Emil, however, wasn’t yet convinced. “It’s just that I joined an army once—not by choice. It was miserable. The trenches were wet and cold, the food was awful . . . when we had it. And to top it all off, people kept shooting at me. I’m not sure I want to volunteer for a different army.”
Filip had spent months recruiting for the legion among the Czechs and Slovaks being held in Russian camps as war prisoners, so he’d heard all Emil’s excuses, and he knew exactly how to make the scrawny soldier see the light. “The legion is different. We won’t be fighting for an empire we hate. We’ll be fighting for ourselves.”
“But we don’t have a country.”
“Not yet. But we do have an army, and that’s a start. Things are changing. The Austro-Hungarian Empire is falling apart. If we seize this chance now, we’ll have a say at the negotiation table. A chance to break away from the empire and have an independent country.”
Emil glanced back toward the train station as if weighing the danger of joining the legion against the danger of wandering the Ukraine alone now that he was free of his POW camp. “Nobody cares about the Czechs or the Slovaks. They won’t remember little people like us, will they?”
“Our actions will show so much valor, so much daring, that it will be impossible for them to forget us.”
Emil nodded thoughtfully.
“How old are you, Emil?” He looked about seventeen. Filip had probably looked that young when he’d left his grandfather’s workshop to dutifully serve the three-year term of conscription required of all Austro-Hungarian subjects, but by the time the war had started almost four years ago, Filip had been twenty-two.
“Nineteen.”
That was young but not too young. “You’re sick of Austrian rule, aren’t you, Emil?”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I want to join an army allied with their enemies. Desertion’s a capital offense. So is treason.”
Emil still hesitated.
“Imagine victory. Picture going home to a land where no one looks down on you just because you’re Czech. Think about liberty, about finally having a voice.”
The lines of Emil’s mouth relaxed, almost into a smile.
“You’d return home a war hero.”
That changed Emil’s expression into an unambiguous grin, though he hid it quickly. He nodded. Filip took that as agreement. He held out his hand, and Emil shook it.
“Welcome to the legion, brother. I’ll show you the barracks.”
Hope still lit Emil’s eyes as he studied the encampment. Zemlanky-style barracks surrounded the parade ground, built mostly underground with only their thatched roofs visible.
“They don’t look like much,” Filip said, “but they keep in the warmth. And we won’t be here much longer.”
“When do I get a rifle?” Emil asked.
“We’re a bit short on weapons at the moment. But the French will supply us once we get to France.”
“Why would the French give us weapons?”
“The French will supply anyone who’s willing to fight the Germans.” And the Czechs and Slovaks were eager to battle Germans because defeating the German and Austro-Hungarian Empires was the only way they’d get a country of their own. Filip led Emil down the stairs into the cold, dimly lit barrack.
Emil studied the wooden bunks and rough tables. “How will we get to France? The Central Powers are in the way, and I don’t imagine they’ll give us safe passage through the front lines so we can fight them from the west instead of from the east.”
“That’s yet to be determined.” The latest plans involved traveling by rail to Arkhangelsk or Vladivostok, then traveling by ship. It was a roundabout way to get to France—some routes had them circumnavigating most of the globe—but as long as they got there, as long as they saw the end of the Austro-Hungarian Empire and the beginning of an independent Czechoslovakia, Filip was willing to travel as many miles as needed.
Filip introduced Emil to the rest of his squad. He excused himself when a sober-looking Dalek Pokorný ran down the steps and motioned Filip over.
“What is it?”
“The Ukrainians have just declared themselves an independent country.”
“Good for them. I hope we’ll soon join them in having a country of our own.” Ukrainian independence didn’t seem troubling, so Filip waited for a longer explanation.
“They’re negotiating with the Germans.”
“Ah.” Filip folded his arms across his chest. That complicated things. The Ukrainians were pleasant enough hosts while the legion assembled and organized new recruits for their journey to France. Most legionnaires were former war prisoners captured by the Russians, but the group included Czech émigrés and outright defectors as well. If the Ukrainians came to some sort of agreement with the Germans, their host’s new allies could cause problems . . . “What type of negotiations?”
“Help against the Bolsheviks.”