Disclaimer: You know the drill...the squad belongs to ABC, not me. I don't make any money from this, it's just for fun.
Copyright 2001
"Billy Takes a Stand"
Billy plodded ahead of the others, ostensibly keeping an eye out for Germans, but in reality...lost in thought. Why did Sarge choose HIM for this? Was it because the sergeant didn't trust him enough to stay and help hold the village? Or because he DID trust him enough to get the others safely back to the aid station? Dragging his thoughts back to the task at hand, he wiped his sleeve across his face. It had started out quite chilly when they'd left for the village at the crack of dawn, but it was becoming uncomfortably warm as the sun approached its noon position.
Glancing back at the others, Billy couldn't help the disgust he felt for the man walking behind him. Powell. The man is a jerk, he thought to himself. *Always calling me "kid", and treating me like a green recruit. Heck, I've been on the front line longer than he has.* Powell was always trying to get out of duty...especially if that duty might require getting shot at. Nelson suspected that that might be why the man had volunteered to help Doc carry Caje back to the aid station. He guessed Powell felt safer doing that, than holding the village til the platoon from Baker Company showed up.
Shaking his head slightly to clear his thoughts once more, Billy peered at the man on the litter. Caje looked more peaceful than he had earlier. Maybe he was doing better. Doc's face still wore a frown, so maybe not. Although, the frown could be from carrying the litter so far. The medic must get awfully tired from carrying litters all the time, he mused.
Returning his attention to his surroundings, he led the others in silence. They hadn't gone much further, when Powell demanded that they stop and rest. "C'mon guys, let's stop for five; my arms are killing me."
Glancing back at Doc, Billy locked eyes with the medic. Doc shook his head, still frowning. They needed to keep moving.
"Sorry, Powell. Doc says we keep going."
Powell muttered something under his breath for a minute, then made a disgusted sound. "Doc says, Doc says. I didn't hear him say anything. 'Sides, he's just a private same as us. Who put him in charge?"
Looking back to see the flash of anger in Doc's eyes, Billy repressed a smile. Powell was gonna hear it for that later. Billy quite looked forward to the spectacle. "Doc doesn't have to say anything, 'cause I can tell what he's thinkin' by the look on his face. And when it comes to the wounded...Doc's in charge. So shut up and keep walkin'."
"Yeah, well I ain't wounded, so he ain't in charge of me. I say we stop."
"You heard me, Powell. Sarge put ME in charge and I say we keep walking. Both us have been on the line longer than you have. You'll live a lot longer if you button your lip and do what we tell you, wiseguy."
Having heard every word, Caje couldn't help the smile that crept to his lips. It wasn't often that he heard Billy stand up for himself like that. Looking up into Doc's weary face, the Cajun wished he could get up off the litter and walk. He knew the wounds weren't that bad, but the blood loss had taken it's toll. The littlest effort made him tired. He wondered if he should tell the others to take a break. He thought better of that idea; he didn't want to undermine Billy's authority with Powell. As a wave of exhaustion washed over him, Caje settled himself more comfortably on the stretcher and drifted into an uneasy sleep.
The sweat trickling down his face itched and Powell longed to wipe it away. His resentment of the others grew with each weary step. Sure he was new, but he was no sap. He knew the score. How dare these guys treat him like a green recruit, he thought to himself. He needed to rest. His arms trembled with the strain of carrying the litter. He couldn't understand why he couldn't switch with Nelson. Sarge had made the order clear, however. Nelson had the point all the way. Part of his anger stemmed from jealousy, though he'd never admit it. None of the others seemed to show any fear. Shifting his grip, Powell's anger went up a notch. How could Doc just keep plodding along when Powell felt like he was going to drop with each weary step he took?
Half an hour later, even Billy was getting tired. Wiping his face yet again, Billy turned to grimace at Doc. "Boy it's gettin' hot."
Giving Nelson a crooked grin, Doc shook his head. "If you think it's warm here in the trees, just wait 'til we run outta shade."
Billy had been hearing the sound of rushing water for a while, but as the trees thinned he could finally see the stream several yards to his left. Oh, how he longed to take off his boots and wade into that cool, clear water. Following the stream with his eyes, he saw a wooden structure about a hundred yards downstream. From this angle, he could just make out the big wooden water wheel.
"Hey Doc, look. It's a gristmill. Maybe we could rest for a minute in there; it'll be nice and cool, and we can get more water for our canteens."
The trembling in Powell's arms hadn't gone unnoticed by the medic, so Doc nodded his assent. He didn't want the private to drop Caje and aggravate the injuries. He had finally gotten the wounds to stop bleeding and didn't want them to start up again. Besides, Doc was about to drop from exhaustion himself.
Deciding it would be safer to stick to the trees until they drew abreast of the mill, Billy led them forward. He kept a sharp eye out for Germans. He doubted there would be any way out here in the middle of nowhere, but he was alert for them just the same.
He became even more wary as they drew closer to the mill. They would have about forty yards of open ground to cross once they left the safety of the treeline. The other two soldiers also kept their eyes peeled for the enemy. None of them saw any sign of Germans.
Nevertheless...they were there.
They headed off to their left, dodging fallen trees and rotting stumps, Billy in the lead. When they were halfway between the mill and the treeline, bullets suddenly tore up the dirt at their feet.
Hitting the ground behind a fallen tree, Billy pinpointed the direction of the enemy fire and opened up with his M-1. Powell unceremoniously dropped his end of the stretcher and curled up behind a tree stump a few feet away. Left in the open, Doc threw himself over Caje in a weak attempt to protect the wounded man.
