Part 2: Pvt Joseph Lydecker - Family

by Queen's Bishop

A tale of the ties that bind.

34

No infringement on the rights of the owners of "Combat!" is intended. This story is for the enjoyment of "Combat!" fans only, not for any monetary profit by the author.

I want to formally thank and acknowledge the huge contribution of Leslie Backus. Without her time and editing skill, this story would never have seen the light of day. Thanks also to JML for proof-reading and to Susan Rodriguez for beta reading and offering encouragement.

Pvt. Joseph Lydecker

by: Queen's Bishop

Part 2: Family

denotes French or German being spoken, depending on the character

A line of dialogue from 'The Short Day of Pvt. Putnam' is cited.

Summary of previous chapter, Nine Rules: Pvts. Lydecker and Jankowski joined the squad as replacements. Lydecker shared the rules for survival he had learned from his Drill Sergeant, 1st Sgt. Walters. After successfully capturing an OP, the men tried to fight off a Kraut attempt to retake the position, but were forced to make a last minute escape.

It had been three days of unremitting tension for the men of First Squad, Second Platoon, King Company. They traveled mostly at night, hiding and dodging Krauts who initially were trying to push the American lines back, but who later were retreating. With no radio, the squad had been unable to make contact with their platoon. However, now, unless the lines had shifted dramatically, Saunders thought they should be getting close to the village King Company had held before the battle.

The NCO was leery, knowing the guards would be on edge. And, he had no idea what today's passwords might be. He was tired. He was beyond tired, beyond exhausted. What was beyond exhausted? He tried to think, but decided he couldn't even make the effort to do that. He would like to stop and rest, but knew if he did, he wouldn't be able to rouse himself, let alone his men, to continue moving forward. So, they trudged on, putting one weary foot in front of the other.

He looked back over his left shoulder. Lydecker was there, still alert, scanning left, right, up and down for any sign of enemy activity. The young soldier had done well his first time out. He had followed orders and his marksmanship, along with his ability to speak German, had been big pluses for the squad. He was still green, but Saunders had growing confidence in his ability to handle himself.

"Lydecker."

"Yes, Sergeant."

"Keep moving forward. Watch Caje for signals. I'm gonna drop back an' check on the rest of the men."

"Yes, Sergeant."

The dual responsibilities of completing the mission he was assigned and protecting his men weighed heavily on the sergeant. These men were his family right now, although he had learned from painful experience not to get too close to any of them. Still, he knew they depended on him and trusted him to watch out for them. Just like his family back home. As he stood and waited for Lydecker to pass and then Littlejohn and Nelson to come up to him, he thought momentarily of his real family.

Charlie Saunders, seated in an overstuffed chair, leaned forward and looked at the boy who stood before him. He smiled to himself. The boy was the spitting image of him when he was twelve, a real 'chip off the old block.' Like his father, the boy would not grow to be overly tall, just of average height, but of sturdy build. His unruly mop of golden hair was already bleached by the late spring sun and, at this moment, his crystal blue eyes were studying his feet. Father and son even shared the same stubborn streak and quick temper, which the boy would have to learn to control.

Charlie looked over the boy's shoulder at his wife, Grace, who was standing in the doorway of the bedroom. She gave him a small, sad smile and nodded. They had discussed the necessity of this conversation numerous times, and Charlie knew he could no longer put it off. He looked at the boy again. Chip looked up into his father's eyes and began to speak.

"Gosh, Dad, it's just that Robbie's always taggin' along after me."

'Dad! When had he started calling me Dad,' the man thought to himself.' Wasn't it 'Daddy' just last week?'

"Oh, kind of like how you always used to tag along after me," his father responded. He didn't add 'before I got sick.' He could see that the boy had added that last bit to the statement on his own.

Charlie paused, sighed, then gently asked, "Chip, do you know what it means to BE a man?"

The boy looked perplexed. "Sure, Dad. It's when you grow up an' start to shave an' your voice gets deep."

"Yes, that's what happens when a boy grows up. Those are all changes that happen automatically. You don't have to do anything. But, to BE a man is something more. Those are changes YOU have to make here," he tapped the boy's forehead, "and here," he tapped the boy's chest over his heart.

Charlie paused and looked at his wife. Oh, God, he didn't want to do this. But, she nodded her head to encourage him. So, he ran his fingers through his own unruly mop of blond hair, swallowed and reached out to gently hold the boy's arms, drawing him in a little closer.

"I'm telling you this, Chip, because I'm not going to be around much longer, and…"

"NO! Don't SAY that, Daddy," the boy shouted and struggled to get loose from his father's grip.

The man looked up again, but his wife had left the room and closed the door softly behind her. Charlie pulled his son to his chest and held him there while the boy convulsed with sobs. When the boy finally calmed down, the man gently continued.

"You know I've been sick for a while. I'm not getting any better…Chip, I'm not going to get any better, only worse…I'm not going to be around to help you grow up to BE a man, so there are a few things I want to tell you now, while I still have the time.

"First off, and most importantly, BEING a man means doing everything you can to protect and take care of your family.

"It also means finishing the job. If a man gives his word that he's going to do something, he does it. He doesn't say, 'oh, it's too hot,' or, 'I'm too tired.' A man's word is his bond, and when all is said and done, you're only as good as your word. Do you understand, son?"

Chip nodded.

His father continued, "Finally, BEING a man means always trying to do the right thing. Sometimes you don't know what the right thing is exactly, because it's often not the easy thing, or the popular thing. But, you try. You do the right thing by your family, and you do the right thing by keeping your word. Do you see how they're all tied together?"

Again, the boy nodded.

"You're only twelve and I don't expect you'll be able to take over and be the man of the family overnight. But, you're the oldest and the responsibility will fall to you. You're going to be the one who will have to help Robbie and then Joey and Chris to grow up and BE men. You're going to have to help your mother and little sister. Can I count on you?"

"Yes, Daddy, I'll do my best," the boy answered solemnly.

Later that evening Grace sat by her husband's bedside and held his hand.

"Do you know what Chip said to me after supper?"

The boy was taking his schoolbooks downstairs in preparation for the next day when he heard his name mentioned as he passed his parents' room. So, he stopped and peeked through the open door to watch and to listen.

"No, what did he say?"

"He asked if he could have some money from the cookie jar to buy an alarm clock. He said he's going to get a paper route and will need to get up early in the morning. He doesn't want me to have to get up to wake him up."

"He's going to be a fine man." Charlie said wearily. He sighed and drifted off the sleep.

Grace brushed a lock of golden hair off her husband's forehead and kissed him. "Yes," she softly responded, "just like his father."

Chip vowed to keep his promise to his father.

As they approached their sergeant, Nelson stumbled, but Littlejohn quickly grabbed his arm and steadied his friend. Saunders fell in beside them for a moment. Their fatigue was etched on their faces, and evident in every movement they took.

"How much longer, Sarge?" Littlejohn asked wearily.

"Soon, Littlejohn, soon."

"Do you think we can get a hot meal when we get there? I'm real hungry."

Saunders smiled. 'When wasn't the big private hungry?' he thought. "I don't know, Littlejohn. I hope so. We could all use a hot meal."

Saunders paused to let the two men pass. He saw Jankowski approaching and he scowled.

"Pick that rifle up! Don't you EVER let me see you dragging it in the dirt again. Do you hear me!" he growled.

Jankowski glared at Saunders. How he hated his guts. "Yeah, I hear ya," he said as he shouldered his rifle.

Jankowski moved past and the NCO fell in beside Doc.

Doc shook his head. 'I'm glad keeping Jankowski in line wasn't my responsibility,' he thought. 'That replacement had been nothing but trouble since he joined the squad.' "Sarge, you better see to Kirby. Something's wrong with him."

"What?"

"Ah don't know. He's just not himself."

"Okay, Doc. I'll talk to him."

The first thing Saunders noticed when he fell in beside Kirby was that the BAR man was quiet. Kirby's mouth was usually running with one complaint after another whenever they weren't near or behind Kraut lines.

"Kirby, you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, Sarge…I've just been thinkin', that's all. Do ya think we might all be dead an' this is hell?"

Saunders looked at Kirby and wondered where that idea could possibly have come from. "Well, Kirby, I know this isn't hell, because if it was, I'd have to listen to you complain constantly and never be able to shut you up." The sergeant heard Doc stifle a laugh. "What makes you so philosophical all of a sudden?"

"Philly what?...Sarge, it's this war. It's really beginnin' to get on my nerves. Sometimes I just feel all numb inside….an' I need a woman to even make me feel alive. When do ya think it'll be over?"

Saunders shook his head, trying to disperse some of his own numbness. There were so many questions he couldn't answer. "With soldiers like you, Kirby, maybe another ten years…An' you're not gonna find any women out here, so keep your mind on watching out for Krauts."

