Copyright 8/15 by Kirby's Cowgirl

Fan-Fiction based on TV Show Combat! Copyright Selmur Production, Inc, ABC, Image

Productions etc.

Disclaimer: Combat! and its characters do not belong to me, this WWII story is a piece of fan-fiction and I am not being compensated in any tangible way for this story.

The Bankroll Redux

Lieutenant Hanley stopped the jeep outside the hospital. At least Jettleman wasn't dead. Maybe he wouldn't see the kid's face when he tried to sleep, the way he did all those other poor dead men. Some of them looked at him accusingly. Some of them were just confused, like they didn't know what had happened to them.

Those long horrid weeks when they thought that Grady was dead, it had been Grady's face he'd seen, though he hadn't been on the patrol when Grady had been shot. He'd worried that Saunders was going to drink himself to death. He'd worried that Doc was going to collapse under the strain of constantly watching Saunders. He'd been afraid that something would happen to another squad member, and he knew that that would push Saunders completely over the edge. And he'd been helpless to do anything about it.

And then the business with Brown… Now it was Sergeant Hall's face he saw when he tried to sleep. As horrid as the War was, all the things he'd seen and done, he'd never had to shoot one of his own men. He prayed that he never would. He swallowed hard. He was sure that he had finally pieced together what had happened. Being able to prove it was another matter.

He'd visit with Littlejohn and the kid. At least Jettleman wasn't dead. And if he could do it without upsetting the kid, he had some hard questions for the giant.

He spotted Littlejohn in a corner bed. "How's the leg?" he asked quietly, noting that Jettleman appeared to be asleep.

"Not too bad." The giant answered. "They said I should be in here four or five days unless it gets infected. I'm sorry, Lieutenant."

Only Littlejohn would apologize for getting shot. He knew how shorthanded they were, with Saunders off in charge of Beckley's squad after Beckley had been shot again. The shortage of qualified Sergeants had left Hanley leading Saunders squad and doing his own work as well.

Jettleman stirred, and whatever he had in his hand fell to the floor.

"Not again." Littlejohn said. "I can't reach it, Lieutenant. Can you -?"

Hanley raised his hand for the giant to hush before they woke up Jettleman. He leaned down between the two beds and couldn't control his gasp at the wad of money in the floor.

"Where'd he get this?" he whispered to Littlejohn.

"That's his half of what Kirby won at poker. I'm really surprised that Farley paid off all those IOU's, I was sure he was going to welsh on them too."

Jettleman came awake, looked frantically over at Littlejohn, and said, "My money!"

"It's right here, private." Hanley said, raising up from the floor. "Wouldn't you like for me to send this home for you so you don't have to worry about it?"

"You can do that?"

"I can do that." Hanley assured him, noting the pain and exhaustion on the kid's face.

"Gosh, thanks, Lieutenant! My wife -" he stopped and grinned. "We're gonna have a baby!"

"That's great, Jettleman." Hanley very gently laid a hand on the kid's unijured shoulder. He had an IV running in one arm and plasma in the other.

"I'm buyin' a gas station." And his eyes drooped, and he was asleep again.

At Hanley's alarmed look, Littlejohn said, "He just keeps fadin' in and out like that. The Doctor said it was ok, he's tryin' to fight off the drugs. I told him I would keep watch for him, that I wouldn't let anybody take his money." The giant looked embarrassed.

"Thank you, Littlejohn. Can I do anything for you?"

"No sir, I'm fine. I really appreciate you helpin' Jettleman out." He gestured to the money in Hanley's hand.

"I'm sure Doc and the rest of the men will be by when they get off duty." Hanley said. "I'll be back tomorrow."

"Have you heard anything from the Sarge?" Littlejohn asked. Saunders had been away from the squad for three weeks, and they all missed him.

"He's alright. Just tired like everybody else."

"Thank you, Lieutenant."

"Littlejohn, Farley was with you just before we secured the church, wasn't he?"

The giant hesitated. "No sir."

"Well where was he?"

"He ducked into the building behind us."

"Did he find cover and hide?"

"I think so." Littlejohn said, and looked mortified. As long as the giant had breath in his body, he would have been looking out for his buddies.

"That's not a reflection on the squad." Hanley said, trying to clamp down on his temper. " Farley's a coward. If you need something, tell one of the squad and I'll try and get it for you."

"Thank you." Littlejohn said again.

Hanley stepped into his CP, noting the exhaustion on Sergeant Hall's face. It hadn't really been fair to put him in charge as soon as he came in from patrol, but he'd been afraid that Jettleman was dying, and he wanted to at least speak to the kid. Doc had told him that the Doctor said the kid would be ok, but he'd looked so bad out in the field. He'd seen too many green kids die.

" It's quiet." Hall said. Then, mistaking the look on Hanley's face. "Did the kid not make it?"

"No, they said he's gonna be alright. And Littlejohn should be back on the line in about a week." Hanley sighed. "I need to ask you something."

"About Brown." Hall said, and the pain in his voice was still there.

"None of it was your fault." Hanley said again. If he kept saying it, somebody might start to believe it. Hall never would. Maybe when he got home, his wife could help him, if he would talk to her about it. It had taken Hanley almost two months, but he thought he had finally pieced together what had happened. A green recruit named Ferguson had shanked Hall's BAR man for no apparent reason. Hall's medic, he couldn't even remember the kid's name, had tried to separate them, while yelling for help, and gotten sliced up himself. Hall had shot and killed Ferguson when he wouldn't stand down. Brown had died, they'd had to send the medic home. "Did Farley owe Brown some money?"