Yelling at Powell to start shooting, Billy reloaded and returned fire once more. He spared a quick glance at Powell and was thankful to see the private finally picking up his weapon. Billy couldn't do this alone. He heard the reports from the other man's M-1 with welcome relief.
Taking advantage of the cover fire, Doc grabbed Caje by the jacket collar and hauled him behind another fallen tree. Bits of bark flew every which way as bullets tore into their refuge, the sharp splinters cutting the medic's cheek. He leaned over and once again used his body to protect Caje, taking the opportunity to check to see if his efforts had reopened the wounds. So far, so good. He knew that wouldn't last; they couldn't stay there forever. Caje would have to be moved again. His frantic gaze met Caje's and much was said without a word being spoken. They would both do what they had to.
Billy aimed and fired as a German stood from his shelter to lob a grenade. The kraut jerked as the bullet impacted, and the grenade fell short. One down, Nelson thought in satisfaction...he didn't know how many were left.
The explosion a few short yards in front of them blew dirt and debris over the Americans. Powell shot Billy a panicky look. "Grenades! They've got grenades, Nelson. We gotta get outta here!"
Hearing the fright in Powell's voice, Billy paused in his shooting long enough to fix him with an icy glare. "So?! WE have grenades, Powell. Just keep shooting. How do you expect Caje to run very far? We sure ain't leavin' him here!"
Another explosion, this one closer than before, broke Powell's nerve. He dropped his rifle and took off. He ran blindly for the shelter of the woods, ignoring the shouts from Billy and Doc. All he could think about was staying alive, not sparing a single thought for the three men he was leaving behind. His feet pounded the ground as he flew past the tree sheltering Doc and Caje.
When Powell ran past, almost stepping on the huddled pair, Doc tried to stop him. He couldn't believe the obnoxious private was deserting them. Raising up on his knees to grab the man as he ran past, Doc almost got himself shot. Just as the medic sat up to grab Powell, Caje snatched Doc's jacket and yanked him back down. A bullet whined and smacked the ground beside them, narrowly missing the two.
The panicked soldier nearly made it.
Watching helplessly, Doc saw Powell spin from the impact of a bullet to his side. The wounded man fell to the ground, picked himself back up, and stumbled dazedly for the woods. Lead missiles gouged the ground around his feet, but miraculously missed him. Just a few more feet. Just a few more feet and he'd make it.
When Powell faltered and dropped to one knee, Doc made up his mind. Sprinting for the wounded man, he kept as low to the ground as he could, ignoring Caje's shouts behind him. The noise of gunfire seemed to come from all around him. He could see Powell struggling to regain his footing. Almost there, he thought to himself. Almost there.
Hearing Caje's shout, Billy turned his head and felt his heart lurch. Doc was running for all he was worth, trying to reach Powell in time. The wounded goldbrick was staggering toward the woods, away from the medic. Caje lay huddled behind the fallen tree, yelling for Doc to stop, one hand clutching the bandage on his side. Looking back toward the enemy, Billy saw one of the Germans raise up and toss another grenade. Time ceased to exist for one horrifying moment.
That one moment was frozen in time, like a color photograph...forever imprinted in his brain. Caje was behind the log, stretching toward Doc...as if he could stop him if he just reached far enough. The scout's face was etched with pain, exhaustion, and fear for his comrade. Doc was hunched over, trying to make himself a smaller target as he ran, waving at Powell to drop to the ground. Powell had turned toward the others with a strange, surprised look on his face. A deafening sound broke the tableau.
The grenade hit close to Powell. The poor soldier took most of the blast and was killed instantly. To Billy, it was like an unseen hand lifted Doc up and threw him several feet away. The medic's momentum was stopped when he suddenly slammed into a tree. Billy's stomach flip-flopped at the horrifying sound of the impact. Doc fell limply onto his side...and didn't move.
Sharing a brief, terrified look with Caje, Billy shifted behind his sheltering tree and began firing at the Krauts once more. He tried to force his mind to think only of the enemy and not of Doc's unmoving form. Even as he fired repeatedly at the Germans, however, he chanted to himself, "Not Doc. Not Doc. Please...not Doc."
Caje stared at the unmoving figure at the base of the tree, willing him to show some sign of life. He looked back at Billy and could see the younger man's lips moving, talking to himself. Caje couldn't believe things could go so wrong, so quickly. He wished the sergeant were there. Sarge would've been able to keep Doc from making such a foolhardy attempt to reach Powell. Sarge would be able to get them out of this mess. Kirby and Littlejohn wouldn't hurt either, he thought wryly.
Twisting around to look at Doc once more, Caje froze. Was that movement? He waited, chewing on his lower lip in anxiety. There! Yes, that was movement! Caje felt like laughing as he watched Doc's hand reach up to feel his head.
"Billy!"
Sparing Caje a glance, Billy was surprised to see a huge smile plastered on the man's face. It only took a second for Billy to realize what would bring that reaction and his gaze immediately went to Doc. For a moment, he couldn't understand why Caje had looked so elated. Then he saw the medic moving his legs. A huge burden lifted from Billy's shoulders. Doc was alive. Nelson realized that if the medic started moving around too much, he might not STAY alive.
His thoughts racing, Billy finally came up with a plan. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a grenade. Removing the pin, he climbed to his knees and threw the grenade as far as he could from that position. Not waiting for the explosion, he jumped to his feet and ran for Powell's discarded M-1. Reaching down as he opproached the tree stump, and in one fluid motion, Billy snatched up the weapon and threw himself towards Caje. Landing with a thump that nearly drove the breath from his lungs, he rolled over and took cover.
