Hey guys! I know it's been a while. School decided to give me a lot of stuff to work on this term but I managed to finally do another chapter!
It seems a little different to me. Maybe not to you but I think it's different from what I have written before. This could be for a couple reasons:
A: it has been way to long since I have written anything
B: I have seen The Departed and that has changed me somehow
C: I read the early draft of the Saving Private Ryan script (Which was really different and kinda messed up) and it may have affected how I typed this.
Whatever though. Hope you enjoy!
Chapter Seven: Ryan
The squad walked silently through a field. No one had said a word since the day before. They had dug their foxholes silently and proceeded to sleep, or at least try to. Even Jackson had issues keeping his eyes shut.
Up front, Mellish began to whisper a song. It was one he had heard before, a favorite amongst men during depressing times. He tried to tune it out.
His mind began to wander. They would be reaching Ramelle soon, where Ryan should be. Holton swore in disgust. He hoped Ryan was an asshole just so he'd have an excuse to punch him. It did not matter that he did not know they were coming. Holton could not punch the Army Chief of Staff so he'd have to set his sights lower.
Something began to hum.
This mission was going to get him killed, he knew it. 'Immortal' or not, suicide missions never had a happy ending. He thought about his father, a frail old man with only a future daughter-in-law to comfort him. Ryan knew nothing of loss.
The humming got louder and attracted Holton's attention. He began to turn in its direction.
Miller stopped him. "Halftrack! Cover!"
The squad instantly dropped in the grass. It was tall enough to hide them but just barely. Holton wished he was not so big.
They watched the halftrack crawl across the field. A couple Germans sat on top keeping a lookout for anything. Any closer and they might just see them.
An explosion went off and flames ripped through the halftrack, knocking the Germans off, dead. The halftrack, though, continued to move though much slower. Another explosion stopped it in its tracks. The squad sat up and shot at any who tried to escape. Holton watched Upham squirm below as everything took place.
He placed a hand on the corporal, who jumped. "You alright?"
"Ye…yes." Holton helped him up as the squad approached the charred vehicle. Miller started toward the other side where shots could be heard.
Jackson and Mellish looked the halftrack over. Mellish butted it slightly with his rifle. A piece of it fell off rather easily.
"It's German, alright." Jackson said as he began to climb on top of it.
"101st coming out!"
Holton walked around to see three paratroopers stand up from the grass. One carried a bazooka which, he assumed, must have taken out the halftrack.
The highest ranking paratrooper, a corporal, stepped forward. "That was a recon element, second SS. We've been expecting a probe, that must have been it." He looked at the squad. With the exception of Jackson, the rest were gathered just in front of the halftrack. "Corporal Henderson. Easy Company. 501st."
The one with the bazooka came closer. "Ryan, first of the 506th."
Ryan?
"PFC Toynbe, 3rd of the 506th."
James Francis…?
Miller stared at the young paratrooper. "James Francis Ryan?"
"Yes, sir. How'd you guess that?"
Holton nearly dropped his rifle.
The group walked through the small town of Ramelle or, at least, what was left of it. All the windows seemed blown out and every building had at least one wall missing. Most did not seem to have a roof either. Pieces of the buildings littered the streets in every direction and even blocked a few. There would be a random chair or bed frame every couple feet. The place had gone to hell and back.
Holton lingered in the rear, taking in the dismal scene. It all seemed unreal, a town being smashed to bits like this. He had seen it before but it never failed to strike him dumb.
Henderson turned to the group. "Small unit action. They came in and beat the hell out of us with 88s. Tell you what, sir, if you're our relief I'm gonna file a complaint."
Miller nodded. "I wouldn't blame you."
As Holton traced the outline of one of the more devastated buildings, his eyes fell upon Ryan. He had wanted to hate him, had wanted to walk over and tear him a new one but…now it changed. Ryan was just a kid, some naïve kid who probably did not know much about anything, including the condition of his brothers. Right now, he thinks they are alive and will see them again when this war is over. There is only one problem with this fantasy of his: the brothers are dead…and they are about to tell him that. Holton wanted to hate him. Hell, he really wanted to hate him, but he could not.
Guess he would have to punch the Army Chief of Staff.
"We're here for him." Miller said. "Ryan."
The paratrooper looked up, confused, as all eyes turned toward him. "Me, sir?"
Holton rejoined the group as Miller and Ryan headed to the bridge.
"Can I wring his neck?" Reiben whispered through clenched teeth.
"Sorry Reiben can't give you the pleasure of that." Holton replied looking at the river.
"And why the hell not?"