With that, Saunders picked up his pace and headed back up the line. He glanced at Doc as he passed and the medic sadly shook his head. Jankowski was still sullen, but at least his rifle was slung over his shoulder. Littlejohn and Nelson were still plodding forward, helping each other along. As he came up on Lydecker's shoulder, the young private turned to him.

"Sergeant, if tomorrow's Sunday, do you think the chaplain will come up to the line and have a service?"

"I don't know what day of the week it is. Ask the lieutenant when we get back."

"Yes, Sergeant."

"Go up an' take the point with Caje.

"Yes, Sergeant."

Lydecker picked up his pace. He was pleased the sergeant had enough confidence in him to have him take the point, even if they were almost home, and even if the Cajun would also be there.

The scout heard the movement behind him so he turned around and saw Lydecker advancing. He paused to let the kid catch up.

"Caje, the sergeant wants me on point with you."

"Okay. I figure we're pretty close to our lines, but don't let your guard down. And, our own sentries will be jumpy, so we'll want to stop before we move up on dem."

Joey nodded.

Caje watched as Lydecker moved off to his left. The kid had handled himself well his first time out, so the scout knew Saunders wanted him to start showing Joey what was expected of the point man.

"Halt, who goes there? Stand and be recognized!" the shaky voice of a young private Saunders wasn't familiar with issued the challenge.

Caje held the sergeant's Tommy gun as Saunders stepped forward with his hands raised. The rest of the squad remained back, behind cover.

The private looked at the sergeant and stated the sign, "San Francisco!"

The other guard, Thurber, the tall red-headed Texan from Third Squad, looked at the dirty, tired GI standing before him. "Well, it's about time y'all got back, Sgt. Saunders." He turned to his partner, "Jenkins, run an' tell Lt. Hanley that First Squad's back."

"But what about the countersign?"

"Jenkins, just do like Ah told ya," he said with exasperation. "NOW!" he added for emphasis. As the young private scurried off, the sentry turned back to Saunders. "Ah don't suppose y'all know what the countersign is?"

"Not a clue, Thurber," Saunders replied as he took off his helmet and ran his fingers through his dirty, sweat-soaked hair. He waved his men forward.

"Didn't think so. I didn't want the kid to hear that. It would really've rattled him something fierce. He might've shot y'all as infiltrators." Thurber laughed at his own joke.

The village was attempting to return to some sort of wartime normalcy after the most recent battle. Shopkeepers were sweeping their sidewalks and café owners were setting out small tables and chairs under torn awnings. A few civilians were walking about. On the corner, as First Squad entered the village, was a family, parents and two children. As the soldiers passed by, the girl looked them all over, pointed to Lydecker and then turned to her parents.

That's the one.

Are you sure? asked her father.

Oh yes, Papa, please.

Alright, I'll see if it's possible. 'The children have been denied so much for so long,' the father thought. He would try to grant his daughter this one request. Go with your mother and brother back to the farm. I'll be along after a while.

The farmer walked over to one of the outdoor cafés and greeted the proprietor. He ordered a glass of wine as he watched his family walk down the street and disappear around a corner as they headed for home. After a moment, he turned his attention back to the soldiers who had just come into the village.

Lt. Hanley stood in the small village square as the squad came to a staggering halt before him. He was so relieved to see them that he couldn't help but grin.

"Well, Sergeant, that took a little longer than I expected."

Saunders nodded and replied wearily, "We had to take a few detours."

The lieutenant scanned the tired men before he spoke to the exhausted sergeant. "Just give me the highlights and you can fill in the details after you've had some rest…I've got a nice billet picked out for the squad. BROCK…!" he yelled.

The corporal had also hurried out to greet First Squad after Jenkins came rushing into the CP. He was standing just behind the lieutenant and it gave the officer a little start when he quietly replied, "Yes, Sir," before Hanley could even finish calling for him.

"Take the men to the inn, and then point them in the direction of a hot meal."

"Yes, Sir."

Upon hearing 'hot meal,' Littlejohn perked up. He and Billy fell in beside Brockmeyer as the corporal headed down the street. When Lydecker came up to where the lieutenant and the sergeant were still standing, he came to attention.

"Yes, what is it, Lydecker?"

"Sir, Ah was wondering what day of the week it was."

The lieutenant tried to hide his smile. He had long since given up keeping track of the days of the week. "Well, Private, I'm not sure."

"Sir, Ah think it might be Saturday. Lieutenant, do you know if the chaplain will be here tomorrow to give a service?"

'So that's what's on his mind,' thought Hanley. "I don't know, but I'll find out and let you know."

"Thank you, Lieutenant." Lydecker turned and moved quickly to catch up with the rest of the squad.

Saunders took off his pack and handed it to Caje as the scout and Kirby walked past. He followed Hanley back to the CP.

Instead of the barn which they had previously occupied, Brockmeyer led them to what had once been a small inn. Much of the building was destroyed, including, to Kirby's dismay, the wine cellar. But, the lobby was still relatively intact. All that was left from when another squad had been billeted there was a single mattress on the floor and a few chairs clustered in one corner of the room,

"The kitchen sent up a jeep with some hot food. It's just down this street an' to the left. Ya can't miss it," the corporal stated.

"Has our stuff been brought forward?" asked Littlejohn.

"Yeah. All the duffle bags are in the church," Brockmeyer said on his way out the door.

Jankowski immediately moved to lay claim to the mattress.

"Hey, get off dat mattress!" Caje said angrily when he turned around and saw Jankowski.

"Why should I? I'm here first."

"'Cause it's for the Sarge," Kirby responded.

"Look, I' here first an' I'm keeping it." Jankowski said defiantly, looking to the rest of the men for support.

"Oh yeah?" Littlejohn loomed over him, joined by the rest of the squad.

"Jankowski, it's for the Sarge. Getting the mattress is one of the privileges of rank," Doc tried to explain. What he didn't say, but what all of the men, except for Jankowski, would no doubt have agreed with was that as tired as they were, the sergeant was probably more spent.

However, the disagreeable private was unmoved. He had decided that if he stood his ground, the rest of the men would back down. That had always been his experience. Unfortunately for him, he had never run into battle-hardened soldiers before. They were through discussing the matter. They picked up the replacement and tossed him out into the street.

"Come back when ya can behave like a member of the squad instead of a spoiled brat," Kirby called after him.

Even Littlejohn, who seldom agreed with anything Kirby had to say, agreed with that sentiment.

With that bit of housecleaning accomplished, Doc said, "Kirby and Caje, y'all take the chairs."

Littlejohn nodded in agreement. He knew he was too big to be able to sleep comfortably on any of them.

"No, Doc, I'd rader sleep on de floor by de door. You take it," Caje replied.

"Okay, thanks, Caje. Billy or Joey, you want the other one?"

Both soldiers declined.

Kirby said, "Well if nobody wants it, my poor achin' dogs could sure use it." He pulled the chair next to the one he had already claimed and stretched out.

Doc looked around. "Listen, before y'all sack out, we should get something to eat. Let's find our duffle bags and get our mess kits."

The men grumbled but filed out of the inn, heading for the church. They didn't see the private they had just unceremoniously removed from the inn lurking in the alley, watching them pass by.

Jankowski thought about returning to the lobby while they were gone and hacking up the mattress and chairs with his bayonet, but decided that would only get him beaten up or sent to the stockade. No, he would bide his time. He remembered what his father had once said, 'Revenge is best served cold.'

Once they had located their belongings, the men headed back to the inn and rummaged around for their mess kits. Doc knew the sergeant kept his right on top, so he pulled it out and called to Lydecker.

"Joey, go back to CP and wait for the Sarge. Take his mess kit with you and bring him to the kitchen jeep...and don't take no for an answer."

Lydecker looked a little uncertain. He didn't think he could tell the sergeant what to do.

"Just tell him Ah said so!" Doc added with a laugh.

"Well…okay, Doc. We'll meet y'all there."

Littlejohn didn't have to be asked twice. "C'mon, let's get something to eat, an' then we can sleep for a week."

Saunders followed Hanley into the CP. The lieutenant handed his sergeant a cigarette and shook the pack to get another one for himself before he pulled out his lighter and lit both of them.

"Do you want a cup of coffee?" Hanley asked.

"No, thanks. I just want to sleep for a week…or even six hours would be nice."

"Okay, just give me the bare bones of your report. We can fill in the rest later."

Saunders told Hanley about taking the OP and losing Willis in the process, how they had acquired the information about the Kraut push, their retreat from the OP and the return trip to the American lines. By the time he was finished, Hanley could see that the NCO would be asleep on the crate he was using for a chair in another minute.