Taking the rifle from Billy, Caje propped himself up by the fallen tree and began firing. "Good job, Billy. You need another grenade?"
"No, I've got two left. You?"
"Two."
They both ducked as splinters of wood went flying when the Germans returned fire. Billy grabbed another grenade and looked at Caje. "Ready?"
Receiving a terse nod, Nelson once again got to his knees and lobbed a grenade. He lurched to his feet and ran for Doc. Grabbing him by the collar, he pulled the semiconscious medic behind the large tree and leaned around the trunk, firing off a few shots to give Caje time to use one of his grenades. As soon as the grenade left the scout's hand, Billy slipped his M-1 on his shoulder and hauled Doc to his feet. Draping the medic's arm around his neck, Billy half-carried Doc over to Caje. They both dropped to the ground and Billy shared a triumphant smile with Caje.
"Got any great plans for getting us out of here, Billy?"
Loading a fresh clip and firing off a few quick shots, Billy looked toward the mill. "Think you can make it to that mill? I saw a window in the back when I first got a look at it from back there. We can't get to the door in the front; they'll hit us for sure."
Knowing he had no other choice, Caje nodded soberly. "I'll make it." He looked over at Doc, who lay at Billy's feet. The medic was staring up at the sky, blinking at the sun. Every few moments, he would reach up and finger the large knot forming on his right temple with a look of confusion. As if he wasn't quite sure where he was, or how he got there. "What about Doc?"
Billy ducked his head, wiping the sweat with his shoulder. "D'you think you can make it across by yourself?"
"It's not too far; I'll be okay. I'll warn ya though, it'll pretty much wipe me out. I won't be much use to you for a while after that."
"We'll hafta risk it. I can't leave Doc alone. He's kinda...confused...and if I leave him here, he might get up and try to wander off or something. Even if he hadn't lost his helmet in that blast, those dang Krauts would shoot at him anyway. They don't care if he's a corpsman."
Dragging himself into a position to run, Caje nodded at Billy. Pulling the pin from his last grenade, Billy threw it as Caje ran for the mill. Snatching up his M-1 as soon as the grenade left his hand, Nelson gave the scout cover fire.
Pouring nearly every last ounce of strenght he had left into the limping sprint, Caje made it to the back of the wooden building safely. He leaned against the corner, panting heavily. It was all he could do to raise his rifle and start firing.
Releasing a sigh of relief when Caje reached safety, Billy leaned over to get Doc's attention. "Doc! I'm gonna need you to run in a minute. Think you can do it?"
Doc propped himself up on his elbows and looked at Billy in confusion. He couldn't seem to string two thoughts together and had no idea where he was. The pounding in his head was making him nauseous and he wasn't entirely sure he could keep his stomach where it belonged. He couldn't understand how he'd come to be lying on the ground, and he could swear he was hearing gunfire. The last thing he remembered was carrying someone on a litter. Caje maybe?
Seeing the glazed look in Doc's eyes, Billy tried again. "Doc, I need you to run to the mill. Can you do that?"
Making an effort to focus on the face hovering near his, Doc nodded his head hesitantly. "Um....run?"
"Yes, run. Can you make it to the mill?"
"Mill? Uh...yeah."
He had his doubts, but Billy knew they had to chance it. He yanked Doc to his feet and gave him a shove toward the mill, then let loose with his M-1. Billy ran beside the medic, prodding him when Doc seemed to falter. As soon as Billy got to the building, he dropped to his knees next to Caje and fired around the corner. Doc stumbled over his own feet and hit the ground by the window, where he lay moaning and holding his head.
Looking up at Caje, Billy noticed the man's pallor. "Hey, Caje. Think you can keep it up for just a coupla minutes? Just 'til I get Doc inside?"
"Yeah, Billy, just...hurry."
Wasting no more time, Billy jumped up and went to the window. It was unlocked, but he had to struggle to open it. Grunting with effort, he finally managed to lift the stubborn thing high enough for them to squeeze through. Pulling Doc back to his feet, he helped the medic crawl through the window, holding onto Doc's arm the whole time to keep the man from falling once he was inside.
"Okay, Caje, your turn."
Keeping his right hand against the wall for support, Caje staggered over to Billy. He handed over his M-1 and made his painful way through the window. Once inside, he reached out and took both weapons so Billy could crawl through.
Seeing a crate over by the window on the right side of the room, Billy helped Caje over to it and sat him down. Caje could rest there and keep an eye out for the Krauts. Trotting over to the window by the door at the front of the building, Billy looked at their surroundings. There were some stairs over in the back corner and the big grindstones took up most of the center of the room. Well, we made it inside, Billy thought to himself. Now what?
Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, Billy knocked out some glass from the window, took aim and fired. The German soldier that had been making his way forward dropped like a stone. "I got one, Caje. How many do you think there are?"
Leaning wearily against the wall, Caje shrugged. "My guess is, there were about four or five. You've killed one and wounded another. So we're looking at two or three, with one wounded."
Not seeing any other movement, Billy took the opportunity to check on Doc. The medic sat in the middle of the floor next to the millstones with one hand pressed to his aching head and the other held tightly to his middle.
Pulling Doc's hand away from his head, Billy whistled. The whole right side of the medic's face was covered in scrapes and scratches. His right eye was rapidly swelling shut and he had an impressive knot forming on his right temple. "You hit that tree pretty hard there, Doc. Are you hurt anywhere else besides your head?"
Looking around at his surroundings in confusion, Doc stared at Billy with a puzzled expression. "Billy? Where are we?"
