Chapter 10

No one was saying anything but Chief knew this size of landing was too big for just a covert operation to annoy the enemy. This operation and the bombing along the shore had to be the start of an invasion. That was good, he thought. We'll be able to get to a radio and arrange pick up. Then he envisioned all the ships loaded with men approaching the shore. Everything was coming this way, not going back. They could still be stuck here but at least Command could be notified that they were safe. Then another thought. What if they failed, the Germans fought back and won. They would all be taken prisoner. Well, he thought, it's not as if they had never escaped before.

A command post was set up and the men were divided into two groups, one went north and the other south. Chief stayed by Garrison's side listening and guiding him. Someone tried separating them but Chief put an end to that. "He's no good to you. He's stone deaf."

"He can still fire a weapon an' we need all the trigger fingers we got so he goes."

"I'm his ears so I go with him."

"Good enough. Follow the Sergeant over there."

For the next several hours Chief shadowed the Lieutenant. He could see the man's frustration at not being able to hear the commands or partake in the camaraderie. The soldiers' moral was good, their spirits were high even though Chief could see their worries about the upcoming action. Spurring them on was the sounds of the gun battle coming from the beach. They approached the town of Audouville-la-Hubert, cleared it of enemy soldiers then dug in. The cloud cover, complete when dawn arrived, began to lift as they heard the fighting at the beach intensify. Two hours later they saw the enemy began to advance on their position, from the beach. A low cheer went up when they realized the enemy was not advancing on them, they were retreating from their position on the beach as the Allies began pushing inland.

Three and a half hours later the fight was over and they had made contact with the First Battalion of the Eighth Infantry. The Invasion had landed and the Allies had a solid foot in France.

"That was some damn fine shootin'. Where you from? An' how come you're not in uniform?" With the surrender of the last of the German soldiers the Allied soldiers were checking for stragglers and wounded.

"Long story," said Chief as he moved off in hopes of loosing his inquisitor, a young private.

"Gimme the short version." He was not giving up.

Chief was tired, he had not had a good nights sleep in, he couldn't remember when. He also knew that when the fighting rush ended he was going to be in bad shape. He was also frustrated in his inability to get Garrison back to England. Actor would have had him safely back long before now. With all this on his mind he didn't care what happened, he just said it. "Army wouldn't take me."

"How come? You don't need glasses, not with that shootin' So how come they wouldn't let you join up?"

Chief saw Garrison standing talking to an Infantry Sargent about ten feet away. He wanted to get there, make sure he was all right and to lose his new 'friend'. He turned to his left, looked the pest in the eye and said, "I'm a convict."

That stopped him but only for a moment. "What did you do?" he asked warily.

"I killed a man for askin' too many questions," he said coldly. That worked. The soldier stuttered something and walked away.

"Do you think that was wise?"

Chief had heard movement to his right so knew someone was there but was surprised by the voice. Not because it was so close but because of who it belonged to. He turned to look. Garrison was standing there, his rifle held loosely at his side. He was watching the retreating man then flicked a look in Chief's direction.

"You kin hear?" he asked anxiously.

"Not really," and he looked back at Chief. "The ringing's not as bad, so I guess that's good."

"But, then how …?"

"I know that look," he said with a smile.

"Worked," he answered and returned the smile. The two men walked on in silence. It had been a long tense day and both men were tired and hungry. It was late evening before they had a chance to do anything about either of these conditions. When the food finally became available they were past caring, preferring to sleep. Tomorrow they would eat. They slept the sleep of the exhausted but were roused too soon by the sounds of tanks, trucks, mortars shells and the sounds of men talking of their fears and worries.

General Collins had set up his headquarters in a farmhouse at the south end of the town so immediately after breakfast the two men began their quest for transport. At least here they did not have to worry about double agents, here they had to contend with everyone being busy with the requesting, transporting and movement of troops and weaponry, all moving south, east and west. And, of course, the chain of command. It took most of the day to work their way up to someone who put in a call and then told them to wait for a reply. Meanwhile they ate and rested.

It did not take long before both men got restless. Neither were used to doing nothing so they wandered. Chief practiced with his knife while Garrison watched the comings and goings of the trappings of war. Chief knew he wanted to talk to the men but without hearing the response it was pointless. He retreated but still watched as Chief watched him.