"Come on, Saunders. I'll show you to where the squad is billeted." Hanley pulled his friend to his feet and steered him to the door. Outside, he saw Lydecker standing at the bottom of the two steps, waiting. The private came to attention.

"Something I can do for you, Private?"

"Sir, Doc wanted me to bring the sergeant his mess kit and escort him to the kitchen jeep."

"Well, in that case, escort away," Hanley said with a grin.

The private waited for the sergeant to make his way down the steps. Hanley watched as the two men headed down the street. He only caught the murmur of a conversation and a bit of laughter as they walked away. The lieutenant could only envy the easy rapport Saunders had with his men, something he knew he could never enjoy.

"Caje, I think I'm gonna find me a mamozell," Kirby said as they headed back to the inn after having eaten their first hot chow in almost a week.

Caje stared at his friend. "Well, before you do, mon ami, you need to find yourself a shower! No self-respecting French woman is going to want to be wid you."

"I don't care if she's respectable."

"Let me say dis anot'er way, mon ami. No man, woman, child or billy goat will want to be widin ten yards of you!"

"Well, Caje, it ain't like you're smellin' like lilacs yourself, ya know."

Doc exploded with laughter. Not the little chortle kind, but the throw back your head, tears running down your cheeks, from the belly kind. The rest of the men in the squad stared at him in wonder. Then they, too, started to laugh. Up ahead, the sergeant looked over his shoulder, grinned and shook his head. It had been a tense few days for everyone.

They had just finished getting cleaned up and putting on cleaner clothes when there was a knock at the door. Billy was the closest, so he opened it, half expecting to find Jankowski, helmet in hand. Instead, he was face to face with a French villager.

"Caje, you'd better come and take care of this."

Caje just wanted to lie down and go to sleep, but he went to the door. Hello sir, how may I help you?

Ah, you speak French.

Yes, my name is Paul LeMay. How may I help you?

M. LeMay, I hate to intrude. I saw you come in earlier. I know you are all very tired.

Yes? Caje was trying to be polite, but he wished the Frenchman would hurry up and get to the point.

The rest of the squad had all stopped what they were doing and were observing the interaction between the two men.

M. LeMay, my name in Pierre Rouchelette. My family and I have a small farm about three kilometers outside the village, to the south. It is my daughter Michelle's wish…our family's wish…to express our appreciation to you American soldiers. We cannot feed all of you, but we would like to invite one of you to share dinner with us tomorrow. My daughter has selected that soldier. He pointed to Lydecker.

It had been a long speech, ending with the singling out of Lydecker. The squad wondered how the young private could have gotten himself into some kind of trouble. Saunders got up from the mattress and walked over to stand beside the scout.

"What's going on, Caje?"

Caje translated what the Frenchman had said.

Kirby piped up, "Caje, ask him how old his daughter is. Maybe I should go!"

"Shut up, Kirby," the sergeant replied, but Caje asked the question.

Sir, how old is your daughter?

She is just sixteen. Henri, my son, is twelve.

When the sergeant heard the age of the girl, he could see why she had selected Lydecker. He turned to the young private.

"Are you interested?"

"Sergeant, Ah was gonna go to the service tomorrow, if the chaplain's coming."

Saunders sighed and then looked around at his men. "Alright…Doc, go over to the CP an' find out if the chaplain's coming tomorrow. Also, tell Lt. Hanley about this…er situation an' see if he knows anything about Mr. Rouchelette."

"Okay, Sarge. Ah'll be right back."

"Caje, explain to Mr. Rouchelette that we have to wait for some information. He's welcome to wait here with us."

There was an awkward silence as the squad awaited Doc's return. Everyone wanted to lie down and go to sleep, but nobody wanted to miss anything either. Jankowski chose that moment to make his reappearance. He looked around, mumbled an apology for his behavior and then slunk to the back of the lobby. His squad mates ignored him as they focused their attention on the door. Doc returned a few minutes later.

"Sarge, the chaplain will be here at 1000 and give a service at 1100. The lieutenant said he expects all squad leaders to encourage a good turnout," he added with a grin. "As for Mr. Rouchelette, the lieutenant said he's been a big help to S-2, so if Joey's willing, he thinks it would be a nice gesture to accept the invitation."

"Lydecker, it's up to you."

"Okay, Sergeant, Ah'll do it." Lydecker sounded less than enthusiastic.

"What's the matter, Joey?" asked Billy.

"Having dinner with a girl's family and Ah don't speak French. Don't y'all think Caje should go?" He looked hopefully at the scout.

Caje turned to the Frenchman. Pvt. Lydecker is concerned that he doesn't speak French.

Ah, tell him not to worry. My wife and I don't speak English, but both of my children do. What time should she be here to meet him?

He's going to church at 11 o'clock, so how about 12:15?

Ah, that is good to hear. We also will be attending Mass. Michelle will meet him here at 12:15 and they can walk to our home for dinner. Thank you. This will make her very happy.

As Mr. Rouchelette left the inn, the stares of the soldiers followed him down the street.

"What'd he say, Caje?" asked Littlejohn.

Caje relayed the message.

Lydecker looked pale. "Ah think Ah'm gonna be sick," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

The rest of the men laughed. They lie down and quickly fell asleep. Joey, however, tossed and turned before finally drifting off.

Although everyone had the intention of sleeping the morning away, when the sergeant opened his eyes, he found that all of his men were already up.

"Here, Sarge, have a cup of coffee," Littlejohn offered Saunders the cup after he had yawned and stretched.

"Thanks, Littlejohn. What's going on?"

Littlejohn chuckled. "We're getting Joey ready for his date. We figured he could take a couple of packs of cigarettes as a gift for Mr. Rouchelette and chocolate bars for the brother, but we can't figure out what he should take for Mrs. Rouchelette. Any ideas?"

Saunders tried to think back to when he was just starting to go out with girls. He remembered one painful instance when he had arrived to pick up his date on the wrong afternoon, but he couldn't recall if he had ever taken a present for any of the girls' mothers.

"I still say it should be flowers. Women always like flowers," hollered Kirby from across the room.

"He can't sit in church for an hour holding a bouquet of flowers. They'd get all…wilty," responded Billy. "Hey, how about some soap? It's pretty hard for civilians to come by."

"That's a good idea," said Doc. "and I bet it would be appreciated. I got some stashed away."

"Has anyone asked Lydecker what he thinks about this?" the NCO asked.

Kirby laughed. "I think he's outside throwin' up his breakfast, Sarge."

Saunders felt sorry for the kid. He could remember coaching his brother, Robbie, through his first date. It's funny to these guys, but he bet they were in no better shape when they started going out with girls.

That settled, the men moved on to what would be appropriate for Michelle. Several ideas were suggested and rejected before Littlejohn asked a logical question.

"Sarge, Kirby, you both got younger sisters. What did they like when they were sixteen?"

"Oh, ya big moose, how would I know…I'm not an expert on little girls. Now, if ya ask me about their older sisters… "

"Yeah, we know, Romeo. Sarge, any ideas?"

Saunders shook his head. His sister Louise was just twelve when he had enlisted after Pearl Harbor, and even though she wrote to him regularly, that wasn't the kind of information she generally included in her chatty letters. Wanting to get away from this conversation, the sergeant put on his boots, grabbed his helmet and slung the Thompson over his shoulder. He headed down the street to see if the kitchen truck was still there dishing out breakfast.

Littlejohn was hunched over. "Hold still, Joey. I can't get this tied right if you keep squirming around."

"Ah could do it mahself, Littlejohn, if you'd just let me."

"No, you'd end up with a crooked knot. Just hold still and I'll get it."

"Hey, don't ya think he should shave before ya get the necktie on?" asked Kirby.

Caje came over to where Littlejohn and Joey were standing. He took hold of Lydecker's chin and turned his head to the left and the right.

"No, Kirby. His cheeks are still like a baby's bottom," Caje said with a chuckle.

"Sheez, I was shaving when I was nine."

"Yeah, sure, Kirby," Littlejohn said with a laugh.

Lydecker looked at his watch. It was already 1020. He pulled away from Littlejohn, grabbed his rifle and helmet and bolted from the inn. He ran into Saunders in the street, almost knocking him down in his rush.

"Where're you going?"

"Ah need to speak with the chaplain, Sergeant," Lydecker yelled as he continued down the street.

Lydecker arrived at the spot where the chaplain was going to be conducting the service. He saw a short line of soldiers off to one side and walked over to join them.

"Is this the line to speak with the chaplain?" he asked the soldier in front of him.

"Yeah. It's not too long a wait. He's movin' things right along."

When it was his turn, the chaplain waved him to come forward.

"Good morning, my son. Are you Catholic? Would you like to give Confession?"

Lydecker looked at the chaplain. He was an older man with silver hair and kind eyes. "No, Sir, Ah'm not Catholic. Ah was wondering if Ah could just talk to you."