"You remember that gristmill we saw a ways back? We're in the mill, Doc."
"Mill? How did we get here? Where's Sarge?"
Sharing a worried look with Caje, Billy rubbed a hand over his mouth. "Oh, boy. Doc? Listen to me...what do you remember?"
"Remember?" Doc tried to bring his scattered thoughts together. It was so hard to concentrate. His head throbbed in time with his heart, those butterflies were back in full force in his stomach and his right arm hurt when he moved it. He didn't know where he was or how he got there...and that was scaring him. The floor was dipping and spinning, threatening to throw him off. He didn't know there were earthquakes in France. He tried to focus on Billy's face. "Ummm...a litter? Caje?"
"That's right. You were carrying Caje on a litter. What else?"
The floor was really starting to move, now. "Uh...Billy? When did the earthquake start?"
"Earthquake? What are you talking about?"
"The floor, Billy. I'm gonna fall off, if it don't stop movin'."
Billy removed his helmet and rubbed a hand through his dark hair. "Oh, this is just swell." He sighed and replaced his helmet, then rested a comforting hand on Doc's back. "You're just dizzy, Doc. You just...sit here for a while. Maybe it'll go away."
Lifting the strap of the medical bag over Doc's head, Billy carried it over to Caje. "Let me check those bandages, Caje."
Wincing at the effort, Caje shifted so his back was to the wall. He sucked in a quick breath as Billy lifted the bandage from his side. Satisfied with what he found, Billy checked the one wrapped tightly around Caje's left thigh. Frowning, he pulled a fresh bandage from the medical pouch and tied it snuggly over the old one.
"Well?"
"Looks okay, Caje. Your leg was bleedin' a little bit, but not too bad. I just wish Doc was with it, so he could check you out."
Glancing over at Doc, Caje sighed and lay his head back against the wall. "He's out again, Billy."
Billy turned around and saw Doc curled up on the dust covered floor, his eyes closed. He turned a frightened gaze to Caje. "I'm worried, Caje. He don't remember anything but carrying you on a litter. What if he broke his skull or something? I don't know what to do for him."
"There's not much we CAN do for him. Just clean out those scratches a little bit, if you can. I'll keep an eye out."
Trusting that Caje would stay alert, Billy knelt next to Doc and rolled him over onto his back. He pulled some gauze from the medic's bag and dampened it with water from his canteen. He opened a packet of sulfa and sprinkled it over the wet gauze, then cleaned the cuts and scrapes as gently as he could. He needn't have bothered...Doc didn't even flinch from the ministrations. Finished, Billy sat staring at the medic for a moment, then got up and went back to his window. He needed to form some plan of action.
"Hey, Caje. How many clips you got left?"
Taking inventory of his pockets, Caje sighed at the results. "Just three. What about you?"
"Only two. Guess we better make them count, huh?" Billy stared through the broken glass and tried desperately to come up with a plan. Unfortunately, every time he figured something out...it involved leaving Caje and Doc behind. He knew that neither one of them was leaving the building under their own power. Caje was too weak, and Doc...Billy was really scared for Doc. Even he knew that head injuries could do permanent damage. What if the quiet, dependable medic was never the same? He tried to shake that thought. He needed a plan. One that involved all three of them getting out of there. He couldn't think of one.
Hardly a sound was heard in the room for nearly an hour, except the occasional creak of the building or rustle of cloth, as the two soldiers stared off into the field. A soft noise from the middle of the floor drew the two soldiers' attention. Doc was coming around again. Billy walked over to kneel next to Doc and helped him sit up. The medic looked around, his brow wrinkled in confusion.
"Hey, Doc, welcome back. How're you feelin'?"
"Billy? Where are we?"
Sighing in disappointment, Billy rubbed his forehead. "We're in a gristmill, Doc. We were jumped by some Germans and had to take cover in here. What's the last thing you remember?"
Thinking hard, the last thing Doc could remember was walking with the squad to go help hold a village. He recalled teasing Kirby about losing so much money in a poker game the night before. That was it. Doc just wished the rocking motion that was making him sick, would stop. He reached out and grabbed Billy's arm in an effort to still the movement.
"Why are we on a boat?" Doc squeezed his eyes shut, but that just made things worse.
"Oh jeez, Caje. First he thinks it's an earthquake, now we're on a boat. What do I do?"
"I don't know," Caje shot back. "I'm not a doctor. Tell ya what though, he must be getting a little better."
"How can he be better? He doesn't even know where he is or what happened."
"Yeah, but the dizziness must be less. I mean, I'd think the motion of a boat would be a whole lot less than an earthquake."
Brightening a little at that revelation, Billy smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. Thanks." Turning back to Doc, Billy tried again. "Doc, try to think. What's the last thing you remember?"
Willing his stomach to stay where it was, Doc swallowed a couple times before answering. "Uh...I remember teasing Kirby about losing that poker game. Um, the poker game was last night. Right?"
"That's right. So the last thing you remember is us heading out this morning?"
Feeling the damage to his head with gentle fingers, Doc shot Billy a surprised look. "What the heck happened? Where are the others? Where's Sarge?" The medic was starting to get agitated.
Billy made a calming motion with his hands and tried to reassure him. "Doc, settle down. You've had a bad bump to the head, that's all. Sarge and the others are back at the village...probably in a whole lot better shape than we are at the moment."
"You can say that again." Caje shook his head, disgusted with their situation.
Finally able to calm Doc down, Billy stood and walked back to his window. Staring thoughtfully, he tried once more to come up with a workable plan. There was no way around it. Unless those Germans got bored and left...Billy would have to leave the others behind and go for help.