Again he was struck by how Garrison belonged here. He would be recognized for the leader he was and promoted. The look of longing he glimpsed once in a while only strengthened this belief. The cons had to let him go. If they asked him, he would deny it. He was a good soldier, he would do as he was ordered. That meant the cons would have to force him to go, or con him into it. He would have to talk to Actor about that. He tried to think of a con but he was no good at that sort of stuff. Actor would know.

As if summoned, Garrison wandered over to where Chief was perched on the hood of a jeep. "I'm going in for a bit," he said as he rubbed his forehead. Chief hopped down to accompany him but Garrison held up his hand and said, "Stay. I'll be all right. Keep an eye on the communications. Maybe they'll give us another mission."

Chief stopped dead, confused. A mission? He watched as his leader wobbled. He took two fast steps fearing the man was going to fall then slowed as he recovered. He tailed him back to the tent they had slept in last night. Once he was sure the man was laying down he made his way towards the communications area. He was stopped several times by soldiers determined to keep civilians out but eventually got close enough to quiz the operator.

"Anything?"

The poor harried operator shot him a glance then said abruptly, "About what?"

"Special Forces. Two to return to England."

"No noth …. Wait." He sat transfixed for a minute then responded. Then another silence before he looked over. "What's your name?"

"Chief an' Garrison."

"Yeah. You're to wait here. They'll see what they can do."

"Didja tell'm he needs to be in a hospital."

"Look buddy, there's medical units here," said a Lieutenant who was standing on the other side.

"He needs more'n a bandage. He can't hear and he gets tired real easy. There's som'um wrong He needs a real hospital."

"Look son," interrupted a Major.

"I'm not your son!" Chief hated when people started with that. It meant they were about to tell you why you were not going to get what you wanted or needed. "I'm a guy who cares about what happen to 'im. Either arrange a way back or we're gone!"

The Major's face had been conciliatory but hardened with Chief's tone. "You're working for the US Army and as such, you will address me in the manner I have earned. This," and he pointed to the gold leaf, "says you will speak to me with respect."

Chief stared back unfazed. "With all due respect," he said with eyes narrowed in anger, "I'm gonna take the man who has earned my respect by his actions an' I'm gonna find a way to get him back to get the help he needs. Thanks for all your help, Sir." He snapped off a salute Garrison would have been proud of, turned and left, back straight, head held high. Damn, he thought. Put a little shit on a guys shirt and it goes to his head. As he walked he began to cool off. What if that shit decided to send the MP's after him for talking like that. Normally he wouldn't care, Garrison would bail him out but he was in shape to do that. He better just get Garrison and get out. He began to walk a little faster.

Up ahead he saw a man with his arm in a sling. The bandages were fresh. That meant a hospital and that would mean a doctor and that meant help for Garrison. After approaching the injured soldier and being pointed in the right direction he set off on his quest.

Once there he entered and stopped the first nurse he met. "I gotta talk to the Doctor."

"Are you injured?"

"No, but my friend is."

"I am sorry the Doctors are very busy. There must be a local doctor in town. Why don't you go see him."

"My friend is a First Lieutenant in the US Army and he's injured. He needs to see a doctor."

"All right. Where is he? I'll see if I can get someone to look at him."

"I'll get 'im."

Chief raced off but by the time he returned with the officer the nurse was nowhere to be seen. Instead there was an orderly standing by the door smoking a cigarette. "Lieutenant needs ta see the Doctor."

"He's outa uniform. Where's his uniform, dog tags?" he asked suspiciously.

"We're Special Forces. We operate behind enemy lines."

He nodded. "Docs are all in surgery. They're only dealing with the seriously wounded." He sounded tired.

"The guys, really hurt, do ya send them back to England?" an idea was forming.

"If the doctors can fix'em up they go back to their units, if not then, yeah, they're put on a truck to the coast and shipped back to England."

"I need to get him on that ship. He's can't hear."

The orderly exhaled loudly. "The bus is due to arrive in about an hour. Ask the driver if he can go. I can't guarantee but you can try."

He would do more than try. Chief was going to get him back one way or another.