"Of course. Let's sit over here. What's your name?"

"Lydecker, Sir, Pvt. Joseph Lydecker."

The chaplain led Lydecker behind a jeep where the other soldiers still waiting in line wouldn't be able to hear what was being said.

He looked at the young soldier and asked, "How long have you been at the front?"

"Not quite a week, Sir."

"And has it been rough?"

Lydecker answered quietly, "Chaplain, Ah've killed several men…enemy soldiers."

The chaplain had had this conversation with many young soldiers after their first experience in battle. He was prepared to give his usual response, that it is a soldier's duty to fight and kill to protect himself and his comrades and that God would forgive him. But, when he started to speak, he looked at Pvt. Lydecker and saw the same haunted look he used to see on his own face when he looked in the mirror. So, he waited for the private to continue.

After a silence, Lydecker added, "Ah…there was a sniper and two machine gunners and some Krauts who were rushing the house we were holding…Ah shot and kilt them…And Willis got kilt and Ah hardly even got to know him…Now, Ah can't get their faces out of my head."

The chaplain looked at the young man and thought of his own private struggle. "Pvt. Lydecker, I, too, was a soldier…in the Great War…and I, too, had to kill to save myself and the other men in my unit. For a long time I would see the faces of the men I had killed as well as the faces of my fallen comrades. I would hear their shrieks of agony and cries for their mothers.

"It slowly dawned on me that if I could find God's purpose for my own life…then perhaps it would also give their deaths a meaning. So, I became a priest. I still sometimes see their faces at night, but now I see them as reassuring me that their sacrifice was not in vain. Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying you should become a priest," he said with a chuckle, "I'm only telling you what worked for me. But, I do believe that if you find God's purpose for your life, whatever that purpose might be, you'll also find peace."

Lydecker sat quietly for a moment, then he nodded.

"I hope I've helped you, my son. Go with God."

"Thank you, Chaplain."

Saunders' trip to get a hot breakfast had been a success. Sgt. Tonelli, the mess sergeant, was there and walked over while he was finishing up his oatmeal.

"Hey, I've been savin' this for ya. It's a real good story." Sgt. Tonelli handed Saunders a book.

"Thanks, Tony…"

"My pleasure. Ya just keep them Krauts outa my kitchen."

"We'll do our best," Saunders said with a laughed.

As Saunders headed back to the inn he looked at the book Tony has given him, How Green Was My Valley*. He stuffed it into his hip pocket to enjoy later. As he passed what had been a millinery shop, he thought back to Littlejohn's question about what type of things his kid sister liked and he had an idea. He walked into the rubble and began searching. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for. As he headed back down the street, he almost ran into Lydecker as the private hurried out of the inn.

"Did you come up with anything for Lydecker to give to Michelle?" Saunders asked as he entered the lobby.

"No, we're still working on that," Littlejohn replied.

Saunders reached into his field jacket and pulled out the items he had picked up at the millinery shop. He walked to the back of the room and put them on Lydecker's bedroll.

"What's that, Sarge?" asked Doc.

"Like Littlejohn said, something my sister used to like. I don't know if she still does, though."

"Can we see?"

"Sure."

Doc smiled as he held up red, gold and green hair ribbons for all to see.

Littlejohn had scrounged around and found a sack for the gifts. He carefully packed the cigarettes, two chocolate bars, three small bars of soap and the hair ribbons. It was getting late and the men were beginning to think Joey had chickened out when he finally walked in.

"Where ya been?" Kirby demanded. "Tryin' to get outa goin'?"

"Ah had business to attend to," Lydecker answered, looking at the sergeant. Saunders didn't let on that he knew Lydecker had been to speak with the chaplain.

Doc shook his head. "Leave him alone, Kirby…Anyway, it's time for the service."

Billy and Littlejohn joined Joey and Doc as they headed out the door. Caje followed them out, but then headed for the church to attend Mass with the villagers. Saunders stretched out on the mattress and began reading his new book while Kirby paced for several minutes before finally settling down to clean his BAR. Jankowski was nowhere to be found, and his presence wasn't missed by his squad mates.

Billy was keeping watch at the window. "Hurry up, she's gonna be here any minute."

"It's okay, we're ready," said Littlejohn as he continued to explain to Joey all of the gifts the men had collected for him to give to the Rouchelette family.

"Thanks, guys. That was real nice of y'all."

The gentle giant smiled at him. "We're glad to do it, Joey. Now listen, don't forget your manners."

"And look her father in the eye an' give him a firm handshake," offered Billy.

Caje added, "Be sure to dank Mrs. Rouchelette for de fine meal. She doesn't speak English so use de word for dank you in French, 'merci'. She'll understand what you mean."

"And, Joey, smile. Everything will be fine," chimed in Doc.

Lydecker nodded and looked around the room at his grinning comrades. He was feeling very weak in the knees. It wasn't that he'd never had a date before. He had escorted Lyda Mae Weller to the Fourth of July parade and picnic and Martha Sue Porter to a church social. But, those were girls he knew from church and school, so they had things to talk about. He wondered what he could say to this unknown French girl. He wanted to back out, but a whisper from Billy that, "she's here," followed by a knock took away that option.

Caje opened the door, and there was a pretty young lady in a clean but well worn dress standing in the entrance. Her long dark hair was pulled back from her face but fell freely over her shoulders in gentle curls. Her dark eyes were shining as she smiled confidently at Caje and spoke to him in French.

Hello, M. LeMay? My name is Michelle Rouchelette. I'm here to meet Pvt. Lydecker. Is he ready?

Yes, Miss, he's right here.

Caje turned around to locate Lydecker just as Littlejohn gave him a little shove forward.

Caje made the introductions. "Michelle, dis is Pvt. Lydecker…Joey. Joey, Miss Rouchelette."

"Please, call me Michelle."

Just then a boy with curly dark hair and dark eyes pushed his way in front of Michelle.

"And I am her broder, Henri. I am to be her…" He turned to his sister, How do you say chaperone in English?"

Henri, Papa said, if you came, you were to behave yourself and stay in the background.

Yes, and Momma said that this soldier must know that you have a chaperone and are not some loose woman.

Henri, where do you hear about such things! Alright, you've introduced yourself. Now disappear.

Lydecker looked at Caje, who gave him a smile. "Family business," the Cajun said.

Saunders stepped up and whispered in Joey's ear as he put something in his hand. Then he said, "You two better get going. Oh, an' Lydecker, I want you to report back to me no later than 1700. You got that."

"Yes, Sergeant; thank you, Sergeant."

Lydecker put on his helmet and slung his rifle over his shoulder. He held the door for Michelle as she left the inn. Joey gave one last pathetic look at his squad mates before heading down the steps to walk beside her. Immediately, Henri insinuated himself between the two of them, much to Michelle's annoyance and to the squad's delight as they watched them go.

"Hey, Caje, what was all that Frenchie talk about?" asked Kirby.

Caje laughed. "Oh noding. The kid is going to have a great time."

Getting no information from the Cajun, Kirby turned to Saunders. "What did ya say to him, Sarge?"

"Sometimes you have to know how to deal with little brothers," was all Saunders said as he picked up his book and stretched out on the mattress.

Back in the street, the trio began the walk to the farm. Lydecker pulled out the piece of chocolate the sergeant had just slipped him.

Giving Henri a big smile and holding out the candy, he said, "Why don't you walk on ahead of us."

Henri grabbed the chocolate and happily scampered down the road so his sister couldn't grab the sweet treat from him.

The private was warmly welcomed into the Rouchelette home. It was a small, tidy house, seemingly untouched by the war that had raged around it. Lydecker's gifts were well received. Michelle immediately chose the red ribbon and retied her hair. Mr. Rouchelette opened a pack of cigarettes, extracted one and lit up, drawing the smoke deep into his lungs and closing his eyes as he savored the almost forgotten pleasure. Lydecker thought Mrs. Rouchelette was going to cry when he handed her the bars of soap. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. He only gave Henri one of the chocolate bars. He was a quick learner, so he kept the second one in reserve, just in case he needed to bribe the boy again.

After a simple but filling meal of a vegetable casserole, bread, cheese and wine, Michelle asked her parents if she could take Pvt. Lydecker for a walk down to the meadow. It was full of wild flowers and one of her favorite places to visit. Permission was granted and the two headed off, with Henri trailing behind. Joey couldn't tell if he was fulfilling his role as the designated chaperone or he had hopes of acquiring more chocolate. None of the three young people noticed that what had been a bright sunny day was giving way to an increasingly cloudy sky.

Joey needn't have worried about what he was going to talk about. Michelle easily carried the conversation. He listened and nodded at appropriate intervals while she talked. Speaking with only basic present tense English, she told him of her family's life before the war and how the Boche had occupied the village. She spoke of friends she had lost and the hardships the villagers had endured. She said how fortunate they were because the farm was outside the town and not close to the road.