Copyright 2001
"Billy Takes a Stand"
Billy plodded ahead of the others, ostensibly keeping an eye out for Germans, but in reality...lost in thought. Why did Sarge choose HIM for this? Was it because the sergeant didn't trust him enough to stay and help hold the village? Or because he DID trust him enough to get the others safely back to the aid station? Dragging his thoughts back to the task at hand, he wiped his sleeve across his face. It had started out quite chilly when they'd left for the village at the crack of dawn, but it was becoming uncomfortably warm as the sun approached its noon position.
Glancing back at the others, Billy couldn't help the disgust he felt for the man walking behind him. Powell. The man is a jerk, he thought to himself. *Always calling me "kid", and treating me like a green recruit. Heck, I've been on the front line longer than he has.* Powell was always trying to get out of duty...especially if that duty might require getting shot at. Nelson suspected that that might be why the man had volunteered to help Doc carry Caje back to the aid station. He guessed Powell felt safer doing that, than holding the village til the platoon from Baker Company showed up.
Shaking his head slightly to clear his thoughts once more, Billy peered at the man on the litter. Caje looked more peaceful than he had earlier. Maybe he was doing better. Doc's face still wore a frown, so maybe not. Although, the frown could be from carrying the litter so far. The medic must get awfully tired from carrying litters all the time, he mused.
Returning his attention to his surroundings, he led the others in silence. They hadn't gone much further, when Powell demanded that they stop and rest. "C'mon guys, let's stop for five; my arms are killing me."
Glancing back at Doc, Billy locked eyes with the medic. Doc shook his head, still frowning. They needed to keep moving.
"Sorry, Powell. Doc says we keep going."
Powell muttered something under his breath for a minute, then made a disgusted sound. "Doc says, Doc says. I didn't hear him say anything. 'Sides, he's just a private same as us. Who put him in charge?"
Looking back to see the flash of anger in Doc's eyes, Billy repressed a smile. Powell was gonna hear it for that later. Billy quite looked forward to the spectacle. "Doc doesn't have to say anything, 'cause I can tell what he's thinkin' by the look on his face. And when it comes to the wounded...Doc's in charge. So shut up and keep walkin'."
"Yeah, well I ain't wounded, so he ain't in charge of me. I say we stop."
"You heard me, Powell. Sarge put ME in charge and I say we keep walking. Both us have been on the line longer than you have. You'll live a lot longer if you button your lip and do what we tell you, wiseguy."
Having heard every word, Caje couldn't help the smile that crept to his lips. It wasn't often that he heard Billy stand up for himself like that. Looking up into Doc's weary face, the Cajun wished he could get up off the litter and walk. He knew the wounds weren't that bad, but the blood loss had taken it's toll. The littlest effort made him tired. He wondered if he should tell the others to take a break. He thought better of that idea; he didn't want to undermine Billy's authority with Powell. As a wave of exhaustion washed over him, Caje settled himself more comfortably on the stretcher and drifted into an uneasy sleep.
The sweat trickling down his face itched and Powell longed to wipe it away. His resentment of the others grew with each weary step. Sure he was new, but he was no sap. He knew the score. How dare these guys treat him like a green recruit, he thought to himself. He needed to rest. His arms trembled with the strain of carrying the litter. He couldn't understand why he couldn't switch with Nelson. Sarge had made the order clear, however. Nelson had the point all the way. Part of his anger stemmed from jealousy, though he'd never admit it. None of the others seemed to show any fear. Shifting his grip, Powell's anger went up a notch. How could Doc just keep plodding along when Powell felt like he was going to drop with each weary step he took?
Half an hour later, even Billy was getting tired. Wiping his face yet again, Billy turned to grimace at Doc. "Boy it's gettin' hot."
Giving Nelson a crooked grin, Doc shook his head. "If you think it's warm here in the trees, just wait 'til we run outta shade."
Billy had been hearing the sound of rushing water for a while, but as the trees thinned he could finally see the stream several yards to his left. Oh, how he longed to take off his boots and wade into that cool, clear water. Following the stream with his eyes, he saw a wooden structure about a hundred yards downstream. From this angle, he could just make out the big wooden water wheel.
"Hey Doc, look. It's a gristmill. Maybe we could rest for a minute in there; it'll be nice and cool, and we can get more water for our canteens."
The trembling in Powell's arms hadn't gone unnoticed by the medic, so Doc nodded his assent. He didn't want the private to drop Caje and aggravate the injuries. He had finally gotten the wounds to stop bleeding and didn't want them to start up again. Besides, Doc was about to drop from exhaustion himself.
Deciding it would be safer to stick to the trees until they drew abreast of the mill, Billy led them forward. He kept a sharp eye out for Germans. He doubted there would be any way out here in the middle of nowhere, but he was alert for them just the same.
He became even more wary as they drew closer to the mill. They would have about forty yards of open ground to cross once they left the safety of the treeline. The other two soldiers also kept their eyes peeled for the enemy. None of them saw any sign of Germans.
Nevertheless...they were there.
They headed off to their left, dodging fallen trees and rotting stumps, Billy in the lead. When they were halfway between the mill and the treeline, bullets suddenly tore up the dirt at their feet.
Hitting the ground behind a fallen tree, Billy pinpointed the direction of the enemy fire and opened up with his M-1. Powell unceremoniously dropped his end of the stretcher and curled up behind a tree stump a few feet away. Left in the open, Doc threw himself over Caje in a weak attempt to protect the wounded man.
