aim at one of the closest troops and fired.
     The rifle cracked once. It was a good 100 meters, but the shot was 
true. A North Korean dropped to the ground and thrashed around in agony 
-clutching his ankle. Ranma watched with a morbid fascination as the man 
was dragged behind the cover of a knoll by a comrade.
     A heavy machine gun from a larger hole behind theirs began thumping 
away, and the North Koreans directed the majority of their fire at it 
instead of them. Ranma-chan focused on the task at hand, and her rifle 
cracked again and again. North Koreans dropped to the ground as she shot 
at their legs. They were closer now, halfway up the hill, but the wind 
had picked up, blowing away their smoke cover. Shells that rained death 
on the hill now shifted to drop smoke on their forces to keep them covered.
     Ryoga saw what Ranma-chan was doing and joined in. All he'd been doing 
was wasting rounds spraying in front of them in a futile attempt to get 
them to stop advancing. Minutes passed at an agonizing gait as the staccato 
crackle of gunfire and the shouts of fear and excitement sounded around 
them. Despite all of the firepower being poured down the hill, the North 
Koreans were still advancing, and they could see the RPG equipped soldiers 
setting up from behind cover to take out their machine guns. There would be 
no stopping them from overrunning the hill at that point.
     As Ranma-chan realized this, the roar of jets filled the air. All at 
once the valley became engulfed in fire and smoke. A terrible ripping noise 
followed, like a giant tearing apart a great carpet. Huge steel shell 
casings dropped on them from above as something big, green, and ugly flew 
overhead. A grinning shark's mouth on the thing's nose surrounded an 
enormous gatling gun. The NK armored vehicles were flayed open by the 
depleted uranium shells -bursting in bright firework flowers of orange and 
green as their ammunition and fuel exploded. Cluster bombs filled the air 
at the bottom of the hill with rippling explosions like overgrown Chinese 
firecrackers, and the whine of shrapnel was heavy in their passing.
     As suddenly as the jets had come, they were gone, and silence once 
again reigned on the battlefield.
     Ranma-chan could see the North Koreans running back for the shelter 
of their hills, many of them wounded. Those who were dead or too hurt to 
move lay along the hill. She could hear their cries of agony drifting up 
with the stink of gunpowder. The artillery barrage had ceased for fear of 
drawing further attention from the terrible green jets that had decimated 
their attack in one pass.
     "What the hell were those things?" she cried in her clear alto voice. 
She decided that she didn't hate all jets. At least not these jets.
     "Who cares?" Ryoga replied. He dropped back into the hole and reloaded 
his rifle. "Maybe they'll buy us a little more peace and quiet."
     Ranma-chan joined him in the hole. Both of their faces were plastered 
with sweat and smudged with smoke and dirt. Ryoga looked very tired. Shouts 
to cease fire echoed over the hill, and were followed the sounds of voices 
crying out the status of their foxhole's occupants. Ryoga answered for the 
two of them as Ranma checked the stove.
     The water was hot on their little hexamine stove. She applied a 
splash of it to herself, feeling herself begin to fill out her camouflage 
fatigues at once. His boots now fit him again, which was a relief from 
all of the chafing he'd suffered with them flopping around on his formerly 
little girl's feet. His body was tingling with nervous tension, and the urge 
to jump out of his hole and start running around pell-mell was strong within 
him. He needed to calm down.
     "Want some tea?" He offered the remainder of the water to Ryoga. They 
were well supplied with it from Kasumi's care packages. It was finer brew 
than the tea in their ration kits.
     Ryoga looked at him tiredly. "I'd settle for going home."
     Ranma slumped down beside him. He was coming down now, and coming down 
hard. They were both worn too thin to continue their earlier fight.
     "Me too, Ryoga. Me too."
     Ranma drank the tea in silence.
     At length, a voice from outside their hole asked if they were still 
alive. It was their platoon sergeant, Yoshida.
     "We're all right, sarge," Ranma and Ryoga replied in unison. The two 
of them poked their heads out of the hole.
     Yoshida had a cut across his forehead that a medic was trying to 
treat. He ignored the medic and gestured to the hole belonging to Kuno and 
Gosunkugi.
     "How 'bout them?" he asked.
     "I think they're all right," Ranma answered.
     Yoshida nodded grimly as Kuno and Gosunkugi crawled out of their hole. 
Hikaru looked even paler than usual. Kuno seethed in silent fury at the 
grief his enemies had heaped upon him. He had a purpling bruise on his 
forehead.
     The sergeant turned back to Ranma and Ryoga. "Okuda and Kishiro were 
killed during the attack," he said flatly. Both men were corporals in 
the platoon. "There are no replacements for them, so the Old Man told me 
to find some out of the rest of the platoon. Saotome, Hibiki, you're the 
best men I've got right now, so you're both breveted to corporal - effective 
immediately. It'll be official once it clears Division, but this is good 
enough for now."
     Ranma and Ryoga didn't know what to say. Yoshida continued on without 
pause.
     "Your first assignment as the new squad corporals is to see that every 
man has enough ammo and grenades for another attack, probably after sundown. 
Then you'll meet me in my hole and I'll lay out the new fire lanes for our 
position. You'll pass that on to the rest of the platoon. Questions?"
     "Another attack?" Ryoga asked.
     "Most likely. That was probably a probing action - according to 
Battalion. We were lucky to have air support available, that's the only 
reason we got off with such light casualties. We can expect another probe 
tonight, maybe even a full scale assault, so make sure the men have plenty 
of ammo. Enough to fight all night. And get 'em to eat something now while 
they can. A little sleep couldn't hurt either, as long as it's in shifts. I 
want a man awake in every hole at all times, got it?"
     "Hai!" both answered. What else were they going to say?
     Yoshida left them to see to Okuda. Two medics had placed what was left 
of the man's body in a vinyl plastic bag and zipped him up. Ranma and Ryoga 
were both grateful that they didn't have to look at him anymore.
     Ranma sank back down into his hole.
     **Two dead and that's getting off light?**