Sometimes, she said, she had pretended there was no war and everything was as it had been. But, she said with a big smile, now she no longer had to pretend. With the arrival of the Americans, she thought their lives would return to what they had been so many years ago.

They walked and talked without heeding how far they had traveled or the ever darkening sky. Henri sometimes walked at his sister's side and sometimes wandered off.

Suddenly, the quiet Sunday afternoon was interrupted by a flash of lightening and rolling thunder as big drops of rain began to fall. Michelle looked around, realized where they were and grabbed Joey's hand. She called to her brother.

"Come wid me. I know where we go."

They crossed a field and ran through a stand of trees, laughing as the rain quickly soaked them. There in a clearing stood a small house. Michelle ran to it and opened the door, pushing Henri and Joey inside.

"M. Boulois live here. He help Papa wid' de farm and work in de village," she said, panting to catch her breath. "De Boche, dey kill him."

Michelle closed the door on the storm. All three were shivering in their wet clothes.

"Josef and Henri, you make some fire. I get dry clothes."

Joey looked around. The house had only two rooms that he could see, the main one, which contained a wood stove, sink, and small table with two chairs on one side and a bookcase, two old easy chairs, a small end table and a rug before a fireplace on the other. The second room, where Michelle had disappeared, was, he supposed, the bedroom.

There was kindling on the hearth and a box of wood and matches near the stove. He found an old newspaper and, using that and the kindling, he soon had a fire going in the fireplace.

Meanwhile, in the other room, Michelle took off her wet clothes and put on a shirt and trousers that had belonged to M. Boulois. She hung up her wet dress, and left her shoes in the small room, walking barefoot back into the main room.

"Henri and Josef, you lose de wet clothes. Dere are old ones of M. Boulois for you. I make tisane for us to get warm."

Lydecker stared at her like she was crazy. But, she put her hands on her hips, tilted her head and just looked at him with determination. He found himself walking into the bedroom after Henri and closing the door.

Henri took off his wet clothes and left them in a pile on the floor. He put on another of Mr. Boulois' shirts and trousers.

Joey leaned his rifle against the wall behind the door and hung his helmet and web belt on a peg on the back of the door. He took off his boots and socks, field jacket, shirt, undershirt and pants and hung the wet clothes under Michelle's dress. 'At least,' he thought, 'her dress might get dry.'

Michelle had pulled the two easy chairs up closer to the fire and put the little table between them. She had a pot of water sitting on the hearth. Outside, she could hear the increased intensity of the storm.

"Do not be worrying," she called from the main room, "dis storm it will fast be over."

Joey had just put on an old pair of trousers when the door to the house burst open and in stormed three gun-toting Krauts followed by an officer and then two more soldiers, all equally wet from the storm.

Michelle dropped the cups of tea she was holding.

In the little bedroom, Henri, his eyes wide with fear, looked at Joey. Lydecker signaled for him to be quiet and to get under the bed. He didn't have time to change back into his uniform, so he quickly removed his dog tags and tossed them under the bed with Henri.

Don't move! Who else is here? the Kraut lieutenant demanded.

I don't understand German. Do you speak French? Michelle calmly responded.

The lieutenant stared at her, but did not respond. So, she tried again, "I do speak no German. Do you speak English?"

"Yes, I speak English. Stay where you are. Who else is here?"

The door to the little room opened and Lydecker stepped out and smiled. All of the guns were trained on him.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?"

The girl immediately responded, "My name is Michelle Rouchelette. I live on de farm near to here. He is my neighbor and friend, Josef LeMay. We take a walk to look at de wild flowers, and we get wet with de rain."

The officer turned to Lydecker. "Do you speak English?"

Before Joey could say anything, Michelle responded. "Josef is…he is simple. You understand?"

Joey looked a little perplexed, but then he gave her a big grin.

The lieutenant looked at him suspiciously. "Can he not hear or speak?"

"Yes. But he is…simple. You can talk, can't you Josef?

Lydecker looked at Michelle and grinned. "No!" he said like a defiant two-year-old.

"I see," the officer responded. He looked at the girl dressed in farmer's garb and the boy wearing only a pair of trousers that were too large in the waist and short in the legs for him. "Very well. Sit down and be quiet."

Michelle took Joey's hand and guided him to a chair. She patted the seat, indicating he should sit down.

The officer stood before the fire, thinking about the two French teenagers. He was on a raiding mission, to cause as much chaos behind enemy lines as possible. If the raid went well, it would be copied by other units. Then, he would be noticed and perhaps promoted. To go well, he must operate in secrecy until it was time to strike. The officer turned to his men and gave them a series of orders.

Schmitt, check out the rest of this house. Dorfmann and Schuller, join the rest of the men outside. Wagner, set up the radio on that table. Bormann, keep watch at the window.

The soldiers moved to carry out the orders. Lydecker, having understood what the lieutenant said, held his breath as Schmitt moved toward the small bedroom. The door was already open. Schmitt took only one step into the room, saw the pile of wet clothes lying on the floor and assumed they were Lydecker's. He did a cursory scan and stepped back out into the main room. He looked around but there were no other doors or rooms. He reported to the lieutenant and then joined Bormann at the window where the two entered into a quiet conversation.

Sir, the radio is ready. I have made contact with headquarters, Wagner said.

The officer walked over to the table, put on the headset and picked up the mic.

Yes, this is Dietrich. We are about two kilometers south of the village. …

Yes, we will be ready to launch our raid tomorrow morning. …

Yes, Sir. Over and out.

Lydecker had only heard one half of the conversation, but it was enough for him to realize what the German plans were. He looked at Michelle. She didn't look afraid; instead, she was looking defiant. He didn't want her to do anything foolish. But, he decided he had to take a chance.

When the officer finished his call, Lydecker stood up and faced Michelle. He tugged on her shirt sleeve, gave her a grin and then stroked his own arm and made a sad face. Michelle looked perplexed, but then gave a nod of understanding. She stood up and addressed the officer.

"Sir, Josef need his shirt. Can he go to put it on?"

The officer sighed. "Schmitt, watch the idiot. "Yes, but do it quickly."

Michelle gave Joey a nod and a small push. He headed for the small bedroom, giving Schmitt a smile as he passed him. The German snorted, then leaned against the door jamb and leered at Michelle. Lydecker quickly crossed the room and slid open the window. Henri was crouched between the bed and the wall. He looked calmer than he had when the Krauts had first arrived.

Lydecker leaned over and whispered, "Kraut attack tomorrow morning."

After checking that Schmitt was still looking the other way, he lowered Henri out the window. "Be careful," he whispered as the boy crept along the side of the house and then disappeared into the shadows.

HEY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING? Schmitt yelled.

The lieutenant and Michelle immediately rushed to the room. Lydecker pulled his arm in and shook the rain drops off it.

"He want to know if it still rains. Dat is all," Michelle said as she moved to stand between Lydecker and Schmitt.

"Very well," said the officer. "Get his shirt and return to the other room." Schmitt, close the window.

Henri saw the sentry at the back of the house and snuck past him. It was not the first time in his young life he had evaded the Boche. They had occupied the little village on and off for the last several years. He decided he would head for his home. He moved quickly through the woods and fields. When he reached his front door he looked quickly one last time over his shoulder before opening it enough to slip inside.

Henri, finally. Your mother and I were worried. Are you alright? Where are Michelle and Pvt. Lydecker?

Henri told his parents what had happened, that Michelle and Pvt. Lydecker were still with the Boche although they didn't know he was an American soldier. Then he told them he had to get a message to the Americans.

No, cried Mrs. Rouchelette. I will not allow Henri to go. It is too dangerous. At least we have him safely home. I cannot lose both my children.

Mr. Rouchelette looked at his wife. They both knew they had been very lucky. They had neighbors who had lost their homes and, in some cases, their lives. But now, to risk their son, while their daughter was still in danger, it was asking a lot of a mother.

It is the only hope for Michelle. He must go.

Mrs. Rouchelette cried, but finally relented.

Mr. Rouchelette put his hands on Henri's shoulders. Son, you must be very careful. Do not talk to anyone. Run as fast as you can and find M. LeMay. He's the soldier who speaks French. You remember, you said you met him this morning. Explain in French. It will be easier, yes?

Henri beamed with the confidence of a boy who wasn't old enough to understand the risk he was taking. Yes, Papa.

Mr. Rouchelette turned to his wife. I'll watch the front of the house. You help Henri out the back window.

She and Henri went to his bedroom at the back of the house and slowly opened the window. Henri kissed his mother, slipped out the window and disappeared into the trees at the back of the house.

Go with God, my son, Mrs. Rouchelette whispered as he vanished from sight.

