Just Another Day
"Stay close and keep your eyes peeled."
The men of Saunders's squad were used to him giving this order so they merely nodded their understanding and kept moving. Slowly, step by step they advanced toward the bombed out village.
"Looks like the tanks really did a number on this place." Kirby whispered as he got his first clear look at the ruins.
"Headquarters said they fought quite the battle here." Caje confirmed. "I heard we only won because the krauts ran low on gasoline."
"Don't they have a supply base around here somewhere?"
Caje nodded, his eyes scanning the buildings in the abandoned town.
"Then why didn't they refuel there?"
"Because our guys have the place surrounded." The Cajun explained quietly. "They can't get into it without fighting their way in. Then they'd have to fight their way back out again."
"Keep it down!" Saunders turned toward the sound of whispers and ordered silence. His glare warned everyone that he meant business.
Kirby frowned at the order but he bit his tongue rather that anger the Sarge. He shifted his pack on his shoulder and gripped his Browning tighter. Being the BAR man for the squad was important to him and Sarge had threatened to take it away from him if he continued to argue about every order.
Caje saw the determined look on his face and wisely moved away from him. Removing the temptation to talk seemed the easiest way to help his friend. Kirby kept his eyes on the village ahead and didn't seem to notice his absence.
The cobbled sidewalks of the village were pretty much intact as the squad soft-footed it into town. Their boots made hollow sounds on the stone that carried further than they would have liked. Pausing at the intersection of two roads, Saunders sent two men to the left and two men to the right.
"Go about a block and see what's down there. Keep your eyes open. Whistle if you see anything."
The four men nodded and broke off from the squad, leaving the others to watch the intersection.
Saunders hugged the wall of a building, his Thompson held ready. The eerie quiet of the town was unsettling, leaving him with a tingling feeling along his spine. Never one to ignore his instincts, he motioned for the rest of the men to find cover. They waited, nerves on edge, as the silence hung heavy in the air.
Bang!
The rifle shot came from the buildings on the left. One of the men checking that street was on the ground scurrying for cover on his belly. The second man fell, his rifle clattering on the stones to skid to a stop several yards from his body.
Saunders peered around the corner of his hiding place to check for movement. The soldier, a raw recruit who had only been with the squad for three days, made no attempt to pull himself to cover. Saunders watched for some sign that the soldier was able to get to cover without help. It looked to him like the recruit was unconscious.
Caje was shaking his head sadly; the kid was barely out of boot camp.
Saunders caught his eye and motioned for Caje to cover him. When Caje nodded and shifted position Saunders took off at a run. The rest of the squad, upon seeing him move, began to shoot at the windows facing the street.
Kirby spotted a rifle barrel poking through a hole in a wall. Taking aim with the Browning, he ripped the hole bigger with the heavy slugs. The rifle barrel tipped upward as flame blossomed from the tip. The bullets zipped off into space; none coming anywhere close to the Americans. Kirby watched it for a moment but it wasn't pulled back through the enlarged hole. Satisfied that he had eliminated that threat, he began to search for a new target for his weapon.
A machine gun opened fire from a second floor window, pinning Caje and Littlejohn in a dangerous position. Kirby used the longer range and the heavier bullets of the Browning to shred the bodies of the German gunners. As the machine gun fell silent Kirby heard Nelson's strangled cry of 'Sarge' over the scattered shots still being fired. Spinning around, he spotted Saunders sprawled on the street next to the first casualty.
"Cage!"
"I see him!" The Cajun yelled in response. With a quick look behind, Caje made a dash for a stone wall next to the fallen men.
"Caje, stay back!"
Saunders's urgent whisper froze Caje in place.
"Are you hurt bad Sarge?"
"I'm not hit at all." Saunders replied. "When I say 'go' I want you to cover me. There's a kraut in the middle building next to the water fountain. Make sure he keeps his head down. I'll grab Davis and get him to cover."
"Right Sarge," Caje nodded, "ready when you are." He shifted his body and got off of his knees, balancing on the balls of his feet. When Saunders yelled 'go' he pushed himself higher and began to fire over the wall. He caught a brief glimpse of a German soldier moving in front of one of the windows. Taking aim, he splintered the wood all around the frame. There was a muffled curse in German as the soldier ducked back. Caje lowered his aim and shot through the wall below the window. His shot was rewarded with the scream of pain. Try as he might, he didn't spot the German soldier again.
