To Arms!

Dawn of The New Word

August 15, 1939
Second Polish Republic
Kielce Voivodeship
Radom

Barracks of the 72nd Infantry Regiment

Crack! Crack! These sounds yanked Sergeant Andrzej Boruta from his sleep. Someone was banging on the door of his private quarters without a shred of mercy. The room was shrouded in darkness; that was the first thing he noticed as his mind began to function again. The conclusion was obvious: someone was waking him long before reveille.

To see the clock hanging on the wall opposite his bed, he turned on the electric lamp on his desk. The hands informed Boruta that it was twenty-four minutes past four in the morning. Less than two hours remained until reveille.

"This brat better have a good excuse for waking me," the sergeant grumbled to himself, in a foul mood. His back really hurt that night; an unremoved Austrian bullet was acting up due to the rainy weather from the previous day. Because of this, he had been lying on a hot water bottle to dull the pain a bit.

He particularly disliked having to pull his back away from it. After all, he couldn't participate in today's Soldier's Day with a perpetually grimaced face. How would that look?

Adjusting his pajamas and slipping into warm slippers, he marched toward the door, which was being subjected to a continuous series of increasingly frantic knocks, as the sergeant noticed.

"What is it?" he barked angrily as he swung the door wide open.

A young soldier, already dressed in full uniform, whom Boruta recognized as the company commander's personal adjutant, Private* Michał Nowotko, jumped back startled; for a moment, the sergeant appeared to be the very devil himself.

Fortunately, under the stern eye of the famous sergeant, he quickly regained his composure.

"Captain Jakub Wajda requests your presence in the officers' hall," said Nowotko in a dry tone. "I was afraid you'd passed away, I've been knocking for several minutes. You're a very heavy sleeper," he added after a moment.

The sergeant sensed the young man's unease as he said this.

"Heavy? Boy, you must have been knocking weakly. I'm easy to wake," Boruta retorted.

"I wouldn't say so, your door creaked every time I hit it. Like this," Nowotko demonstrated, pounding his fist as before.

Boruta had to concede he was right; the door shook every time Nowotko's fist struck it. Enough that he feared the young private might break through it.

"I see," Boruta replied, then returned to the subject. "May I know why the Captain ordered you to knock on my door at four in the morning?"

"I don't know, Sergeant," Nowotko shook his head. "Stefan, one of the radio operators, woke me. He was really agitated about something but wouldn't tell me what. He just advised me to hustle as fast as I could. He took me to the Captain, who was talking to the Major. Both were speaking animatedly, and their faces showed concern. Then the Captain ordered me to wake you and the other NCOs. So please forgive me, but I must go, I've wasted enough time on you."

Nowotko then ran off, leaving Boruta alone with his thoughts.

"Well, this doesn't look good," he muttered to himself. "Though it's sure to be interesting," he added after a moment.

Boruta was neither the first nor the last NCO or officer to be rudely yanked from his bed that night. The small room in which the sergeant now found himself was already largely filled to the brim with yawning soldiers, often irritated by their sudden eviction from warm beds. Complaints filled the room from wall to wall.