Jankowski was beside himself with joy. Lydecker was AWOL and the sergeant was furious. He knew Lydecker was Saunders' pet, just as he had been 1st Sgt. Walters' pet in Basic, so things couldn't be better as far as he was concerned.

However, he didn't know the sergeant as well as the rest of the squad members. Yes, the sergeant was angry, but they knew he was using that show of anger to hide his concern. Lydecker should have been back hours ago.

"Sarge, he probably got delayed 'cause of the storm," Littlejohn offered.

Saunders just gave him an icy stare, effectively ending the discussion. He walked to the lobby window and absentmindedly fiddled with a cigarette as he stared out into the gathering darkness.

Ending the discussion, that is, except for one Pvt. William G. Kirby, who, since he had been on the receiving end of many more of the NCO's glares than the rest of the squad, had a much higher tolerance for them.

"Sarge, I could…"

"SHUT UP, KIRBY!"

Saunders returned the cigarette to the pack and lay down on the mattress. He pulled out his book, but couldn't concentrate on the words. The rest of the men talked quietly among themselves. Kirby didn't even try to organize a poker game. Doc dumped out the contents of his rucksack and repacked his medical supplies. Caje finished cleaning his rifle and put it back together. Jankowski sat in the corner, smiling as he took it all in.

All of a sudden, the door to the lobby burst open and Henri Rouchelette ran in. The boy bent over and put his hands on his knees, gulping in huge mouthfuls of air. The squad members immediately jumped up and surrounded him.

"What happened?" "Where's Lydecker?" "Is everything alright?" The men all spoke at once.

"Give the kid a chance to catch his breath," said the Sarge. "Caje, ask him what happened to Lydecker."

The boy straightened up and looked at Caje. He took off Lydecker's dog tags that he was wearing around his neck and handed them to the scout. Michelle and Josef have been captured by the Boche.

Henri started talking so fast that Caje had to tell him to start over and slow down. Eventually the whole story was out, including a slightly garbled version of Lydecker's message, 'rautack tomorrow morning.'

Saunders frowned, raked his fingers through his hair and scratched the back of his head. "Rautack?...Caje, does that sound like anything in French?"

"No, Sarge, dat's not French."

"Rautack?...Do you think he means Kraut?" asked Doc.

With that piece of the puzzle, the message made sense to the sergeant. "Thanks, Doc…Kraut attack tomorrow morning…Henri, who's Mr. Boulois?"

"He work for papa. De Boche, dey kill him." Then he added, Mr. Boulois' little house is not too far from us.

The Cajun gave Saunders the extra information.

"Caje, find out the layout of the house."

Once Saunders had that, he turned to his men. "I'm gonna talk to the lieutenant. Be ready to move out in fifteen minutes. Caje, you an' Henri come with me."

The sergeant led the way over to the CP. He explained what had happened and then told the lieutenant Lydecker's message.

"Henri, how many German…er, Boche soldiers are there?" Hanley asked.

Henri conferred with Caje.

"Lieutenant, he said he heard de officer gave orders to five men in de house and he saw one sentry at de back of de house and one more on his way here, but he doesn't know how many more dere were," the scout replied.

The lieutenant nodded. "Henri, can you show us on a map where Mr. Boulois' house is? Caje, talk to him in French and help him with the map."

"Yes, Sir"

Henri stood on a crate and looked at the map the lieutenant spread out over his makeshift desk. Caje pointed out the village and the various roads out of the village. Henri picked out one of them and ran his finger down that road to a turnoff. He said the family farm was at the end of that turnoff.

Then Caje asked him about Mr. Boulois' house. Henri said there was no road, only paths. He asked Caje for a pencil. He made a little drawing of his home on the map and then added the path to the Boulois house. He drew another line to indicate where another path from that house met the road out of the village. He told the soldiers he had seen a Kraut hiding at that junction, but he had come through the woods on the other side of the road to avoid him.

"Sergeant, I think we should pay a call on the Boulois residence."

"I agree, Lieutenant"

Lt. Hanley called Cpt. Jampel at King Company HQ, outlined the situation and received approval to launch an attack.

"BROCK…," he yelled.

Brockmeyer appeared behind him before he could finish. "Yes, Sir."

"Find Sgts. Adams and Bates, and Cpl. Parker."

"Yes, Sir." Brockmeyer hurried out the door.

"Caje, you and Henri stay here in case a question comes up."

When the three other squad leaders arrived, Lt. Hanley explained the situation. Adams and Bates looked at each other and then over at Saunders. The NCOs knew they would be vulnerable, especially if the attack came after patrols were sent out in the morning.

"So," continued the lieutenant, "we're going to surprise them tonight. Bates, I'll be with your squad. We'll travel down this path," he indicated on the map, "toward the house where they're camped for the night. Saunders will take First Squad and advance toward the house along this path." Again, he traced the route out on the map. "We'll catch them in a pincers and we'll have the advantage of surprise and good cover. Any questions so far?"

"Lieutenant, I want to get Lydecker and the girl out before we attack," Saunders stated.

Hanley looked at Saunders. "Okay. I'll give you an hour's head start. It should only take Bates and me forty-five minutes to get into position. We'll set the attack for an hour and forty-five minutes from when we leave the CP. I don't want to have to wait any longer than that or we might lose the element of surprise. Adams, you're in charge here. Your squad and Parker's weapons squad will hold this village."

Adams looked at the lieutenant and said, "Maybe you should call in artillery."

"The Krauts have planted themselves too close to our own lines. We'd have too many casualties from our own shelling. And, the rest of the line is as thin as we are, so we can't get reinforcements in time. This one, gentlemen, is on us."

The four NCOs nodded and, after synchronizing their watches, each left to prepare for the engagement ahead.

Adams and Parker walked outside and headed for the church. It was the only stone structure in the village, so it would be the strongest defensive position. All of the walls were still standing although there was no roof.

Adams told Parker to set up his weapons squad there. Then he checked in with the men on sentry duty. He told them they were to hold their positions unless they received orders to fall back. If they did, they should high-tail it to the church. His mind ran to the story of the Alamo. That was a church, too.

Finally, he returned to the CP and, with Brockmeyer's help, moved the radio and the few maps and papers the lieutenant had to the church. The corporal made sure the radio was working before he rejoined Hanley.

As Caje, Saunders and Henri walked back to the inn, the NCO explained the plan he had in mind to the Cajun.

"Do you think you can do it?" he asked his scout.

"It will depend on de sentries. If I can get dem to go along, den I have a chance. If not…"

"If not, Lydecker an' Michelle probably don't have a chance either."

Caje left the sergeant, telling him he would return to the inn in a few minutes, ready to go.

"Henri, I'm gonna need you to lead me an' my men back to your house the way you came. Can you do that?"

"Oui, Sergeant. This I do."

The rest of the squad was ready to move out. When Caje returned, he stuffed some clothing and a pair of shoes into his knapsack and slipped it over his shoulders. As the squad headed out of the village, Hanley was on the corner, watching them go.

"Good luck, Sergeant."

"Same to you, Lieutenant."

An hour later Sgt. Bates had Second Squad assembled in the village square.

"Alright, settle down. The lieutenant has a few things to say before we leave," the sergeant announced.

"Men, this mission depends on surprise. We might be outnumbered, so if the Krauts have time to prepare, it could go badly for us. Once we leave here I want absolute silence. No talking for any reason. We'll approach to within 100 yards of the Krauts and hold there until I signal you to move up. Then, once we're in position, wait for me to open fire. I don't want anyone to be trigger-happy. Are there any questions?"

The men looked at each other and shook their heads.

"Sergeant, you and your scout take care of the guard at the path. I'll be right behind you with the rest of the men."

When they were about 200 yards from where Hanley thought the path should intersect the road, he signaled for the squad to halt. He moved cautiously ahead until he saw Bates and his scout. When the sergeant signaled 'all clear,' Hanley motioned to the rest of the men to move up to the beginning of the path.

The lieutenant sent Bates and his scout ahead again. They carefully moved down the path to within about 100 yards of where they thought the Germans were camped. Then they slowly and cautiously moved forward until they could see the clearing and the house, and pick out the sentries. Bates left his scout and returned to the lieutenant. He held up two fingers, indicating two sentries. Hanley nodded.

The lieutenant checked his watch. He figured he would have his men in their holding position with ten minutes to spare before the attack was scheduled to commence. He looked at Bates and gave the signal to move out. The men crept single file, widely spaced out, down the path. Each man took care, placing each footfall and holding each branch as he passed so that there was no sound of his passing. When Hanley had his men in position, he checked his watch again. Now, it was up to Saunders and First Squad.

