Petition (rough draft)
Dear comrade major Respected Maj Dear deeply respected Comrade Major Ráday, I’m writing you a letter instead of talking to you in person, because in person it’s not so easy, not so easy to be clear, not so easy to say things intelligibly. Because a hearin Because it would take a long time for me to get an appointment for a hearing through our hierarchically organized system, plus it’d be hard to express my feelings using army language, and impossible using the official terminology of our organization. Especially for me, because unfortunately I have a little stu stu And right now I’m confused, because I’ve always had a clean record, and you maj Comrade Major have always been satisfied with me and you even complimented me on multiple occasions. For example, for my qualifying results I have received 3 complimentary days off, and only 2 tenth of a point was missing for me to reach the rank of Excellent Soldier, and 2 tenth is almost nothing and 2 tenth is nothing. I also won the kilián milit the Gold Kilián Military Exercise Badge. My intention is not to brag, the only reason why I’m mentioning it is because I want to prove that I have always tried hard, so that there would be no complaints about me, and that’s exactly why it hurts me that there is a complaint now. In other words, Comrade Major, when you were the officer on duty you rightfully could have thought that I wanted to make a mockery of the situation when I said when I reported that there are problems with the schedule regarding the guard posts. But there was no intention of mockery on my part, I did not want to mock anyone, and definitely did not want to fuck your life up Comrade Major, as you so kindly expressed yourself Comrade Major. And now I’m turning to You with this petition to ask, to request, if there is a way, Comrade Major, if it’s possible, to please never again appoint me to be the sergeant of the guard. But this doesn’t mean that Do not think that or do not believe that with this request I’m trying to find a loophole to get myself out of my responsibility, or that this is an act of sabotage. Under no circumstances do I want to boycott guard duty. My request only aims at making sure that when it’s our turn next, my wish would be to be a guard, only a simple guard. SO NOT A SERGEANT OF THE GUARD. I hope that I think that my request won’t cause any difficulties, given that we have 4 non-commissioned officers in our company, and 3 of them are corporals: Sarlai, Tóth, Kustyán, and I’m the fourth one, a private first class, and since we get a turn 2 times or at most 3 times every month, there are enough corporals and each corporal will be a sergeant of the guard at most once, and I’m just a private first class anyway, and if you assign them to the position, then there won’t be any need for me. Perhaps certainly Comrade Major you’ll be surprised about my request or will think of it as strange, since non-commissioned officers are always in competition with each other to be the sergeant of the guard, because if one must be on duty then it’s much better to be a sergeant of the guard than to be standing outside at a guard post, though he has a lot of responsibilities on his shoulders, but still, he can sit in the office that belongs to the sergeant of the guard, where he has his own bed, while the guards’ sleeping quarters have 6 beds, hard as a rock, and only 6 people can be asleep at a time, given that another 6 are always on duty outside, and another 6 are on standby, sitting in the guardroom, so overall the number of the guards is 18, plus the 2 who lead the lines of guards, plus the sergeant of the guard, so a total of 21 people 21 persons 21 soldiers 21 men. And there is always a mixed group of guards, usually that’s the case, meaning the 21 men must come from two companies, like for example now it’s our and the gunners’ turn. And last time when we were placed together with the gunners, the sergeant of the guard was chosen from among them, Sergeant Vincze, and this time the sergeant of the guard was from among us, namely me. Because Comrade Major you appointed me. Needless to say I had to make the schedule for the guards, which is the right and the responsibility of the sergeant of the guard. And that’s what caused the hitch in the plan, which I told you about wanted to tell you about Comrade Major, but you were fucking mad at me you yelled at me, when this really is a hitch, and I wouldn’t even have thought how serious of a hitch it was, because until now I had only been a sergeant of the guard once, assigned as a last-minute replacement. Because Colonel Kustyán started to retch like a dog that ate too much at a wedding Because Colonel Kustyán had an upset stomach, and he ended up in the infirmary. But he already had made the schedule, so I didn’t have to. So this was the very first time I had to. There are 6 guard posts and 18 men and they need to be assigned to these posts. The guard posts need to be written down with enough space in front of them and behind them: 1) fuel depot: 2) ammunition depot: 3) firearm repair shop: 4) back fence: 5) front fence: 6) combat machine base: just like this, with colons. And then after each one you have to write 3 names and number them, meaning the 3 men who will be replacing each other in order, 2 