                           Chapter Five



     Night fell, surprisingly cold, and Ranma remembered what someone had 
said about how bitter the Korean winters could be. It was early autumn 
now, and winter wasn't far away. It was a very dark night, the sky was 
overcast and there was only a sliver of a moon that still hadn't risen 
- nor would it until almost dawn. It was no wonder they thought the North 
Koreans would try again.
     To make matters worse, 'A' Company had only two sets of nightvision 
gear for the entire unit. These were given to two listening posts situated 
about halfway down the hill, and unmanned during the day time. Ranma did 
not envy the poor bastards who got to spend four hours down there in the 
middle of all that carnage. 
     Someone in Battalion had decided that it wouldn't be a good idea to 
expose men to snipers or give the North Koreans an idea of their strength 
by sending troops down the hill to take care of the dead and wounded. Both 
were left where they fell, and the last of the wounded was believed to have 
expired by sundown, if the lack of agonal cries was any indication. Ranma 
wondered if the North Koreans would do the same if their positions were 
reversed, and shuddered.
     He leaned against the opening of his foxhole and peered down into the 
darkness. Yoshida had warned them that there might have been North Koreans 
left behind who could still fight, and would wait until night to infiltrate 
their positions. His rifle lay against the edge of the hole. If he did 
actually see something, he was supposed to throw a hand grenade at it rather 
than start shooting. The rationale went that a grenade would be more likely 
to kill an infiltrator than a shot in the dark, and that a muzzle flash 
from the rifle might draw the attention of snipers.
     The trouble with staring out into the darkness was that after awhile, 
everything seemed to be moving. Shadows moved, a bush suddenly became a 
person crouching, a branch looked like the barrel of a rifle - it was nerve-
wracking. He suddenly had an urge to wake Ryoga, who was sleeping inside 
the foxhole, just to talk to him.
     His eyes caught a flicker of movement below. He watched carefully as 
what was clearly a person began moving up the hill at a crouch. His 
instincts screamed at him to throw a grenade, but he held himself in check 
until he was sure of his target.
     "Sukiyaki," a voice hissed. It was coming from below. Ranma's hand 
clenched on the spoon of the grenade as a finger slipped around the loosened 
pin. He could see a second figure moving up behind the first.
     "Sukiyaki," the voice said again, seeming a little impatient for a 
godless communist infiltrator out to slit his throat and dance on his 
corpse. 
     "Hey Saotome, you awake up there?" the voice hissed in irritation. 
"If you are awake, don't blow my ass up, okay?"
     It was Hiro Ohata, the squad radioman, Ranma realized.
     "Yeah, Saotome, take it easy. It's just us," Daisuke added from behind 
Hiro.
     "Teppanyaki," Ranma remembered, although it was *his* job to give the 
sign and *their* job to give the countersign after he challenged them.
     Hiro and Daisuke approached close enough to be recognized.
     "You weren't asleep, were you, Saotome?" Daisuke asked quietly.
     "No, but I was pretty close to dropping a grenade on you. What's with 
you, sneaking up on me like that?"
     Daisuke shrugged. His boyish face grinned in the dim light. "I know 
we're supposed to take the other path up the hill, but it's too damn dark 
out, and the thought of walking into the mine field isn't comforting. So we 
took the only way we were sure about. Sorry."
     "Whatever," Ranma groused.
     "We'll go report in now. Have a good one, Saotome."
     Hiro and Daisuke continued up the hill to the Company area to report 
to the duty NCO.
     Ranma let out a loud sigh and settled back into his hole. He had come 
about two seconds from blowing one of his high school buddies to tiny bits.
     Ryoga slithered up from out of his sleeping bag and blinked sleepily 
at him.
     "What was that all about?" he asked groggily.
     "You mean you heard us?" Ranma replied. He thought Ryoga was sleeping 
soundly.
     "I wasn't really sleeping very well," Ryoga supplied.
     "Then stay awake and keep me company."
     Ryoga cocked his head at Ranma. The thought of Ranma Saotome wanting 
his company seemed out of place, even for the middle of a war.
     "Sure," he said at length.
     "I just need to talk to someone while I keep watch," Ranma said, 
turning out to face the darkness of no-man's land once again. "You can go 
back to sleep if you want, but I'm going to talk to you as if you were 
awake."
     "That makes absolutely no sense, Ranma," Ryoga yawned. "You *are* an 
idiot."
     Ranma didn't take the bait. "Maybe, but you'll feel the same way after 
three hours of this."
     "So what do you want to talk about?"
     Ranma shrugged. "I dunno. Anything."
     There was a long pause.
     "Ranma?"
     "Yeah?"
     "We never talked about anything before we came to Korea, so what makes 
you think we can come up with something now?"
     Ranma thought about this.
     "You've got a point, man. Sorry to bother you."
     "I'm going back to sleep," Ryoga yawned. "Wake me when it's my turn."
     He watched Ryoga settle back down into his section of the hole.
     "Good night, Ryoga."