Yelling at Powell to start shooting, Billy reloaded and returned fire once more. He spared a quick glance at Powell and was thankful to see the private finally picking up his weapon. Billy couldn't do this alone. He heard the reports from the other man's M-1 with welcome relief.
Taking advantage of the cover fire, Doc grabbed Caje by the jacket collar and hauled him behind another fallen tree. Bits of bark flew every which way as bullets tore into their refuge, the sharp splinters cutting the medic's cheek. He leaned over and once again used his body to protect Caje, taking the opportunity to check to see if his efforts had reopened the wounds. So far, so good. He knew that wouldn't last; they couldn't stay there forever. Caje would have to be moved again. His frantic gaze met Caje's and much was said without a word being spoken. They would both do what they had to.
Billy aimed and fired as a German stood from his shelter to lob a grenade. The kraut jerked as the bullet impacted, and the grenade fell short. One down, Nelson thought in satisfaction...he didn't know how many were left.
The explosion a few short yards in front of them blew dirt and debris over the Americans. Powell shot Billy a panicky look. "Grenades! They've got grenades, Nelson. We gotta get outta here!"
Hearing the fright in Powell's voice, Billy paused in his shooting long enough to fix him with an icy glare. "So?! WE have grenades, Powell. Just keep shooting. How do you expect Caje to run very far? We sure ain't leavin' him here!"
Another explosion, this one closer than before, broke Powell's nerve. He dropped his rifle and took off. He ran blindly for the shelter of the woods, ignoring the shouts from Billy and Doc. All he could think about was staying alive, not sparing a single thought for the three men he was leaving behind. His feet pounded the ground as he flew past the tree sheltering Doc and Caje.
When Powell ran past, almost stepping on the huddled pair, Doc tried to stop him. He couldn't believe the obnoxious private was deserting them. Raising up on his knees to grab the man as he ran past, Doc almost got himself shot. Just as the medic sat up to grab Powell, Caje snatched Doc's jacket and yanked him back down. A bullet whined and smacked the ground beside them, narrowly missing the two.
The panicked soldier nearly made it.
Watching helplessly, Doc saw Powell spin from the impact of a bullet to his side. The wounded man fell to the ground, picked himself back up, and stumbled dazedly for the woods. Lead missiles gouged the ground around his feet, but miraculously missed him. Just a few more feet. Just a few more feet and he'd make it.
When Powell faltered and dropped to one knee, Doc made up his mind. Sprinting for the wounded man, he kept as low to the ground as he could, ignoring Caje's shouts behind him. The noise of gunfire seemed to come from all around him. He could see Powell struggling to regain his footing. Almost there, he thought to himself. Almost there.
Hearing Caje's shout, Billy turned his head and felt his heart lurch. Doc was running for all he was worth, trying to reach Powell in time. The wounded goldbrick was staggering toward the woods, away from the medic. Caje lay huddled behind the fallen tree, yelling for Doc to stop, one hand clutching the bandage on his side. Looking back toward the enemy, Billy saw one of the Germans raise up and toss another grenade. Time ceased to exist for one horrifying moment.
That one moment was frozen in time, like a color photograph...forever imprinted in his brain. Caje was behind the log, stretching toward Doc...as if he could stop him if he just reached far enough. The scout's face was etched with pain, exhaustion, and fear for his comrade. Doc was hunched over, trying to make himself a smaller target as he ran, waving at Powell to drop to the ground. Powell had turned toward the others with a strange, surprised look on his face. A deafening sound broke the tableau.
The grenade hit close to Powell. The poor soldier took most of the blast and was killed instantly. To Billy, it was like an unseen hand lifted Doc up and threw him several feet away. The medic's momentum was stopped when he suddenly slammed into a tree. Billy's stomach flip-flopped at the horrifying sound of the impact. Doc fell limply onto his side...and didn't move.
Sharing a brief, terrified look with Caje, Billy shifted behind his sheltering tree and began firing at the Krauts once more. He tried to force his mind to think only of the enemy and not of Doc's unmoving form. Even as he fired repeatedly at the Germans, however, he chanted to himself, "Not Doc. Not Doc. Please...not Doc."
Caje stared at the unmoving figure at the base of the tree, willing him to show some sign of life. He looked back at Billy and could see the younger man's lips moving, talking to himself. Caje couldn't believe things could go so wrong, so quickly. He wished the sergeant were there. Sarge would've been able to keep Doc from making such a foolhardy attempt to reach Powell. Sarge would be able to get them out of this mess. Kirby and Littlejohn wouldn't hurt either, he thought wryly.
Twisting around to look at Doc once more, Caje froze. Was that movement? He waited, chewing on his lower lip in anxiety. There! Yes, that was movement! Caje felt like laughing as he watched Doc's hand reach up to feel his head.
"Billy!"
Sparing Caje a glance, Billy was surprised to see a huge smile plastered on the man's face. It only took a second for Billy to realize what would bring that reaction and his gaze immediately went to Doc. For a moment, he couldn't understand why Caje had looked so elated. Then he saw the medic moving his legs. A huge burden lifted from Billy's shoulders. Doc was alive. Nelson realized that if the medic started moving around too much, he might not STAY alive.
His thoughts racing, Billy finally came up with a plan. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a grenade. Removing the pin, he climbed to his knees and threw the grenade as far as he could from that position. Not waiting for the explosion, he jumped to his feet and ran for Powell's discarded M-1. Reaching down as he opproached the tree stump, and in one fluid motion, Billy snatched up the weapon and threw himself towards Caje. Landing with a thump that nearly drove the breath from his lungs, he rolled over and took cover.