hours on duty, 2 hours on standby, 2 hours rest, which means sleeping. In addition, guards need to be assigned to watch the guardroom, where people men guards need to be replaced every hour according to the rules. But since the headcount is 18, and there are 24 hours in 1 day, sadly 6 people will have a turn twice, ergo they’ll do double duty by the guardroom. Of course you have to be careful not to double-book anyone, because no one can be standing by the guardroom and outside at another post at the same time, because it’s impossible to be in 2 places at once. Besides, what makes scheduling more difficult is that those who are on a break who are sleeping they can’t be watching the guardroom, only those can who are on standby, that’s the rule, so that everyone can get enough rest, because a tired guard is no good guard, as they say as we say as you say Comrade Major. It’s not easy to figure all this out, it’s like moving pieces around on a chessboard to make sure that everything works out perfectly. And so I ripped a piece of paper into smaller pieces, and each piece of paper became a guard, meaning that I wrote their names on them. Then all I had to do was push the pieces of paper around on the table, and it all made sense, this method prevented any mistakes, and by dinnertime I was done with the schedule. After that I just had to look it over for the sake of clarity, which is really important, so there wouldn’t be a ruckus or a screw-up. Then I went to sleep, which is irrelevant. I woke up, and I thought it was morning and the alarm was going off. Someone was poking my arm to wake up. This someone was Kóci otherwise known as Private Pali Rákóci. He asked me what the hell was this. What is what, I said, surprised, not understanding what was going on. Private Rákóci then began to mimic me, mock me, said that I stuttered, but it was due to my sleepiness, and yes I did stutter when I was a small child, but it already went away, and it only comes back when I’m tired or upset. By then I could see in the dark that next to my bed stood Lajos, Köcsög, and Kishanák, also Soós, Csik and Hanák, all of them conscripts, fellow conscripts. Fellas, what the f Well, what is it, I asked, wanting to know why they woke me up an hour and a half past our curfew actually an hour and forty-five minutes past our curfew, when I was already asleep, since we had guard duty the next day, and a tired guard is no good guard, and this goes for the sergeant of the guard too, and not even the sergeant of the guard is an exception. They all talked, interrupted each other, said this wasn’t fair, and that I needed to make corrections, and they cursed my mother and swore. It was beginning to dawn on me that they had a beef with me because of the schedule. I suspected this when Kóci, a.k.a. Private Rákóci, shoved a piece of paper in my face and waved it back and forth. I took it away from him, so that he wouldn’t crumble it up, because then I would have to start all over again, and no one wants to do that in the middle of the night. I was beginning to suspect that they were not happy with their shifts. But that was not up for discussion, because this is the army and not a brothel, and it is the sergeant of the guard’s job to do the schedule, and the guards have to obey the order, and a schedule is an order, and the sergeant of the guard, regardless of his rank, is the guards’ superior, which is evident from his title. However, we’re all from the same village, and I’ve known these men since childhood, we’ve been friends forever, and we always stick together and help each other. We always share all the food we receive in the care packages from back home, we offer each other a few bites. Another example of sharing is when Köcsög hooked up with a prostit a woman in the city when he was on a short leave then Kishanák also Anyway the four of us are friends, though this doesn’t matter when we’re on duty, but if someone is raising a ruckus, then we must find out what the hell is wrong with him, especially if that person is a childhood friend. Slowly others around us woke up to the noise, and they were throwing boots and pillows at us and told us to shut up. This was understandable, because they wanted to sleep, especially those who had guard duty the next day, because a tired guard is etc. So I climbed down from the top bunk where I sleep, above Private Rákóci, and therefore we share a locker, which explains why he could have seen the schedule, because I put it in the locker, on top of my folded uniform, so that in the morning it would be easy to grab. But Kóci got to it first. We then went over to one of the classrooms, and I asked what his what their problem was with the schedule. The one I carefully put together and worked on for a long time. In that case, you’re a total jerk, they said. You can all go to hell, damn it, who’s the jerk and why are you calling me a jerk What’s the problem, I asked, as Lajos was separating us. Private Kóci’s nose was bleeding a little, so we told him to tilt his head back. He kept going berserk even with his head tilted back, and insisted that I was a jerk, what’s more, a rotten jerk, because I assigned them to be on guard by the back fence. And that it was the worst guard post, because it’s the one furthest from the guardroom, and that