                         *       *       *



     The night passed without incident. Ranma wasn't sure if he was glad 
or not. The lack of an attack wasn't inspiring confidence in his superiors' 
ability to predict the enemy's intentions. He didn't need Ryoga to jostle 
him awake, the cold morning did it for him.
     Yoshida dropped two new jackets into their hole, each with corporal's 
insignia on the sleeves. The embroidered name strip had been removed from 
the breast pockets of both jackets. He left without saying anything.
     Ryoga tried on his jacket. It was relatively clean, but that wouldn't 
last long. Ryoga didn't quite fit the part of a corporal, but then again, 
neither did he, Ranma supposed. He tried on his jacket as well. At least it 
was dry and clean.
     Shelling began on a nearby hill. It wasn't very intense, just 
harrassing and interdiction fire. Ranma found that despite the sound of 
the explosions, the fact that they weren't directed at him meant that 
they could have been on another continent as far as he was concerned. He 
made his way from his hole to the communications trench that led to the 
company area, and the latrines for his morning business.
     When he returned, he heard Tatewaki Kuno bitching about something 
from inside his hole. Ryoga, Hiroshi, and Daisuke were busy cleaning their 
rifles in Ranma's and Ryoga's foxhole.
     "What's with Kuno?" Ranma asked.
     "Kuno didn't take the news of you guys' promotion well, and he's over 
in his hole sulking," Hiroshi replied. "He's convinced that a couple of 
'churlish cretins' like you two are unworthy of such an honor."
     "Is that so?" Ranma replied. He had a mind to go over to Kuno's hole 
and straighten the clown out. As he moved to leave, Hikaru Gosunkugi 
appeared, rifle in hand, and a camera dangling from his neck. The sight of 
Hikaru Gosunkugi toting an automatic weapon was still taking some getting 
used to, and they'd been in the JGSDF for over three months.
     "Do you guys mind if I join you?" he asked meekly.
     "Sure Gos', come on down," Ranma replied. "Kuno bothering you?"
     "A little," Hikaru admitted. He lowered himself gingerly into the 
foxhole. Ranma noted dribbles of candle wax on the sides of his helmet. 
"Congratulations, by the way. Do you mind if I get a photo of you two?"
     "Thanks, man," Ranma replied. "It ain't that a big deal, really. I 
mean we've only had them for less than a day and Yoshida's already bitched 
us out three times."
     Hikaru snapped a few photos of the two new corporals, then Ryoga 
took a group shot of the four Furinkan alumni. No one felt like getting 
Kuno to make their group complete.
     "It can't be all bad," Daisuke retorted when Ryoga was finished. 
"Think of the extra pay."
     "You mean we get paid for this?" Hiroshi asked. Ranma wasn't sure if 
he was joking.
     "Man, I'd give all the money in the world just to see a pretty girl 
in the flesh," Daisuke lamented. "It's been months!"
     Hiroshi looked to Ranma. "Do us a favor, Ranma."
     "What?" the pig-tailed martial artist spluttered. "There's no way I'm 
gonna turn into a girl just so you can gawk at me!"
     "Aw come on, Saotome," Daisuke pleaded. "It's an NCO's duty to see to 
the morale of his men!"
     "No way!" He leaped out of the hole.
     Daisuke looked to Hiroshi.
     "We had to try," he said.
     Hiroshi nodded solemnly. "Indeed we did. Perhaps we can ambush him 
later with a full canteen."
     "Not in this foxhole you don't!" Ryoga said sternly.