He heard Saunders grunt as he lowered Davis to the ground behind the wall. Glancing quickly that way, he eyed the wounded man critically.
"How bad is he hit?"
"Bad enough." Saunders confirmed. "We need to clean up here so Doc can take a look at him."
"Fenton!" Caje called across the road to the soldier who had taken cover there. "How many did you see?"
"At least three." Fenton called back. "The one you hit and two in the third building to the right. Those two guys are on the first floor."
Caje studied the building Fenton indicated. He caught a flash of sunlight off of a rifle barrel and yelled a warning. Before Caje could swing his rifle around to take aim at the German soldier, Kirby opened fire with the Browning.
The bullets tore through the thin wood of the wall and caught the German hiding there. He rose to his feet as the bullets tore into his body. Kirby hit him again as he toppled to the floor. The second gunman made a dash for a back door, exposing himself for one brief moment. Caje had been waiting for just that. He fired one round, dropping his target instantly.
Littlejohn and Billy had taken out the Germans who were firing from the main street. Those that were left decided they had had enough and fled out the back of the buildings.
"It looks like they're running Sarge!" Brockmeyer called.
"Doc! Get over here!"
The medic hurried to where Saunders sat holding his hand over the wound in Davis's chest.
"See what you can do for him Doc." The sergeant ordered. "Nelson, Littlejohn, and Kirby, make sure all of those krauts moved out."
"Right Sarge." Kirby responded, looking toward the other two men.
Without a word Littlejohn turned and headed for the main street. Kirby looked pointedly at Billy Nelson until he turned to follow Littlejohn. The three of them made their way from building to building, expecting to face resistance at every turn. To their relief, no one fired on them as they checked each building.
"I'm going to check that building across the street." Kirby pointed to a shell of a house that looked just slightly better than its neighbors.
Littlejohn looked at the building and nodded uneasily. "Do you want us to come along?"
"No," Kirby answered, "you'll just get in my way."
Neither man commented as they watched the BAR man dart across the street.
He paused in front of the building, pressing his back to the wall next to the door. As far as he could tell, the building was empty. The only way to be sure though was to go inside and check it out. Glancing across the street he saw Nelson and Littlejohn watching him. Waving them back, he took a breath and spun to face the door. With one kick the door crashed inward leaving sunlight flood the room.
Broken furniture lay scattered around a room that had once been someone's living room. Now the only occupants appeared to be bugs and rodents. A rat scurried across the floor, drawing the aim of the Browning. Kirby's finger began to tighten on the trigger until he realized what it was. With a huff of annoyance at his display of nerves, Kirby stepped further into the room.
A door off to the side caught his attention. The dust on the floor showed signs of having been disturbed, and recently. Moving as quietly as he could, Kirby went to investigate.
The explosion surprised Littlejohn and Billy. Debris shot toward them from the building where Kirby had disappeared. Both men ducked, unsure what had happened, but prepared to defend themselves.
"Kirby?" The call came from Saunders who was still with Davis and Doc.
"He was in the building Sarge." Littlejohn yelled back. He was wiping the dirt from his eyes when Caje ran across the street, plastering himself against the wall outside the door.
"What happened?" Saunders demanded.
"I don't know Sarge." Littlejohn admitted. "He said he wanted to check that building and told us to wait here." The big man eyed the still smoking building with concern. "Maybe he ran into a booby-trap."
Saunders checked the position of the rest of his men and nodded. "Okay, you stay here. Keep your eyes open and don't go into any of the other buildings."
Billy glanced at the buildings behind him nervously and gripped his rifle tighter. "Do you want us to cover you Sarge?"
"Yeah, cover me, but stay down; I don't need to lose any more men."
"Do you think he's all right Sarge?"
Saunders glanced at Caje, watching as the scout peered through the open door into the building. Judging from the expression on the Cajun's face, the sergeant didn't want to make any predictions.
"That's what we're going to find out." The sergeant ran crossed the street, stopping against the wall on the other side of the door from Caje. "Caje?"
"There's still a lot of dust," the Cajun whispered, "but I think I see the Browning on the floor about halfway across the room."
"Kirby?"
Caje shook his head without looking at his sergeant.