"He's the mission. We have to bring him home."
"Yeah, well last time I checked you weren't so keen on bringing him back either."
"Things have changed." Holton said turning around. "I mean, c'mon, look at him."
Jackson looked up from his rifle. "He's got a point, Reiben. Ryan's just a kid."
"Look, I don't give a shit if he looks like baby fucking New Year; we lost Wade and Caparzo coming after this guy. Two guys for one. Do the math; he doesn't deserve to go back."
Holton sighed. He partially agreed but had given up on fighting it.
"Well, orders are orders, Reiben. You feel like disobeying them? Fine. I'm sure Sarge has no problems relieving you of your duty." Holton motioned toward Horvath's direction. He, Mellish and Upham were a few yards away watching Miller and Ryan. "And this time we're not going to be there to save your sorry ass."
That shut Reiben up. He walked a few paces away and sat on some sandbags.
"Little harsh, weren't you?" Jackson took off his helmet.
"The truth hurts, Jackson. Besides, I'm sick of his attitude."
"Ryan brings out the worst in people."
"Yep."
Holton and Jackson watched the conversation on the bridge. They saw Ryan stumble slightly and grow pale.
He knew.
Miller turned back to the group. "Corporal Henderson, I don't mean to leave you even more short-handed but we have to take him back. Any communication about when you're going to be relieved up here?"
"Sir, there's no way to tell. We have no idea what's happening south of us."
Ryan took his eyes off the ground and his skin seemed to regain some color. "I have my orders, too, sir. They don't include me abandoning my post."
Miller looked back at Ryan. "I understand but this changes things."
"I don't see that it does, sir."
Holton snorted. "Figures we get a foolhardy one."
Henderson seemed concerned. "Sir, our orders are to hold this bridge at all costs. Our planes in the 82nd have taken out every bridge across the Merderet River with the exception of two: one at Valognes and this one here. We let the Germans take them, we'll lose our foothold and have to displace."
"Corporal, we're just here for Ryan." Horvath said stepping into the conversation. "We're not asking all of you to leave."
Ryan looked stunned. He could not believe what he was hearing. "Sir, I can't leave until at least reinforcements-″
Miller cut him off. "You got three minutes to gather your gear."
"Sir, what about them? There's barely enough-″
"Hey asshole!" This time it was Reiben. "Two of our guys already died trying to find you, all right?"
Ryan looked at Miller who merely nodded. He turned back. "What were their names?"
"Irwin Wade and Adrian Caparzo." Mellish replied.
"Wade and…?"
Holton crossed his arms. "Adrian Caparzo. Big guy, loved cigarettes."
Ryan turned from the group as though considering. Holton relaxed slightly. Maybe they would be able to get out of here after all.
"It doesn't make any sense, sir. Why? Why do I deserve to go? Why not any of these guys? They all fought just as hard as me!"
Maybe not.
Miller sighed. He was trying hard not to yell at the stubborn private. "Is that what they're supposed to tell your mother when they send her another folded American flag?"
"Tell her that when you found me, I was here with the only brothers I have left, and that there's no way I was going to desert them. I think she'll understand that." He began to walk over to the other paratroopers. "There's no way I'm leaving this bridge." Ryan sat down near some sandbags and put his head down. Nothing was going to move him now. His fellow paratroopers gathered around him trying to offer some comfort.
Holton thought Miller would explode or, at least, appear angry. That did not happen. The Captain simply nodded again, considering all the boy had said.
Jackson and Holton leaned against the bridge watching the paratrooper grieve his brothers. Reiben and Mellish were some ways off probably ranting about how they should have never come, though it was likely Reiben doing most of it. Miller and Horvath had walked to the other side of the bridge a while back and were still there, talking. Upham just stood back and eyed everyone nervously. He did not know what to expect from the two groups now.
Holton had taken off his helmet. He tried to light a cigarette with a lighter that was long dead.
"Maybe you should talk to him." Jackson said looking over at the sergeant.
Holton gave up and tossed the cigarette aside. "The Captain couldn't even get through to him. What makes you think that I'll do any better?"
"I don't know. Why don't you come up with one of those big, inspiring speeches I heard you give before? That seems to work."
"Maybe I don't want to."
"Whatever happened to 'he's the mission, we have to bring him home?'"
"I lied."
Jackson nodded, thinking. "Alright, plan B. You're a big guy. You can just waltz over there and drag his ass back to the beach."
Holton smiled. "I dunno, Jackson, I might lose something important along the way."
"Plan C: Reiben can beat him up first and then you can drag his ass back to the beach." The two laughed a little but it did not last long.