Hall reached in his breast pocket where he kept his wife and daughter's picture, and pulled out a stack of papers that he handed to Hanley.

"What's this?" Hanley asked, before glancing down and seeing they were IOU's, all from Farley. "How much?" he asked, his frown deepening.

"Five hundred."

"Why do you have them?"

Hall shrugged. Hanley knew what that meant, though the two of them would not say it out aloud. If Hall caught Farley with a large amount of money, he would beat the crap out of him and make sure the money got sent to Brown's widow.

"Does he owe Grady too?"

"Probably." Hall shrugged. "Grady said he was a cheat. I knew he was a welsher, that's why I got rid of him. I couldn't –" he stopped.

Normally, Hanley made his Sergeant's settle disputes among their men themselves. But Hall had point blank told him that Farley had to go, that he was not losing another BAR man. Two scraps between Farley and Grady had been two more than he wanted to handle. And since Hall was a valued Sergeant, Hanley had transferred Farley to Saunders squad.

Saunders would have sorted out Farley almost immediately, but he was running Beckley's squad until they could find a replacement. Joe Farley never stayed long in anybody's squad. Hanley didn't like the man, but he hadn't faulted him until Jettleman had been wounded. Farley had offered some half assed explanation of what had happened, and Kirby hadn't said anything at all, which confirmed his suspicions.

"See if you can find Kirby for me, will you?" Hanley asked.

"Kirby, what did you do now? Lieutenant Hanley wants you." Hall asked, as he spotted the Irishman playing cards with Grady.

"Nuthin." Kirby said, and then he slammed his mouth shut and looked annoyed. That damn Farley had whined to Hanley that he'd hit him. He was pretty sure he'd at least cracked a couple of the bastard's ribs, but he didn't care. Given the opportunity, he'd do it again.

"Well I hope you didn't do it on my watch." Hall said, figuring that would at least get a grin out of Kirby.

"I'm not sorry. I'd do it again." Kirby said, standing up.

Grady shuffled the cards back into the deck, looked at Hall worriedly, and got to his feet also. The three of them headed for Hanley's CP.

"Sir? You wanted me?" Kirby shifted his BAR to a more comfortable position.

"How much money does Farley owe you?"

Caught off guard, Kirby said, "Four hundred dollars."

"Grady?"

"One fifty. And I wouldn't have let him go over twenty if he hadn't flashed that money order at me."

"I see." Hanley scratched his head. He thought he had finally figured out what had happened. "Brown ever cheat at poker?"

"HELL NO!" Grady burst out, then realized who he was talking to. "No sir." He swallowed hard, looked like he was going to start crying. "He was a good guy. He always helped everybody. I couldn't tell you how many greenies he gave a hand."

"That's what I thought. Go find Farley. And bring Caje back too if you see him."

"They're both on guard duty." Hall said.

"Do you know how much that money order is supposed to be for?" Hanley asked Grady.

"A thousand bucks." Kirby said. "He showed it to me."

"Well that takes care of all of his money." Hanley said, wondering what to do now. "Would you consider -"

"You can give mine to Brown's wife." Grady interrupted.

"You've got a wife of your own now!" Hall protested.

"You know good and well I send most of my money to Kathy every month. If she wants a box of chocolates or some nylons or somethin', I want her to have it. That was my throw away money. Kathy would tell me to give it to the poor woman."

"Just give all of mine to Brown's old lady too." Kirby said. "I know how rough my mama had it tryin' to raise three kids by herself."

"Caje said you were gonna have a bowling alley!" Grady said.

"That was just a pipe dream." Kirby shrugged. "I've never been anything but a street punk and I never will be." he turned his head and swiped at his eyes.

Hall shot Grady a look that Kirby didn't see. "The two of you take over guard duty. Tell Caje and Farley to get back here." If he requested Farley alone, the man was quite likely to run off.

Grady followed Kirby out the door. "OK." He mouthed at Hall.

"Did you tell Grady to watch Kirby?" Hanley asked.

"Yes sir." At Hanley's expression, "Grady may be a jackass but he's got a really strong sense of right and wrong. Kirby's really tore up over Jettleman gettin' shot. Something tells me Farley had something to do with that too."

"I think so too."

"You wanted us, sir?" Caje asked, as he and Farley stepped in the door.

"Farley, give that money order you have to Sergeant Hall." Hanley said.

Farley started to refuse, and then he saw the way that Hall smiled. He wasted no time in digging it out of his wallet and handing it to the Sergeant.

"Thousand bucks." Hall said, handing it to Hanley.

"I'm sorry, Sergeant. You'll have to keep charge of my CP for awhile longer. Farley, Caje, and I are going to take a ride to the finance officer."

"You can't take my money!" Farley whined.

"I'm not taking your money. I'm paying off the debt you owe Brown. And if I could prove that you were cheating in that poker game that cost him his life, you would be in Leavenworth." Hanley looked at the paper in his hand. "Of course, if this isn't real, you may wind up there anyway."

The fear on Farley's face was apparent, and he took half a step towards the door before Hall grabbed his arm, still grinning. Caje had already blocked the exit, his rifle up.

"Farley will not be coming back with us, Sergeant Hall." Hanley continued." He'll never have a chance to hurt one of my men again. I'm having him re-assigned to Graves Registration."