Aryeh, the company commander, stands before us. As usual his head is slightly tilted forward. He is also dressed as always: that special brown battle dress. But somehow he looks different. More serious, almost solemn.
He reads out a command from the battalion commander. The company should provide fifty men as the reserve for an operation. The names are not yet decided. They will be announced in the evening. Those who take part will hold high the honor of the com-pany etc, etc.
The roll call is over. We climb into the vehicles to return to our field exercise. Normally we lark about, shout, and laugh. This time we are quiet. Very quiet. No singing. A few of us hum a melancholy soldier’s tune that reflects our mood.
Each of us is wondering: is my name on the list? Or must I take my leave from my friends? I wouldn’t be able to say goodbye to my par-ents or girlfriend. All leave has been canceled. We will have to be ready - as soon as the command arrives - to depart within twenty minutes.
In the late afternoon we return to camp. We have hardly had time to change our clothes when there is another roll call. We line up in silence. We are waiting for the list.
The boss gives us a searching look. In his hand is a white sheet of paper. We know: the list. "I will read the names of reserve number one. The men will line up in three rows before me..."
One name after another. After each name your heart skips a beat. A good friend: Gustav, the clown of the company. We will miss his performances in the evening. My chess opponent.
We stand there perfectly still. Each one is expecting his own name. One after another they go and form the new unit.
The list is finished. Over half the company. Those who remain are standing in sparse rows, with the gaps standing for those who were called. We look at each other - like orphans. Nobody is pleased that he was not chosen. We are all thinking of our missing comrades.
The gaps are closed and the ranks reformed. Off to the culture room to hear a lecture. But nobody is listening. From time to time we glance out of the window. See the comrades packing, see them gath-ering by the vehicles.