                          *       *       *



     Later that day the shelling of the nearby hill stopped, and with the 
respite, someone from the rear area brought mail. The platoon's radioman, 
Hiro Ohata, began to distribute it by foxhole.
     "Here ya go, Saotome, your usual bundle of letters," he said to Ranma.
Ranma took the bundle of letters from Hiro, who reached into a sack.
     "It seems there's a care package for you as well," Hiro said brightly. 
"Some guys get all the luck."
     Ranma took the package, and Hiro moved on.
     The package was from Akane, which was unusual in that Kasumi had sent 
all the other ones. A cold lump formed in his stomach, and he shook the 
box cautiously.
     It rattled, sounding a little like cookies. Now his heart was racing. 
He handed the box to Ryoga as if it were full of explosives.
     "Here, open it."
     "Why me?" Ryoga asked nervously.
     "Cause it might be food."
     "You lout!" Ryoga snarled. "Just because Akane is still learning to 
cook doesn't mean you should insult her like that!"
     "Hey, you know as well as I do what her food's like," Ranma retorted. 
He pointed out across no-man's land to the distant hills belonging to the 
North Koreans. "If we air-dropped some of it over there we'd end the war 
within the day!" He paused for a moment in thought. "Of course, they'd 
probably retaliate with nukes..."
     Ryoga saw his point, but he also wasn't going to let him get away 
with insulting Akane.
     "All right, *Corporal* Saotome! I'll open this, but if it's edible, 
you don't get one damn bite!"
     "Deal!" Ranma chirped.
     Ryoga tore open the box with his characteristic ferocity. Sure 
enough, there was a tin of home baked cookies inside. Akane had drawn 
little animal faces on the cookies with frosting. At least that's what 
they thought they were. The faces *were* a little crude.
     "Hey, they smell pretty good!" Ranma cried in excitement. "Maybe 
Kasumi *did* bake them."
     "Oh no you don't, Ranma! Remember our deal!" Ryoga shot back, jerking 
the box out of Ranma's reach.
     "Aw come on, Ryoga! Just one?"
     "A deal's a deal!"
     "But we haven't tested them yet!" Ranma protested. "How do we know 
they're not edible?"
     Kuno and Gosunkugi appeared then at the top of the hole. Ranma and 
Ryoga had lined the top with sturdy logs, which even if they would never 
stop a direct shell hit, did make the place feel a little more secure. 
     "Are those cookies, or doth mine senses deceive me?" Kuno asked.
     "They smell great!" Gosunkugi added.
     "Akane made them," Ryoga said, both as answer and warning. Though he 
would never malign her cooking in public, he knew all too well how deadly 
she could be in the kitchen when she 'experimented.'
     "Home baked cookies made from the loving hands of Akane Tendo?" Kuno 
cried. He lunged down into the box and grabbed one. "Very well then, I 
shall taste what love hath made!"
     He bit down on the cookie. Ranma could have sworn he heard the sound 
of shattering glass. Tatewaki Kuno began to stare cross-eyed.
     "Gee, who would have thought she'd confuse dry cement mix with the 
flour? It could happen to anyone I guess," Ranma said casually. It was a 
disappointment to be cheated like that, but better for Kuno to discover 
the awful truth than himself.
     Kuno recovered from his shock to examine the cookie. There weren't 
even dent marks from his teeth in the thing.
     "Hhhhmmmmm...." he murmured, still studying the cookie. "Perhaps like 
fine French wines, they do not travel well..."