adds extra time to the two-hour shift, because it takes a while for the next shift to arrive, and out of the whole gang they get the short end of the stick, because then they’ll have to do a double shift by the guardroom too, because they’ll be the ones starting there, and then they’ll have another turn later, given how the 18 men fit into a 24-hour schedule. I told them this wasn’t intentional, it just turned out to be this way, and it never occurred to me that this would be a problem. Then Kishanák said that’s exactly the problem. So even Kishanák was throwing a fit, though he was not assigned to the back fence, but to the fuel depot, so I told him that he had no reason to be upset whatsoever, he only had to be by the guardroom once, so he needed to shut the f he needed to stay quiet. But he didn’t stay quiet, and Lajos thought that Kishanák was right about the fuel depot, it wasn’t the best place either, because it had a large area surrounding it, and there wasn’t even an actual guard post there, so if it rained that meant you got bronchitis right away. And then Köcsög chimed in too and told me that I was seriously fucking with my friends by assigning them to the worst posts, and it was really mean and they didn’t expect that from me. By then they were so upset that all four of them talked at the same time. I showed them the pieces of paper, this wasn’t my fault, there are six guard posts and 18 pieces of paper, plus the guardroom, not to mention those who are on standby, so it wasn’t easy to make everything work out well, but fine, I’ll rewrite the damn schedule just to make them happy. That’s the least you could do for us, said Kóci, his head still tilted back. That made me mad, why was he being such a jerk, when I could just totally refuse to rewrite the schedule, this is the army, not a brothel, and I was willing to do it only for the sake of our friendship and so on. He told me not to heckle them, which was a totally maddening thing to say, who do they think they are, I was so polite to them, and that’s how they behave, accusing me of heckling them, who the hell is heckling them, it’s not me that’s for sure, they can go f They are idiots, and when Private Köcsög pinned me to the ground my nose started to bleed too, and they told me to tilt me head back, you idiots, don’t you think I already know that you’re supposed to tilt your head back So then, just to show them who they were dealing with, I started to assign them to different posts, fine with me, but truth be told it was a lot of extra work, especially at night, especially with my nose bleeding. And I kept moving around the pieces of paper until everything got rearranged, and that took a long time, but in the end I was able to assign Privates Rákóci and Soós to the ammunition depot for first and second shifts, and Privates Csik and Hanák to the combat machine base, also first and second shifts, this way all four of them will have to be by the guardroom for only one hour, and from there the ammunition depot is the closest guard post, and the combat machine base isn’t too far either, it’s the third closest. Here you go, I showed them, now you can all go to hell, you can all go to sleep, because a tired guard is etc., and I still have to look everything over, you can all kiss my ass good night. But they didn’t go to sleep at all, and instead they came to me with a new request, which was beyond rude. That they want to be assigned to the firearm repair shop. Because that’s the best guard post, and they want to go there. They want to. Just like that. First of all, I told them that it was impossible, because only 3 guards could be assigned to one post, and there were 4 of them. No problem, they said, I should assign 3 of them to the firearm repair shop, and 1 to the ammunition depot. What can you say to that? They wanted that setup because the firearm repair shop, the number 3 post is only a night post, so unlike the other guard post, a guard is only needed there from 8 at night till 8 in the morning, which is a total of 12 hours, and therefore each guard has to stand there only half the time as elsewhere, meaning 2 hours 2 times. This is very advantageous. And that’s why they wanted to be at the firearm repair shop, because being there is kind of like a half shift, and during the day they could hang out in the guardroom. And the ultimate and rudest request was that they wanted me to make the schedule from now on so that they would have to watch the guardroom only once. So basically they were looking for the easier solution, the easiest solution there was. But I objected. Because that would be me doing favors for them. Just because they were my friends, why should they do half as much as the others, how would that look, I asked. But they said I shouldn’t question anything, when I had the nerve to give the asshole gunners the post next to the firearm repair shop. Have you lost your mind? they asked furiously, saying that this was really mean to our company too, this and that, and they kept scolding me. I decided to remain calm no matter what, so I quietly told them that I paid no attention to who was a gunner and who wasn’t, the only thing I cared about was that the shifts worked out evenly, the guardroom watch, the standbys, and the rest periods, so that everything would