Henri whispered that his house was just beyond the next group of trees. Saunders halted the squad and signaled for them to take cover. The men faded into the woods. The boy then continued on. The house was quiet; there were no visible lights. Henri led Saunders and Caje around to the back. The sergeant slide the bedroom window open and the scout boosted the boy up so he could crawl back into the house. He was met by his parents who gratefully pulled the boy into their arms and gave him hugs and kisses. Saunders indicated to the family that they must be quiet, and then he and Caje climbed in through the window.

The family and the Americans moved into the main room of the house where they could watch the path. In the darkness, Saunders talked quietly with the parents and, with Caje's help, explained their part in the little charade that was going to take place.

Satisfied that they understood, the two soldiers returned to the bedroom. The NCO looked at the scout one last time. Caje nodded. He took off his uniform and dressed as a Frenchman in the clothes he had picked up in the village. He stuffed his uniform, boots and helmet into the knapsack.

Caje slipped back out the window and Saunders handed the scout his gear before he joined him on the ground outside the house. The two men quietly returned to the rest of the squad. Saunders took Caje's bayonet, but gave the Cajun's rifle to Littlejohn and knapsack and web belt to Doc to carry. The NCO held up his open left hand to indicate five minutes, then he silently slipped away to position himself near the path. He would be Caje's insurance in case the plan started to fall apart.

The scout waited five minutes, took a deep breath and stood up. He gave a quick look at his squad mates, grinned at Kirby, and started walking toward the house, shouting as he approached. Saunders didn't know if there were any Kraut sentries near the Rouchelette house, but if there were, he wanted them to hear the commotion and know that the Cajun was coming.

ROUCHELETTE, ROUCHELETTE, HAVE YOU SEEN MY BROTHER, JOSEF? HE HAS NOT RETURNED HOME! I'M WORRIED ABOUT HIM!

Caje pounded on the door. ROUCHELETTE, ROUCHELETTE, GET OUT OF BED AND OPEN THE DOOR!

After a pause, the door opened and Mr. Rouchelette appeared in his night shirt, carrying a candle. LeMay, what is all this racket? You have woken my family.

MY BROTHER, JOSEF, HAS NOT COME HOME! HAVE YOU SEEN HIM?

Mrs. Rouchelette appeared at the door, wearing her nightgown with a shawl over her shoulders. M. LeMay, I saw Josef earlier today. He told me he was staying with M. Boulois tonight.

HE'S WITH BOULOIS! I'LL BOX HIS EARS! HE KNOWS WE MUST CUT DOWN TREES TO CLEAR A FIELD TOMORROW.

We can't help you. The Rouchelettes backed into the house and slammed the door.

Caje was still sputtering loudly as he headed down the path. It wasn't long before a sentry stepped out of the shadows, holding his rifle across his chest. Caje started to walk toward the guard. Saunders was crouched, ready to spring and plunge the bayonet into the Kraut's back if his rifle should begin to move into firing position. The Kraut spoke to Caje in very bad French.

Halt or I'll shoot.

Caje looked surprised. I'm only looking for my brother. I need him to help me tomorrow. He's with Boulois. I'll get him and be on my way.

You cannot proceed.

Caje persisted in a louder and louder voice. The Kraut was flustered. He knew Lt. Dietrich wanted to keep their presence in the area a secret. He wanted to shoot this noisy Frenchman, but the sound of the shot might attract attention. If he turned the Frenchman away, he would tell others of their presence.

After a few moments of hesitation, he said, Alright, walk down this path, but keep your voice down.

The Kraut followed Caje. Saunders moved quietly behind them, keeping the bayonet ready, should the need arise.

Back by the Rouchelette house, the rest of the squad had watched the first scene play out. Now, they also began to slowly and carefully move down the path.

When Boulois' house was in sight, Caje began to speak more loudly, drawing the attention of all the Kraut soldiers and the other sentries. Saunders hesitated. He didn't want to leave Caje with no protection, but if, at this point, the guard or any of the soldiers decided to kill him, there was little he could do to help the scout. So, he left his position slightly behind the guard and quietly moved into the woods.

The NCO circled around behind the sentry at the back of the house. The man's attention was focused on Caje as Saunders crept up behind him. In one swift motion, he put his left arm around the sentry's throat and, with his right, he plunged the bayonet into the man's belly with an upward thrust. The Kraut sagged in his arms and the sergeant lowered him to the ground.

Saunders moved quickly to the back of the house, positioning himself beside the window of the little bedroom. He checked his watch. Time was running out.

Caje was now yelling and waving his arms. WHERE IS THAT WORTHLESS BOY? I SEND HIM OUT TO DO A JOB AND HE WANDERS OFF!

The door to the house opened, framing the officer in the light.

Wagner, what's going on? Who is this man.

Sir, this is Mr. LeMay, the brother of the boy you have inside. He was making a scene, so I brought him here. I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't know what else to do.

Before the lieutenant could answer, Caje shouted, OH, YOU CANNOT HIDE FROM ME! WHERE ARE YOU, YOU WORTHLESS BOY? and stormed past the officer into the house, much to the astonishment of the gathered soldiers.

Lydecker jumped up and gaped at Caje, his eyes enormous with surprise and his mouth hanging open, looking very much like the simpleton Michelle had told the Germans he was. The lieutenant and Wagner followed Caje into the room, but the scout ignored them and continued to yell at Lydecker.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING AT BOULOIS' HOUSE? I SENT YOU OUT TO GATHER KINDLING. YOU ARE LAZY AND WORTHLESS! IF YOU WERE NOT MY BROTHER, I WOULD NOT EVEN BOTHER WITH YOU!

Michelle immediately recognized the scout and assumed he was there to rescue them, so she knew she had to play along.

Caje stepped up to Lydecker and slapped him hard enough that the young soldier lost his balance.

The Germans looked on as Wagner made a rough translation of the angry brother's words. This was a pleasant diversion from the usual alternatives of a soldier's live, monotony or terror.

Caje grabbed Lydecker, wrapping his fists in the shirt and pulled him up in front of his chest.

Michelle got between the two 'brothers.' Please, it is my fault. Don't hurt Josef.

Caje shoved Joey into the little bedroom. GET YOUR OWN CLOTHES ON! and he slammed the door.

His clothes are wet…I'll gather them up for him to carry home. Michelle said as she quickly followed Joey into the little room.

Lydecker tried to gather his wits. He signaled for Michelle to be quiet as he retrieved his rifle, helmet, web belt and boots. But, he didn't know what he was supposed to do. Should he rush from the room and try to kill as many Krauts as he could before he and Caje were gunned down? That didn't make sense. Why would Caje have sacrificed himself to die along with Lydecker, for Lydecker knew that before the Germans moved out in the morning, both he and Michelle would be killed.

At that moment, like a specter, he saw the sergeant appear in the window. Saunders signaled him to open the window. Joey helped Michelle to climb out and then he passed Saunders his gear before slipping out to join the sergeant on the ground.

Back in the main room, Caje continued to pace the room and rant about his worthless brother. After a few moments, he moved toward the bedroom door.

WHAT IS TAKING YOU SO LONG? CAN'T YOU DO ANYTHING RIGHT?

Caje opened the door and stepped into the room. He didn't pause for an instant, but moved quickly to the open window. He was halfway out when shooting broke out all around the front and sides of the house. The sergeant grabbed his arm and yanked him the rest of the way. The scout fell to the ground beside Lydecker and Saunders, giving them both a grin.

The quiet night was exploding with gunfire and shouts. German soldiers dove for their weapons as the Americans pressed forward with their attack. Although taken by surprise, the Krauts were well disciplined and experienced fighters who were not going to give up easily. The German officer called to his men to retreat into the house where he planned to make his stand.

Saunders signaled Caje and Lydecker to move back into the woods. Caje put his arm around Michelle and he and Lydecker crouched and ran for cover. The sergeant drew a grenade out of his field jacket and pulled the pin. He tossed it in the open window and threw himself to the ground. The grenade bounced through the open bedroom door before exploding.

Lt. Hanley's men and the rest of First Squad surged forward and within a few minutes only token return gunfire could be heard.

The lieutenant yelled, "HOLD YOUR FIRE! Brockmeyer, tell them to surrender!"

Brockmeyer called to the remaining Krauts, YOU CANNOT WIN. PUT YOUR WEAPONS DOWN AND COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS RAISED.

There was silence for a few moments, and then two Germans cautiously stood up with their hands clasped behind their helmets. Hanley sent men forward to search the prisoners and Doc to check the wounded. Sgt. Bates joined the medic. He quickly assessed the casualties and reported to the lieutenant.

"Sir, we lost one man, Benson, and two more wounded, but not seriously. There are three wounded Krauts. All the rest are dead."

"Alright, Sergeant. Have the men rig up litters for those who can't walk. The Kraut prisoners can help to carry them."

"Yes, Sir."