                           Chapter Six



     The days seemed to drag in Nerima. Every day found the family 
clustered around the television set to watch the news. Ukyo was there, 
as were Shampoo, Mousse, and Cologne. The three Chinese had escaped 
detention or deportation back to China only because China had refused to 
take sides in the war. Happosai smoked his pipe calmly, the only one who 
wasn't worried about Ranma or the others.
     Nodoka and Kasumi entered with the tea. All were silent as the news 
came on. The screen showed images of distant explosions and the sounds 
of jets and artillery. The NHK reporter was describing what he saw, which 
was followed by a voice-over narration.

     "Fighting continues around the outskirts of Seoul today, with heavy 
casualties on both sides. UN forces have been pushed back after their 
first counter-attack since the beginning of hostilities. Many insiders 
report that an uneven flow of supplies due to North Korean submarine 
attacks is hampering the defense of the peninsula..."
     The screen then shifted to show a foundering merchant ship burning in 
the early morning darkness.
     "Attacks continue on merchant shipping on the high seas, with the 
latest being the attack on the _Yuri Maru._ The 25,000 ton container ship 
was hit by several Chinese-made Silkworm anti-ship cruise missiles, fired 
from a North Korean Kilo Class submarine. Allied naval forces were able to 
sink that submarine, but only after it had sunk _Yuri Maru_ and her vital 
cargo of pharmaceuticals and iron ore from Australia. The cost of the 
sinking is estimated at 24 billion yen. 
     "Even worse than the loss of life and property are the delays such 
shipping attacks are causing in the region. Inflation has risen nineteen 
percent in recent weeks, and the cost of underwriting voyages has 
skyrocketed. Ultimately the consumer must pay the price for the higher 
cost of goods that travel by sea..."
     The screen shifted back to the jagged hills of Korea. Bodies were 
being carried out on stretchers. Each was zipped up in a dark plastic 
bag. Several shots of wounded Japanese soldiers followed, with each 
member of the family and friends cringing in the fear that they would 
see someone they knew, perhaps even cared for. Fortune was with them, 
and they recognized no one. Others in the neighborhood weren't so 
fortunate. There were three Nerima boys so far who weren't coming home 
alive.
     There was little more of note on NHK, and Nabiki switched over to 
CNN. She had a hunch that certain details of the war were being censored 
by the Japanese government. Hopefully CNN would have no such troubles 
reporting the events as they happened, but the UN forces were keeping 
the press on a leash. After a rehash of NHK's report, she was vindicated.
     Sturm Blitzen appeared, this time on dry land. He was wearing a 
camouflage parka because the weather was starting to turn cold in Korea.
     "Japanese elements of the UN forces came under heavy attack earlier 
today, the ninth straight day of attacks. Analysts believe that the attacks 
are an attempt to skirt American and Republic of Korea blocking forces 
around Seoul, and drive deep into the center of the peninsula. Thus far 
the Japanese troops have held, but losses have been heavy. 
     "Continued shelling and armored attacks have kept them pinned, and 
only the dwindling resources of available air support by the American and 
Japanese Air Forces have kept the North from rolling over the beleaguered 
defenders..."