be in order. In that case, we don’t give a shit about you, they said, how terrible that you’re not willing to do any favors for your friends, then our friendship isn’t worth anything. Don’t even joke about that, I said, because our friendship is a serious matter, and I’ve always respected it. Fine, they said, then assign us to be by the firearm repair shop, otherwise there will be no friendship. Then there is no friendship, I said, having seen that they’ve completely lost their minds. You idiots, nothing is good enough for you, I rearranged everything just for you, which was a lot of work, screw it all, I’m not going to do you any favors, so that I could be accused of cheating the system for the sake of my friends. There is no cheating, they said as they attacked me, somebody had to be assigned to the firearm repair shop, and if you don’t assign that post to us then you’ll assign it someone else, and if you don’t favor us then you’ll favor someone else, and if someone is going to get lucky then why should the asshole gunners be the ones and not us. It’s really interesting, they said, that when the sergeant of the guard is from among the gunmen, then he always sends our men to the back fence, so basically to the shittiest posts, and that’s a fact. Because everyone favors their own, one hand washes the other, that’s how it goes. And they yapped and jabbered, so nothing could be discussed with all that noise. But nothing had to be discussed, said Private Rákóci, all I had to do was put their names down. And then I didn’t know what to do. It was already eleven thirty, so very late. I hesitated. Because truth be told, I don’t like injustice. In my family my father only beat us children, me and my four siblings, if we lied or if someone took someone else’s things. And we always shared our food fairly among us. And everything else too. Because that’s the way to do it. When back in school we learned that during the French Revolution there was LIBERTY EQUALITY FRATERNITY, I liked it so much that I wrote it on the wall in our house. And my dear mother got very upset, because the interior walls had been freshly painted, though that is irrelevant. And ever since then this has been my motto. Plus equal pay for equal work, because when I was working for a bricklayers’ brigade, and the foreman didn’t want to pay me for the days when there was no work, because I was a newbie, the others stood up for me. For justice. Because that’s more important than anything and it must be respected. But the same goes for friendships. Like when Kóci saved me from a fishpond where I was drowning. That’s why I didn’t die back then. And that autumn I helped build their house every Sunday with Lajos and Köcsög and Kishanák. Because we always knew that we had to stick together. And when some kids from the last row of houses in our village wanted to beat up Köcsög because of a girl named Borcsa, we protected him. Because we knew that it wasn’t fair, because Borcsa was a slut and a bad woman. Or when they wanted to throw the lame Singer out of the pub, we didn’t allow it, because it was unfair that he couldn’t drink there just because he is a Swabian and is handicapped. And later that night we had a nice little talk with the bartender behind the pub about how things should be and then we kic Because we always But right now Currently I was at a loss. The arguing continued, during which my 4 friends my 4 fellow comrades spoke against me, attacked me, and I was completely confused. Because once again they claimed that if I don’t assign them to the post next to the firearm repair shop, then I’m going to fuck with them ruin it for them. Because then they’ll get the short end of the stick, whether or not their friend is in charge. And at the same time others will benefit from their loss. And that’s not fair, said my friends. But it was all a bit murky. Because when the president of the state agricultural corporation in our village appointed his lover to be the leader of the fishermen’s brigade, then we were all up in arms that it was unfair and a deception. And this is the same situation now if I assign my friends to be at the good guard posts, even though friends are not the same as lovers, but still. I became discoura I became disheartened. Kóci and the others were relentless, saying that everyone was doing it this way. So that means everyone is a crook. This is not cheating the system, replied Kishanák, because today it’s my turn, tomorrow it’s yours. Sooner or later everyone will get a turn. What goes around comes around. But my father always said that if someone jumped into a water well, we shouldn’t jump in after him, meaning if someone does something stupid, it doesn’t mean that we also If someone cheats the system, that doesn’t give me the right to cheat too, because the most important thing is justice. But Kóci is my They are my frien So this makes no sense to me whatsoever. I have to think about it. But while I was thinking, Kóci and the others left me behind, they were mad, they slammed the classroom door really hard, and that woke others up on the other side of the wall, and then I heard boots being thrown against the wall, that’s where they threw them, rightfully so, because they couldn’t sleep, and as we know, a tired guard is etc. So I found myself left