Taking the rifle from Billy, Caje propped himself up by the fallen tree and began firing. "Good job, Billy. You need another grenade?"
"No, I've got two left. You?"
"Two."
They both ducked as splinters of wood went flying when the Germans returned fire. Billy grabbed another grenade and looked at Caje. "Ready?"
Receiving a terse nod, Nelson once again got to his knees and lobbed a grenade. He lurched to his feet and ran for Doc. Grabbing him by the collar, he pulled the semiconscious medic behind the large tree and leaned around the trunk, firing off a few shots to give Caje time to use one of his grenades. As soon as the grenade left the scout's hand, Billy slipped his M-1 on his shoulder and hauled Doc to his feet. Draping the medic's arm around his neck, Billy half-carried Doc over to Caje. They both dropped to the ground and Billy shared a triumphant smile with Caje.
"Got any great plans for getting us out of here, Billy?"
Loading a fresh clip and firing off a few quick shots, Billy looked toward the mill. "Think you can make it to that mill? I saw a window in the back when I first got a look at it from back there. We can't get to the door in the front; they'll hit us for sure."
Knowing he had no other choice, Caje nodded soberly. "I'll make it." He looked over at Doc, who lay at Billy's feet. The medic was staring up at the sky, blinking at the sun. Every few moments, he would reach up and finger the large knot forming on his right temple with a look of confusion. As if he wasn't quite sure where he was, or how he got there. "What about Doc?"
Billy ducked his head, wiping the sweat with his shoulder. "D'you think you can make it across by yourself?"
"It's not too far; I'll be okay. I'll warn ya though, it'll pretty much wipe me out. I won't be much use to you for a while after that."
"We'll hafta risk it. I can't leave Doc alone. He's kinda...confused...and if I leave him here, he might get up and try to wander off or something. Even if he hadn't lost his helmet in that blast, those dang Krauts would shoot at him anyway. They don't care if he's a corpsman."
Dragging himself into a position to run, Caje nodded at Billy. Pulling the pin from his last grenade, Billy threw it as Caje ran for the mill. Snatching up his M-1 as soon as the grenade left his hand, Nelson gave the scout cover fire.
Pouring nearly every last ounce of strenght he had left into the limping sprint, Caje made it to the back of the wooden building safely. He leaned against the corner, panting heavily. It was all he could do to raise his rifle and start firing.
Releasing a sigh of relief when Caje reached safety, Billy leaned over to get Doc's attention. "Doc! I'm gonna need you to run in a minute. Think you can do it?"
Doc propped himself up on his elbows and looked at Billy in confusion. He couldn't seem to string two thoughts together and had no idea where he was. The pounding in his head was making him nauseous and he wasn't entirely sure he could keep his stomach where it belonged. He couldn't understand how he'd come to be lying on the ground, and he could swear he was hearing gunfire. The last thing he remembered was carrying someone on a litter. Caje maybe?
Seeing the glazed look in Doc's eyes, Billy tried again. "Doc, I need you to run to the mill. Can you do that?"
Making an effort to focus on the face hovering near his, Doc nodded his head hesitantly. "Um....run?"
"Yes, run. Can you make it to the mill?"
"Mill? Uh...yeah."
He had his doubts, but Billy knew they had to chance it. He yanked Doc to his feet and gave him a shove toward the mill, then let loose with his M-1. Billy ran beside the medic, prodding him when Doc seemed to falter. As soon as Billy got to the building, he dropped to his knees next to Caje and fired around the corner. Doc stumbled over his own feet and hit the ground by the window, where he lay moaning and holding his head.
Looking up at Caje, Billy noticed the man's pallor. "Hey, Caje. Think you can keep it up for just a coupla minutes? Just 'til I get Doc inside?"
"Yeah, Billy, just...hurry."
Wasting no more time, Billy jumped up and went to the window. It was unlocked, but he had to struggle to open it. Grunting with effort, he finally managed to lift the stubborn thing high enough for them to squeeze through. Pulling Doc back to his feet, he helped the medic crawl through the window, holding onto Doc's arm the whole time to keep the man from falling once he was inside.
"Okay, Caje, your turn."
Keeping his right hand against the wall for support, Caje staggered over to Billy. He handed over his M-1 and made his painful way through the window. Once inside, he reached out and took both weapons so Billy could crawl through.
Seeing a crate over by the window on the right side of the room, Billy helped Caje over to it and sat him down. Caje could rest there and keep an eye out for the Krauts. Trotting over to the window by the door at the front of the building, Billy looked at their surroundings. There were some stairs over in the back corner and the big grindstones took up most of the center of the room. Well, we made it inside, Billy thought to himself. Now what?
Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, Billy knocked out some glass from the window, took aim and fired. The German soldier that had been making his way forward dropped like a stone. "I got one, Caje. How many do you think there are?"
Leaning wearily against the wall, Caje shrugged. "My guess is, there were about four or five. You've killed one and wounded another. So we're looking at two or three, with one wounded."
Not seeing any other movement, Billy took the opportunity to check on Doc. The medic sat in the middle of the floor next to the millstones with one hand pressed to his aching head and the other held tightly to his middle.
Pulling Doc's hand away from his head, Billy whistled. The whole right side of the medic's face was covered in scrapes and scratches. His right eye was rapidly swelling shut and he had an impressive knot forming on his right temple. "You hit that tree pretty hard there, Doc. Are you hurt anywhere else besides your head?"
Looking around at his surroundings in confusion, Doc stared at Billy with a puzzled expression. "Billy? Where are we?"
"You remember that gristmill we saw a ways back? We're in the mill, Doc."