     "Oh my word!" Kasumi cried. Hers was the most vocal report. The rest 
suppressed their worst fears with silence. Nabiki turned the TV off.
     Akane stood up and walked out to the koi pond. Ukyo followed her to 
offer some kind of support.
     "If something happened to the boy, we would have been notified by 
now," Soun Tendo said. He wasn't sure who he was trying to convince.
     "You're right, Tendo," Genma replied solemnly. He was determined to 
help his friend keep the family's spirits up. Ranma hadn't written in 
twelve days.
     Akane was on the verge of weeping. She'd been able to keep her chin 
up for awhile, but the truth was that Ranma's absence was tearing at her 
more and more each day. "Why won't the jerk write me?" she asked herself 
"All I want to know is that he's all right!"
     Ukyo placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
     "Come on, Akane, we both know Ranma can take care of himself."
     Akane turned to Ukyo with a hurt look.
     "Then why hasn't he written or tried to send word? He used to write 
every few days!"
     "Maybe with all the fighting that's been going on the mail's having a 
tough time getting out. Heck, he's probably got a whole stack of letters 
ready to go for you." She had to admit that she was worried as well, but 
someone had to be the strong one and keep quiet about it.
     "I hope you're right, Ukyo." She smiled for her sometime rival's 
benefit.
     Ukyo took the smile as a good sign. "I know I am, sugar."
     Kasumi's voice rang clear and cheerful across the garden. "Akane! 
Come quickly! I've got letters from Ranma!"
     Akane's face brightened like they hadn't seen in weeks. She was 
standing before her eldest sister before another word could be said. The 
rest of the family and guests gathered around the two.
     "It's dated only three days ago!" Akane said happily, and she tore 
open the envelope. The paper within looked like the back of a ration box, 
but they were used to that. Ranma's scrawl was plastered over every 
available surface.
     "Dear Akane," she read aloud, too happy to care if anything personal 
was being said. "Sorry I haven't written to you sooner, hope you're not 
worried or nothing. As you probably know, things are pretty crazy here, 
but I'm all right. So're Ryoga and Kuno and even Gosunkugi. Oh yeah, I 
keep forgeting to mention it, but me and Ryoga got promoted to corporal-"
     Gasps of happy surprise followed. Genma started bragging until Nodoka 
shushed him. 
     Akane continued, "-but all it really means is we get less sleep than 
everyone else 'cause we gotta look after them. Oh yeah, thanks for the 
cookies you sent, they've been a real life saver! Miss you. Signed Ranma."
     Akane closed her eyes and tried to imagine Ranma's happy surprise at 
her box of cookies. Something had finally turned out right! Tears welled 
at the corners of her eyes, tears of joy.

     **Hey Saotome! Supplies didn't get through again!** she imagined 
someone telling him out there. **Ranma looks at the soldier and smiles. 
'Don't worry about me, I've got these cookies to see me through!'**


     The shelling picked up the tempo, coming down like high-explosive 
hail. Ranma, Ryoga, Tatewaki, and Hikaru sat in their enlarged hole. 
Tatewaki and Hikaru's hole had taken a direct hit while they were in the 
rear area picking up ammunition for the platoon, and now the four from 
Furinkan shared a hole until it was safe to go out and dig out the old 
one.
     A particularly nasty shell landed close by, nearly knocking them 
silly with the concussion. Several more followed around them. The dirt 
was hard packed by now, and only little trickles of it fell from the 
logs and sod roof they'd put over the forward half for cover and 
camouflage.
     "Hey Kuno, shelling's getting heavier. Go put some more of those 
cookies on the roof," Ranma said casually. He'd grown used to the constant 
thunder, could even sleep through it if it wasn't immediately close by.
     "Why must I do it, Saotome?" Tatewaki protested imperiously.
     "Because it's your turn this time," Ryoga informed him.
     Tatewaki sighed. "Very well, though it seems a sin to despoil the 
work of the beauteous Akane Tendo by such coarse and vulgar uses."
     "Whatever keeps us from getting killed," Ranma said. "Those things 
are harder than stone."
     Tatewaki sighed again and dug into the box for a half dozen of the 
things. They looked like ordinary sugar cookies, they even smelled 
wonderful, but whatever Akane had done to them, they were now like armor 
plate. He poked his head up long enough to arrange them with the rest in 
as aesthetically pleasing way as time permitted. 
     As soon as he ducked back into the shelter of the hole, a lucky 
shell hit the roof dead on.
     The concussion was enormous, stealing the breath from their lungs 
and knocking them silly. The only reason they had not been instantly 
killed was that something had directed the tremendous force of the blast 
up and away from the four soldiers huddled in the light of their tiny camp 
stove. When they had recovered their senses, Ranma ventured a look up to 
see how their shelter had fared.
     As expected, the cookies were undamaged. They weren't scorched. They 
weren't even warm.
     "If only Akane knew how many times those things saved our necks," he 
muttered to himself, then ducked below to wait out the shelling and the 
inevitable attack that would follow. This the tenth day of it was really 
wearing thin, though they had all hit some weird threshold where they 
didn't seem to fatigue any more than they already were. If anything, the 
constant shelling had made them indifferent to all the violence around 
them; their actions in hobbling the enemy when they attacked were 
automatic, like robots.


     Akane hugged the letter to her chest, the happiest she'd been in a 
long time. She let the others read the rest of the mail, content to sit 
on the patio deck and watch the sun set.