alone, with the schedule in my hands, to be exact, without the schedule, because Köcsög tore up the original one, and he and the others threw the strips of paper all over the room, so I had to start everything from square one. And by then it was 1:45 a.m., and I didn’t have another piece of paper, and going into the room where everyone was sleeping was dangerous, it was best to wait until everyone fell back asleep, or they’d throw things at me, so I waited. Suddenly it was morning, and I woke up with my head on a table, my whole body hurt, and there was no new schedule. The morning bugle call had already sounded, we had to go wash up, and get dressed. Kóci and the others didn’t even acknowledge my hello, they turned their heads the other way, what idiots, what should I do now, what should be next. I thought about going over to the gunners to talk to them. I wanted to tell them that I will assign my friends to the firearm repair shop, but not because I wanted to show favor toward them, but for the sake of justice, and because the gunners always do the same thing for their friends too. The gunners can surely understand this no matter what big assholes they are. But what happens to those priva to those men What happens to those who don’t have any friends, what will happen to them, then they’ll simply be always screwed they’ll always be unlucky. For example Private Fenyvesi is a nice guy too, but he’s just like my godfather, he’s on bad terms with everyone, kind of an introvert, so he must always get the worst of everything the worst of the worst, and that’s really unfair, regardless of what Kóci says. Maybe we should draw lots to decide the order, we should pull names out of a hat, let fate decide. But if I draw lots, it would be in vain if, for example, the gunmen didn’t draw lots, then everything would be out of order again, and that would be unfair, even though I drew lots, but the others always favor their friends their buddies their comrades, you scratch my back I scratch your back. Which means that this system wouldn’t work either. Finally I thought I decided that I would seek your advice Comrade Major, because Comrade Major you always say that you’re a strict man but a fair man, which is true, and therefore by now Comrade Major you must understand why I asked permission to report to you when you Comrade Major ordered us to be at ease during the changing of the guard, but it was definitely a mistake that I didn’t come to you sooner, but there was never any time, and without a guard schedule it is not wise to go the guardroom, so that moment right there was my last chance. And that’s why I asked for permission to report to you, Comrade Major, then I corrected myself and said that I wanted to ask your permission to ask a question, to seek your advice, which surprised you which made you mad, you yelled at me, told me do not ask questions now, private, you’re on duty not in summer school, which made the other guards laugh. But I had to continue because of the schedule, and I started to tell you the problem, what the hitch was, but Comrade Major you didn’t hear me out, because by then of course I was stuttering, so you yelled at me, you distinctly ordered me not to take you for a fool, otherwise you’d slap me across the face so hard that my testicles would fall off, and that any hitches I have I should take up with my f-ing mother. I wanted to further explain, but I couldn’t stop stuttering, the guards were laughing and Comrade Major you were really upset, told me not to fuck your life up, and if I didn’t shut up, you’d have me thrown in jail, and we privates are wrong if we think we rule the world, and this is the army not a brothel, and you Comrade Major are a good man, but only until we make you lose your patience. And you said you were disappointed in me because you thought I was more serious than that, and how could I spew stupidity in front of you when it wasn’t even April 1st. What hurt me the most Comrade Major was that you thought that you assumed that when all I wanted was to be fair to everyone strict but fair but then there was so much commotion in the guardroom that I just randomly assigned the guards and everyone grumbled and the whole thing turned into a shitshow and therefore I’m asking you to please never again appoint me to be the sergeant of the guard because now I’m totally confused and there is a big lump in my throat from trying to hold back my tears because kóci spit at my feet when a fellow guard was taking him to the front fence guard post even though we’ve been inseparable since childhood and I will make sure that they will each have guardroom duty only once, 1 shift for lajos, 1 for köcsög, and 1 for kishanák, 1 and only 1 shift
Translator’s Note:
“Petition (rough draft)” is a recalcitrant and darkly amusing short story written by renowned Hungarian author Miklós Vámos. Its dense plot propels readers into the epicenter of one of the most intimidating places: the army, more specifically, the Hungarian army of the seventies. The title includes the words “rough draft,” because that’s the joke on which the nontraditional writing style hinges, as readers will realize the moment they start reading. The story is written as if it were an actual rough draft of a letter that a private is writing to his major.