"Cover me." Saunders slipped into the room, staying along the wall to give Caje a clear line of fire if any Germans popped out. Dust still hung heavy in the air with the sunlight highlighting streaks in the dust particles. The wall on the far side of the room had been destroyed by the blast, sending beams and plaster flying everywhere. Saunders picked his way across the room to pick up the Browning.
Bending carefully, he picked up the rifle and looked it over. There was none of the damage he would have expected to find after it had been thrown across a room. He gingerly brushed the dirt off of it and checked its action. It looked like it was still in working order.
He spun at a sound behind him but it was only Caje. The scout stepped over some broken furniture and paused to look at the rifle that the sergeant held.
"It looks okay." Saunders told him, seeing the understanding in the other man's eyes. The sergeant carefully put the rifle aside and nodded at Caje. The two men continued their search for their missing BAR man.
Caje was the first one to step through the huge gaping hole in the wall. He found himself in a parlor, with shredded and shattered chairs and a long table. Silverware and glassware lay scattered around the room. Ruined china cracked under his boots as he walked. It was impossible to move quietly with all of the breakable debris lying everywhere.
"Nobody snuck up on him from this room." Saunders stated the obvious as Caje stepped on yet another broken plate.
"It's possible that they were already in position before he entered." Caje answered in a whisper.
The sergeant didn't answer; he was looking at a pattern of broken glass on the floor. There was a path, a crooked one, but a path winding its way through the clutter. There was a thick coat of dust on the floor, some old, some a result of the explosion. The old dust showed signs of having been disturbed recently. The new dust, the dust from the explosion, couldn't completely cover the scuff marks.
Saunders finished his examination of the floor and raised his eyes to look at Caje. Jerking his head toward the door to the next room, he motioned for the other man to stay to the far side. Staying to the near side himself, he peered through the doorway, searching for a sign that they were not alone.
Near one corner of the room he saw a set of stairs leading down into a basement. Slipping into the room, he motioned to Caje that he was going down. Step by step he eased his way to the bottom of the stairs. His footsteps were the only sounds he heard. Reaching the bottom, he waited as Caje joined him. Covering each other, they leap-frogged around the barrels and crates that were piled nearly to the ceiling throughout the entire basement, searching every nook and cranny as they went.
"Sarge!"
Saunders peered around some barrels to see Caje kneeling on the floor. With his weapon held one-handed, the scout put a finger out to touch the floor. When he raised his hand Saunders saw the fresh blood on his fingertip.
"Kirby may be hurt."
"Maybe." Saunders agreed, trying to follow the trail of blood drops. "But where is he?"
Caje shrugged, concern darkening his eyes as he searched for his friend. With his head bent to follow the blood trail, the scout crossed the basement slowly, hindered by the dim light. When he reached the far wall he paused. "Sarge."
Saunders froze, thinking that Caje had discovered a body, but just as quickly realized that the Cajun's tone had seemed to indicate something else. Coming around the stacked barrels the sergeant spotted the stairs leading to the outside. The outside doors stood open, flung back by someone with bloody hands.
Caje climbed the stairs, peaking over the top to check the surrounding courtyard. "It looks clear Sarge!"
"Any sign of Kirby?"
"No."
"Do you see anyone at all?"
"No." The scout went up the last two steps and stepped out into the grass. His keen eyes followed the drops of blood, fewer now but easier to see in the sunlight. Saunders followed him so he kept going. The trail led to another house, this one too had a basement. The doors to this one were closed but the tell-tale handprints were clearly visible in blood. Caje leaned to the side and carefully opened the doors.
A volley of bullets ripped the thick wood into splinters. Caje ducked just in time to avoid the lead but not the splinters. He jerked back as small slivers of wood imbedded themselves in his neck and shoulder.
Saunders stepped around the door and returned fire. They heard a soft groan and then the sound of a body falling. The sergeant moved back, listening for any movement from the basement. The silence seemed to mock them, challenging them to wait.
As soon as Saunders nodded Caje jumped the stairs to land at the bottom. He landed in a crouch, rifle up and ready to blast anything that moved. He waited for his eyes to readjust to the gloom before he gave his sergeant the all clear. Moving stealthily, the two men checked the entire basement. All they found was a hole in the wall that opened into the basement next door.
They checked the dead kraut, looking for any previous wounds. His hands were clean and the bullet holes in his body all appeared to be new. Whoever had been wounded in the other building was gone. They checked the next basement but as they suspected, it was empty. All they found was more bloody hand prints.
