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his desk as he thought. “You should have talked to Assistant Leader O’Shea about this matter. However, it took a lot of guts for you to come to me, Sokolowski. I admire that.” The captain sat back in his swivel chair and leaned hard on his right elbow. “The CCC allows me a certain amount of discretion in these matters. So, if your friend comes back in a couple of days, I will consider taking him back. You see to it that your crew picks up Campeau’s workload.”
    â€œYes, sir, thank you, sir.” I saluted awkwardly.
    The captain returned the salute crisply. Then he shot me a serious look as he leaned forward. “Just make sure your crew picks up the slack. And one more thing, Sokolowski: from now on you are to report all matters to your assistant leader. Understand?”
    â€œYes, sir, I understand perfectly.” I saluted the captain and left his quarters.
    When I returned to my tent, I shared the news with the guys. We were all happy that the captain would give Stosh another chance once he came back to camp. Supper tasted extra good that night. Our spirits were high because we were certain that Stosh would return soon.
    That night thunder rumbled off in the distance. We were headed for rough weather once again—and rougher times.

Chapter 17
The Storm
    J ust before lights out, Mike burst into our tent. The violence of lightning was in his eyes, and thunder was in his voice. He scanned the tent and settled his attention on me. His chest rose and fell with each breath. Mike was seething with anger. “You!” he commanded as he pointed his finger at me, “Outside! Now!”
    I knew I was about to get chewed out for going directly to the captain. Mike stormed out of the tent, and I followed him outside. Pick and Yasku looked at me sheepishly as I passed by their bunks and into the night. I half-expected that my friends would get up and follow me out of the tent in order to share Mike’s rage, but that wasn’t about to happen. The roll of thunder was coming closer and closer.
    Once on the parade grounds, Mike turned to face me. His fists clenched. “What gives you the right to go to the captain behind my back?”
    â€œWhat? I didn’t go behind your back.” The lie tumbled out of my mouth. I knew full well that I had gone behind O’Shea’s back. For some reason I wasn’t willing to fess up to it.
    Guys who were out for an evening stroll took to walking on the other side of the parade grounds when they heard Mike starting in on me. Here and there you could see heads popping out from underneath tent flaps. Those who enjoyed gossip would have a good story to tell in the morning.
    â€œWell, mister, a chain of command exists in this outfit. It’s pretty simple, even for an idiot like you.” Mike poked his finger hard into my chest. “You don’t go to the captain. Understand?” He poked me again, harder. “If you’ve got a question . . . if you’ve got a problem . . . if you’ve got a gripe . . . you come to me. You don’t go to the captain. I go to the captain. Got it?”
    I scanned his eyes in the low light of nightfall. “I was just trying to help Stosh. That’s all.”
    Mike grabbed me by the shirt with both hands. Rough arms pulled me close to his face. The smell of onions on his breath was sickening. “I don’t like you. In fact, I don’t like your little Polack buddies either. I should have cleaned your clock the first day I met you on the train. Now you go directly behind my back and beg the captain to save that lazy Stosh’s job. Don’t you ever go behind my back again.”
    â€œI-I-I was j-just trying to help my friend,” I said. “I didn’t mean any harm by it.”
    His anger shocked me. Mike shook me furiously, nearly ripping my clothes. “Listen and listen good,” he said. “I don’t care one iota about what you were trying