Buoyed by a sharp sense of humor and authenticity, the plot is inspired by real-life events, and it shines a light on a grueling collective experience unfamiliar to most of us nowadays. The narrative depicts the multilayered, complicated, and emotionally charged connections among soldiers during their time spent together. Once young men were conscripted into the Hungarian army, they became members of a community where they had to live together in tight quarters, endure rigorous training, and navigate the everyday unpredictability of a harsh environment that did not pamper or cater to its members. Mandatory military training existed in Hungary (and many other Warsaw Pact countries) for decades and, per the author’s admission, the time he had to spend in training as a private—right before he started his first year at the prestigious Eötvös Loránd University in Budapest in the early eighties—was one of the darkest periods of his life.
It is the author’s desire to show what it felt like to be under the thumb of an authoritarian organization that not only thrived on constantly intimidating its so-called family members, but it also tested and provoked the strength of lifelong friendships, as it is painfully evident in this seemingly simple story that carries a lot of weight. Eastern European army officers in charge of military training during the Cold War years (and beyond) were feared authoritarian figures, whose shadows haunted their inferiors for years on end. Writing this story during the time when Hungary was still a communist country was a bold move; its ferocious honesty and genuine tone could have gotten Vámos in a lot of trouble. Yet, it somehow managed to go under the radar, and even got published in a literary magazine shortly after it was written. Since then, it has been published numerous times as part of a collection of short stories still in bookstores today.
Rendering the tangled up thoughts of this small-town young private into English was truly a unique experience. He is nervous and struggles to put his thoughts on paper because he has no previous experience writing a letter like this. He tries his best to come up with the proper words to address an irksome issue with his major, but his thoughts spread out into many directions, yielding a writing style that is unsteady but really funny. I made sure to keep to the same abrupt halts that are present in the original in order to mimic his burgeoning thoughts. I enjoyed surrendering myself to the respectful but unsophisticated tone of a narrator who often stops and restarts mid-sentence (sometimes even mid-word) while recounting personal anecdotes to make his case in hopes of bettering part of a rigid tiered system. Finding the right rhythm was a delightful task not only because it was somewhat challenging, but also because despite the tense premise of the story, it was immensely entertaining and had me laugh out loud numerous times. Last but not least, it is important to mention that the young private has a stutter that comes out when he’s nervous or tired; while it is only subtly present in the letter, it is always present in his mind and is also mentioned a few times throughout the letter when he recalls difficult moments.
Miklós Vámos is a Hungarian writer who has had over forty books published, many of them in multiple languages. His most successful book is The Book of Fathers, which has been translated into nearly thirty languages, including English. Vámos’s ancestors on his father’s side were Jews who perished in the Holocaust. Fortunately, his father, a member of a penitentiary march battalion, survived. In an effort to save himself from his chaotic heritage, he turned to writing novels. His selected writings have appeared in various publications, including Asymptote, the Forward, Hungarian Literature Online, The New York Times, and Tablet.
Ági Bori originally hails from Hungary, and she has lived in the United States for more than thirty years. In addition to translating between Hungarian and English, her favorite avocation is reading Russian short stories in the original. Her translations and writings are available or forthcoming in 3:AM, Apofenie, Asymptote, The Baffler, B O D Y, the Forward, Hopscotch Translation, Hungarian Literature Online, Litro Magazine, Maudlin House, The Rumpus, Tablet, Trafika Europe, Turkoslavia, and elsewhere. She is a translation editor at the Los Angeles Review.
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