"Mill? How did we get here? Where's Sarge?"
Sharing a worried look with Caje, Billy rubbed a hand over his mouth. "Oh, boy. Doc? Listen to me...what do you remember?"
"Remember?" Doc tried to bring his scattered thoughts together. It was so hard to concentrate. His head throbbed in time with his heart, those butterflies were back in full force in his stomach and his right arm hurt when he moved it. He didn't know where he was or how he got there...and that was scaring him. The floor was dipping and spinning, threatening to throw him off. He didn't know there were earthquakes in France. He tried to focus on Billy's face. "Ummm...a litter? Caje?"
"That's right. You were carrying Caje on a litter. What else?"
The floor was really starting to move, now. "Uh...Billy? When did the earthquake start?"
"Earthquake? What are you talking about?"
"The floor, Billy. I'm gonna fall off, if it don't stop movin'."
Billy removed his helmet and rubbed a hand through his dark hair. "Oh, this is just swell." He sighed and replaced his helmet, then rested a comforting hand on Doc's back. "You're just dizzy, Doc. You just...sit here for a while. Maybe it'll go away."
Lifting the strap of the medical bag over Doc's head, Billy carried it over to Caje. "Let me check those bandages, Caje."
Wincing at the effort, Caje shifted so his back was to the wall. He sucked in a quick breath as Billy lifted the bandage from his side. Satisfied with what he found, Billy checked the one wrapped tightly around Caje's left thigh. Frowning, he pulled a fresh bandage from the medical pouch and tied it snuggly over the old one.
"Well?"
"Looks okay, Caje. Your leg was bleedin' a little bit, but not too bad. I just wish Doc was with it, so he could check you out."
Glancing over at Doc, Caje sighed and lay his head back against the wall. "He's out again, Billy."
Billy turned around and saw Doc curled up on the dust covered floor, his eyes closed. He turned a frightened gaze to Caje. "I'm worried, Caje. He don't remember anything but carrying you on a litter. What if he broke his skull or something? I don't know what to do for him."
"There's not much we CAN do for him. Just clean out those scratches a little bit, if you can. I'll keep an eye out."
Trusting that Caje would stay alert, Billy knelt next to Doc and rolled him over onto his back. He pulled some gauze from the medic's bag and dampened it with water from his canteen. He opened a packet of sulfa and sprinkled it over the wet gauze, then cleaned the cuts and scrapes as gently as he could. He needn't have bothered...Doc didn't even flinch from the ministrations. Finished, Billy sat staring at the medic for a moment, then got up and went back to his window. He needed to form some plan of action.
"Hey, Caje. How many clips you got left?"
Taking inventory of his pockets, Caje sighed at the results. "Just three. What about you?"
"Only two. Guess we better make them count, huh?" Billy stared through the broken glass and tried desperately to come up with a plan. Unfortunately, every time he figured something out...it involved leaving Caje and Doc behind. He knew that neither one of them was leaving the building under their own power. Caje was too weak, and Doc...Billy was really scared for Doc. Even he knew that head injuries could do permanent damage. What if the quiet, dependable medic was never the same? He tried to shake that thought. He needed a plan. One that involved all three of them getting out of there. He couldn't think of one.
Hardly a sound was heard in the room for nearly an hour, except the occasional creak of the building or rustle of cloth, as the two soldiers stared off into the field. A soft noise from the middle of the floor drew the two soldiers' attention. Doc was coming around again. Billy walked over to kneel next to Doc and helped him sit up. The medic looked around, his brow wrinkled in confusion.
"Hey, Doc, welcome back. How're you feelin'?"
"Billy? Where are we?"
Sighing in disappointment, Billy rubbed his forehead. "We're in a gristmill, Doc. We were jumped by some Germans and had to take cover in here. What's the last thing you remember?"
Thinking hard, the last thing Doc could remember was walking with the squad to go help hold a village. He recalled teasing Kirby about losing so much money in a poker game the night before. That was it. Doc just wished the rocking motion that was making him sick, would stop. He reached out and grabbed Billy's arm in an effort to still the movement.
"Why are we on a boat?" Doc squeezed his eyes shut, but that just made things worse.
"Oh jeez, Caje. First he thinks it's an earthquake, now we're on a boat. What do I do?"
"I don't know," Caje shot back. "I'm not a doctor. Tell ya what though, he must be getting a little better."
"How can he be better? He doesn't even know where he is or what happened."
"Yeah, but the dizziness must be less. I mean, I'd think the motion of a boat would be a whole lot less than an earthquake."
Brightening a little at that revelation, Billy smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. Thanks." Turning back to Doc, Billy tried again. "Doc, try to think. What's the last thing you remember?"
Willing his stomach to stay where it was, Doc swallowed a couple times before answering. "Uh...I remember teasing Kirby about losing that poker game. Um, the poker game was last night. Right?"
"That's right. So the last thing you remember is us heading out this morning?"
Feeling the damage to his head with gentle fingers, Doc shot Billy a surprised look. "What the heck happened? Where are the others? Where's Sarge?" The medic was starting to get agitated.
Billy made a calming motion with his hands and tried to reassure him. "Doc, settle down. You've had a bad bump to the head, that's all. Sarge and the others are back at the village...probably in a whole lot better shape than we are at the moment."
"You can say that again." Caje shook his head, disgusted with their situation.
Finally able to calm Doc down, Billy stood and walked back to his window. Staring thoughtfully, he tried once more to come up with a workable plan. There was no way around it. Unless those Germans got bored and left...Billy would have to leave the others behind and go for help.