Holton sighed. "Too bad we can't actually do that." He paused looking at the paratrooper. The Germans could not be far away and there would be no way to stop them. They would come down on the city with several tanks and probably every type of weapon they had. Even with a decent sized group, the fight would be hard, if not hopeless.
"Are you willing to die for him, Jackson?" His friend took a while to reply.
He sighed as well. "I'm not willing to die for a lost cause." Holton took that as a 'no.'
"Right then…" Holton put down his rifle and headed toward the gathered paratroopers. They parted like the Red Sea as he walked past. The sergeant was an intimidating guy. He was a couple inches taller than most of them at least, and much stronger. That is what he believed made him a good leader, no one wanted to fight him.
Holton sat across from the grieving paratrooper and took a moment to think. He was never good at the whole comforting thing; he mostly tried to avoid that with his men. Of course, he was not here to comfort but to convince.
"We really need to get you back, Ryan."
Great beginning to your inspiring speech. Holton thought to himself.
The private looked up at him and sniffed. It was obvious he had been crying. "Did you not hear a thing I said back there?"
"I heard it and understand but that does not make a difference. Try to understand where we're coming from, private."
Ryan was silent a moment. "You're trying to finish a mission that's a little harder than you bargained for. You lost a couple guys along the way and don't want them to die for nothing. But here's what you need to understand: I've got a mission too. We've got to protect this bridge. A lot of guys have died for this and I am not about to let them die for nothing either." While his logic seemed sound, his stubbornness was starting to get to Holton.
"Let me ask you something: what have you guys got?" The irritation in his voice was rising. "A couple machine guns, a bazooka, mortar rounds, maybe?" Ryan shook his head. "Okay, no mortars. What do the Germans have? Armor certainly, every big gun imaginable and, most importantly, reinforcements."
"What do you expect us to do? Just drop everything and give the bridge to the Germans?" Ryan was equally irritated. The best that this argument could end in was a stalemate. Both sides had a good point and neither was going to back down.
"I see you guys got the bridge wired. Why don't you just blow it up? Problem solved. Germans don't get it and we can get you home."
Another paratrooper joined the argument. "We can't do that, sergeant. Blowing up the bridge is a last resort."
"How is anyone going to know? Stay here, you'll just end up blowing it up anyway minus a few men."
"Is that how we're supposed to do it?" Ryan asked. "When times get hard, run away and make it more difficult for your side to get any closer to victory? We need this bridge."
"Look, you don't understand-″ Holton tried to explain himself but Ryan jumped up from his seat and cut him off.
"What's there to understand?" Ryan's voice was filled with anger. He was sick of having to explain himself to everyone. "Get a mission, complete it. This one seems to be a little more important than bringing me home. Then again, I don't understand because I'm dumb, right? Well, if I'm so dumb, why should I care that you're here? Why should I care that-″
Holton now leapt up from his seat. "Because at least someone came for you!" His voice was loud and echoed over the entire town. Any conversations that had been occurring ceased. Even Miller and Horvath, on the other side of the bridge, looked in Holton's direction.
Ryan staggered back a bit. The sergeant's actions had taken him by surprise, even scared him a little.
"You're not the only one who's lost brothers!" Holton could not control his anger now. He was doing all he could not to punch Ryan. For a long time, he had bottled up all these emotions and now he was about to take it out on the private. "Lost one in Guadalcanal and another in Sicily. I've got a sister but, hell, London gets bombed so much let's just assume she's dead. Maybe she's not but when I die, you think anyone's gonna come looking for her?" He paused, waiting for any kind of reply from Ryan. The paratrooper shook his head slightly. "There have been a million guys like you but the Army decided that you're the lucky one. I've never cared for this mission but I'm going to do it and I'm telling you now I am not going to die for a stupid, little private who doesn't give a shit."
Holton walked closer to Ryan and spoke low so only he could hear. "When you get back, how 'bout you go visit my dad and tell him why none of his sons are coming home…even better yet, maybe we'll both die, then our parents can grieve all seven of us together."
Without another sound, Holton walked away from the group toward the destroyed buildings. He needed to be alone, away from everything and everyone…especially Ryan.
During the argument, Reiben had gravitated toward Jackson. He now stood, open-mouthed, completely surprised by what he just saw. Jackson, on the other hand, looked calm as usual and seemed unaffected by Holton's actions. He looked at Reiben who seemed ready to say something.
"Reiben, you say a word and I will permanently shut that mouth of yours."
Well, there it is. I'll update soon. Happy Easter!