The two men emerged into the street to find themselves facing the rifles of the rest of the squad.
"Gee whiz Sarge!" Billy Nelson whined. "You should warn a fella before you just show up out of the blue."
"You knew we were here." Saunders growled, his concern for his missing man deepening his voice.
"Well, sure Sarge, but over there, not over here."
"Did you find Kirby?" Littlejohn interrupted as he searched behind Saunders.
The sergeant shook his head. "No, all we found was his Browning. It wasn't damaged in the explosion so maybe Kirby didn't get caught in it."
"Then where is he?"
Saunders ground his teeth and shook his head. "I don't know."
The rest of the squad waited expectantly for more orders. Not one of them expected to leave without searching for their lost man.
"Caje, go pick up the Browning." Turning back toward the others Saunders got back to business. "How is Davis?"
"Bad. Doc's still working on him. Fenton is watching over them." Littlejohn answered. "What about Kirby? Where do we start looking for him?"
"We don't." The sergeant responded gruffly. "We don't know where to start and poking around here without back up is too dangerous. We'll clear the buildings but we aren't going rushing in to save Kirby without knowing what we're up against."
"Sarge."
"No Caje, we'll keep our eyes open. If we catch a glimpse of him maybe we can mount some sort of rescue, but our orders are clear; clean out the town and keep moving."
"If they're holding him in town, we'll find him." Caje stated quietly.
Saunders nodded. "Unless they pull out and take him along."
There was a general shuffling of feet and lowering of heads as everyone kept their comments to themselves. Kirby wasn't the most popular man on the squad, but he was one of them. The quirky little BAR man could irritate the heck out of you one minute and be surprisingly gentle the next. It didn't matter that he was a pain who complained, a lot, he was one of them. To a man they were determined to keep their eyes open, not just to spot the enemy, but to find their squad mate too.
Kirby opened his eyes and groaned at the weight on his chest. When he tried to push it away the weight squirmed and pinned him down. It took a moment for his mind to register that the weight was another human being.
In a flash he recalled the events leading up to his present predicament. He remembered telling Littlejohn and Billy to stay outside. He recalled entering the building and seeing all of the destroyed furniture. The sound that drew his eyes to the doorway to the next room had been unexpected. Even more unexpected were the two German soldiers holding their rifles on him. He had lowered the Browning to the floor before following their orders to advance toward them. With no other choice, he had done as they ordered. As he stepped through the doorway one of the Germans had moved aside and motioned him toward a set of stairs. Knowing his chances would drop dramatically if he descended the stairs, he had decided to jump the kraut closest to him. He never saw the trip wire.
The body on top of him struggled to stand. Kirby tried to roll out from under him but the German was ready for that. He grabbed the front of Kirby's shirt and yanked hard. The German soldier hissed a warning at him as Kirby twisted.
Kirby heard someone groan behind his captor. The second German pulled himself to his feet holding a wound in his side. The wounded German said something to the other one and Kirby was pulled to his feet. Behind the wounded kraut Kirby could see the stairs leading up to freedom, but the unwounded German stood in his way. Following their directions, Kirby crossed the basement and climbed another set of stairs.
The wounded German moved ahead and opened the doors leading to the outside. Kirby noticed the bloody hand prints on the door and knew that whoever came looking for him would see them too. They crossed a small courtyard to another set of stairs into another basement. The Germans seemed to know where they were going, not just running in a panic. He was sure of it when he saw the hole in the wall leading into yet another basement. His captors held a brief but heated debate in whispers before the wounded one pushed him through the hole. The unwounded one stayed behind. Kirby could only hope that he wouldn't be able to surprise anyone following them.
Eyeing the wounded kraut, he considered whether or not he could take him.
The German saw his appraisal and immediately became defensive. He waved his weapon at Kirby and ordered him to keep moving. They were half way down the block when rifle fire broke the silence. Kirby paused to listen as the German did the same. The battle was brief, there was fire from a German rifle followed by shots from one, maybe two, American guns. When the echoes died away the German paled even more and tried to push Kirby to go faster.
Knowing that the rest of the squad was behind him, and most likely looking for him, Kirby tried to drag his feet. The wounded German pointed his weapon at him and said something in a threatening tone. Kirby didn't understand the words but the tone and the look were clear enough. With a sigh he turned and headed in the direction that the German indicated. He strained to hear the sound of footsteps behind him, but all he heard was the wounded German.