Hanley surveyed the scene before walking to the side of the house where he saw First Squad gathered. They were laughing and teasing Caje about his performance, but they quieted down as the lieutenant approached. Saunders stepped forward to meet him.

"Well, Sergeant, I see you were successful with your rescue mission."

"Yes, Lieutenant, although the timing was a little close."

Hanley turned to Caje. "Soldier," he said with a grin, "you're out of uniform."

"Yes, Sir. I'll take care of dat right away." Caje spied Doc and went to pick up his knapsack. Within a few moments he was back in uniform.

Next the lieutenant turned to Lydecker. The young soldier, also in ill-fitting French garb, untied boots, and holding his helmet and rifle, stood at attention. Hanley suppressed his urge to laugh out loud. Instead, he sternly said, "Soldier, you're out of uniform too." He turned to Saunders, "Wasn't this man supposed to be back before dark?"

"Yes, Sir, by 1700," Saunders replied with no trace of emotion.

Hanley turned back to Lydecker, "…and AWOL as well."

The rest of the squad, except for Jankowski, looked away to keep from laughing. Jankowski was grinning because he thought the lieutenant was going to throw the book at the young private.

"Yes, Sir, no excuses, Sir," Lydecker responded seriously. At this point he didn't care if he ended up in the stockade or had to dig latrines for the rest of the war. He was just glad to be safely back with the rest of the squad.

"Very well…Don't let it happen again." Lt. Hanley turned around with a big grin on his face as most of the men of First Squad burst out laughing.

Jankowski, who stood off to the side, could only scowl. Things hadn't worked out the way he had hoped.

Saunders grinned. He reached up and tousled Lydecker's hair. "Lydecker, see if you can find your uniform…and I think these," he held out Joey's dog tags, "belong to you."

Lydecker worked his way through the rubble to the small bedroom. He came out a few minutes later wearing his still wet uniform. He also had Michelle's dress and shoes. She gave him a sweet smile as he handed them to her.

Littlejohn took off his field jacket and handed it to Lydecker. "Put this on, Joey. I'm going cold just looking at you."

The jacket hung like a tent on the young soldier, but he rolled up the sleeves and put on his web belt, cinching it up so he looked half-way presentable.

"Thanks, Littlejohn."

"Alright, saddle up. Nelson an' Littlejohn, escort Miss Rouchelette back to her home."

The three started down the path, but Lydecker called to them to wait. He uncinched his web belt and reached into his field jacket pocket, pulling out the second chocolate bar. "Tell Henri thanks," he said as he handed it to Michelle.

The two squads headed for home, with Caje walking beside Lydecker. He put his arm around his 'brother's' shoulder. "I hope I didn't slap you too hard. I wanted to make it convincing."

Joey reached up and rubbed the side of his still smarting face. "Oh, trust me, it was convincing."

"Hey, Caje, I heard ya an' ya coulda won an Academy Award for that performance," Kirby chuckled as he joined his two comrades.

The laughter and good-natured ribbing continued all of the way back to the village.

It was almost midnight before the two squads from Second Platoon returned. The men guarding the village had held their assigned positions at the church for several hours. They had heard the firing from the skirmish followed by the quiet of the French night, but didn't know whether to expect friend or foe. The tension was broken when Lt. Hanley called out the sign and Sgt. Adams gave the countersign.

Lt. Hanley addressed the platoon, "Men, you all did a good job tonight. Brockmeyer, take charge of getting the wounded to the aid station and the prisoners to S-2 for interrogation. NCOs, in the CP in five minutes. The rest of you, dismissed."

Back in the CP, Hanley called in to Company HQ and reported on the success of the mission. After receiving his orders for the following day, he signed off. He pulled a half full bottle of whiskey from his duffel bag and scrounged around the CP for cups. When the NCOs entered, they passed the bottle around, each pouring a shot.

"Good job. That was close. Cpt. Jampel just told me we're moving up tomorrow. If those Krauts had been behind us, they could have done a lot of damage."

The men drank in silence until Sgt. Bates said, "I'll bet that's one date Lydecker won't forget," which made them all laugh.

Once they had finished, Hanley gave the orders for the morning, "Have your squads ready to move out at 0700."

Saunders had First Squad packed up and ready to go by 0645. Lydecker's uniform was dry and he returned Littlejohn's field jacket.

"Thanks again, Littlejohn. Caje, what should Ah do with these clothes?"

"Just leave dem here, Joey. Someone who needs dem will pick dem up."

"Hey, Joey, did ya have time for any kissin' before the Krauts arrived?" Kirby asked with a snide little laugh.

Lydecker's face turned beet red. "She's a nice girl. Nothing happened," he sputtered.

"Yeah, sure, kid. Is that the story you'd tell her ol' man?"

"Knock it off, Kirby," said Littlejohn

"Oh, you just keep out of it, ya big moose."

"Alright, knock it off. If you're ready to go, haul your duffel bag out to the truck. Make sure you've got a basic load of ammo an' rations for today. Now move it!" growled the sergeant.

At 0700 the squad formed up and began walking. Second Platoon was going to move forward as the American lines were straightened. When the squad turned the corner to head out of the village, they saw Michelle and her family waiting for them.

"Sergeant, could Ah go and say good-bye?" Lydecker asked.

"Yeah, but make it quick."

The men stopped and gathered on either side of their sergeant. Saunders pushed his helmet back on his head as he watched the young private jog over to the waiting girl. Michelle had taken a few steps forward, away from her family.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Yeah, and y'all?"

"I am fine. We are all fine. Did your sergeant make you trouble?"

"Nah, everything's okay. How about your parents?"

"Dey were happy for me and Henri to be safe."

Lt. Hanley approached First Squad. "Sgt. Saunders, what's the holdup? The rest of the platoon is moving forward."

Saunders looked at the lieutenant, "We're just waiting for Lydecker, Sir." He turned and yelled, "LYDECKER, GET A MOVE ON."

Lydecker looked over his shoulder at the gang of soldiers staring at them. He turned back to Michelle. "Would you mind if Ah kissed you goodbye?" he shyly asked.

She smiled, "No, not at all."

Lydecker took off his helmet and tucked it under his left arm. He reached up with his right hand to gently touch Michelle's arm and then, turning his head slightly, he kissed her softly, his lips barely grazing hers.

"Oh, mon Dieu," she said. "Dat will not do."

Michelle put her arms around his neck and gave him a long and passionate kiss. Lydecker's helmet fell to the ground as he reached up and pulled her close to him. The rest of the convoy passing by came to a halt to watch the two young people. When they pulled apart, they did so to the whoops and hollers, whistles and applause of an appreciative crowd.

"ALL RIGHT, SHOW'S OVER. MOVE ALONG!" yelled the lieutenant.

Lydecker smiled at Michelle as he stooped to pick up his helmet. "Take care of yourself," he said.

As he turned to go, she touched his arm and softly said, "You too, Josef."

Wait, wait, Pvt. Lydecker. This is for you and your friends. Mrs. Rouchelette rushed forward and handed Lydecker a loaf of bread wrapped in a piece of cloth and still warm from the oven.

"Momma make dis morning. We want for you to like it. Adieu, mon ami."

Lydecker took the offered bread. "Merci," he said to Mrs. Rouchelette, remembering Caje's French lesson. He gave Michelle one last look before jogging back to join his comrades.

"Hey, Joey, that was some kiss!" Billy exclaimed.

Lydecker blushed.

"Whacha got there?" asked Kirby, reaching in to poke at the wrapped parcel.

"It's bread an' it's still warm."

"Let me smell it. Nothing smells as good as fresh baked bread," Littlejohn said, holding the loaf and closing his eyes as he drew in a big breath. "Reminds me of the bread my Ma makes." He reluctantly handed the loaf back to Joey.

Lydecker pulled off a chunk and passed the loaf on to Doc. It quickly circulated through the entire squad.

Saunders watched his squad as they laughed and shared the bread. "Alright, saddle up. Caje, take the point. Kirby, the rear. Move out."

*Historical Note: How Green Was My Valley by Richard Llewellyn. ASE book H-239 was shipped to Army and Navy distribution points in April 1944.

The ASE (the Armed Service Edition) supplied 50-77,000 copies each of about thirty different paperback-type books every month for service members at no cost to them beginning in September 1943 through June 1947. Titles ranged from contemporary fiction to historical novels, mysteries, books of humor and westerns as well as numerous other genres. The books were specially designed to fit in a breast or hip pocket and were light-weight. These books were shipped to distribution points selected by the Army and Navy and from there made their way onto ships leaving port, small islands in the Pacific, hospitals, and troops stationed on the front lines throughout the ETO. Sources: When Books Went to War by Molly Guptill Manning and Pvt. James G. Lawrence (the author's father), who served in the ETO.