The single shot further down the street stopped the squad in their tracks. They exchanged startled glances and looked to Saunders for orders.
Pausing to listen, Saunders could feel the eyes of the others locked on him. He debated his options, not wanting to lead his squad into a trap but not wanting to lose a chance to save Kirby if he was the one involved.
"Caje, take over. If we aren't back in five minutes you get the rest of the squad to the edge of town and try to hold on until help arrives."
"You may need me." The Cajun protested.
"I do need you, right here, to take my place if I don't make it back!"
The Cajun nodded wordlessly and assumed what he hoped was temporary command of the squad.
"Littlejohn, Nelson, Brockmeyer, and Patterson, come with me." Leading the way at a wary run, Saunders followed the sound of the single gunshot.
The five men stayed close to the buildings, each man searching ahead nervously. As they got closer to where the sergeant thought the shot had come from, they slowed their steps.
Saunders motioned for Littlejohn, Nelson, and Brockmeyer to go around the back of the building. Taking Patterson, he covered the front. Peering into the windows he searched for the source of the shot. He heard a quick movement inside and ducked as the window right next to his head exploded into a thousand tiny shards of glass.
Patterson swung his rifle around and gave the sergeant cover until he could find shelter from the enemy fire. Saunders heard someone run toward the back of the house and was about to yell a warning to the men he had guarding the rear when he heard Nelson shout. There was a quick burst of gunfire before Billy yelled again.
"We got him! Are you okay Litttlejohn?"
Taking a chance, Saunders looked in the door and rushed into the building. Patterson took up a position by the shattered window in case he needed cover. The room had an empty feel to it, reaffirmed by the hollow thump of the sergeant's boots on the wooden floor. Saunders stood and scanned the room before him, looking for anything that could be construed as a threat.
"Oh."
The soft groan sent Saunders ducking for cover. He heard a rustling sound in the next room. Taking shelter behind an overturned table, he called for whoever was in there to come out.
"Sarge?"
"Kirby?"
"Yeah, it's me." The BAR man answered, staggering through the connecting doorway like a drunk coming home from a party.
Saunders glanced at Patterson before going to Kirby. Satisfied that the other private would keep watch, he hurried toward the injured man.
"Where are you hit?"
"Hit?" Kirby looked confused for a moment as Saunders looked him over for injuries. "I'm not hit Sarge." He hurried to explain. "I hit my head trying to get away from that kraut." Kirby looked around as he remembered the German. "Where'd he go? He was right here a minute ago. He was wounded so I jumped him, but he must have been expecting it because he jumped back and took a shot at me. I dove for cover and hit my head on a heavy piece of wood furniture. The next thing I know you're yelling at me to come out." Kirby shook his head to clear it. "What happened to the kraut?"
"He ran out the back and ran into Littlejohn and Billy."
"Oh."
"You okay to walk or do we need to carry you?"
Kirby looked surprised at the question. "I'm okay Sarge. I only got blown down a flight of stairs, got taken prisoner, and dang near broke my head on a chunk of wood. Just another day in paradise; what makes you think I'd need to be carried?"
Saunders shook his head, annoyed at the sarcasm. He was about to respond until he remembered how he'd felt when he realized that they'd lost the BAR man. Biting his tongue, he settled for a nod.
"All right then, saddle up, we have a job to do."
"Hey Sarge?" Kirby sounded tentative as he sidled up next to Saunders. "You didn't happen to find my Browning, did you? I left it back in that building that exploded."
"The building exploded." Saunders repeated.
"Yeah, I know." Kirby answered sheepishly. "But I left it in another room, I thought maybe it survived."
Saunders gave in at the regret in Kirby's tone.
"The Browning's fine Kirby. I found it and left it with Fenton and Doc."
"Fenton and Doc! They don't know how to take care of a finely crafted weapon like the Browning! What were you thinking Sarge?"
Saunders shook his head at Kirby's indignation. He briefly wondered if it would have been quieter to leave the Germans keep the feisty soldier. "Don't worry about it." He explained. "I left Caje in charge; your Browning will be fine."
"Well all right then." Kirby relented. "Time to get back to work."
He walked away, leaving Saunders staring after him.