"They were 105s, not 88s, sir. We disabled them and pulled out. I figured there were maybe 40 or so krauts still manning three MG-42s to the rear," Dick informed Strayer as we walked down the street. As we walked, two medics carried Wynn on a stretcher passed us. "Hey, Popeye," Dick said warmly as they walked by us.

Strayer repeated, "40?"

Dick nodded and replied, "Yes, sir. We killed around 20, so yeah, probably around 40 left. I think we need artillery or maybe mortars might do the job."

A Jeep horn sounded in front of us and we moved out of the way to allow them to pass us. A few tanks started to come through the farm fields and sitting comfortably on top of one of them, was Nixon. He motioned for the tank to stop and he was smiling brightly. "Going my way?" he asked Dick.

"Sure!" Dick replied, as he tossed his gun up to Nix. Nixon extended a hand down to his friend and helped him up.

"Careful, don't hurt yourself!" Nix laughed as Dick got situated.

They continued to talk as I looked at Buck. I smiled, as we started to march alongside the rest of the armored division.

That night, Dick was walking down the darkened street fiddling with something. Nixon and I were walking together searching for him. When we found him, Nix shouted loudly, "Hey Dick! Wait up!"

Dick turned to see us running to catch up to him. He asked, "What?"

Nixon stated, "You know that map you found? It had every kraut gun in Normandy on it."

"Oh yeah?" Dick asked, somewhat uninterested.

Nix glanced down to see what Dick was fumbling with. "Here," he said as he took the can opener and the can of food from his friend. "Don't ever get a cat," he joked, handing him the open can back.

I looked up at Dick, a little concerned by his quieter than normal personality. Nixon noticed the same thing and asked, "What's on your mind?"

Dick replied, almost in a whisper, "I lost a man today. Hall. A John Hall. New Yorker. Got killed today at Brecourt."

I sighed, recalling the boy we found in the enclosed trench, and remembering his company when they found me. I said, "He was a good man."

"I never knew him," Nixon stated.

Dick replied, "Yeah, you did. Radio-op, 506th basketball team. Able Company." Nix nodded, as if he suddenly recalled the man. Dick continued, "Man...not even old enough to buy a beer." Dick handed Nixon his opened can of food, stating, "Not hungry."

Winters started to walk away from us, as Nix shouted, "Hey Dick!"

When Dick turned around to see what his friend wanted, Nixon added, "I sent that map up to division. I think it's gonna do some good."

Dick just nodded and walked away. Nix and I stood there, watching him leave. I was sad as I wanted to make sure that he was okay.

Nixon nudged me, and then motioned for me to follow him back. I looked at him, then back to Dick. I sighed, looking back at Nix. I said, "You go ahead."

I ran to catch up to Dick. It didn't take me long, as he was walking rather slowly. I knew that he was deep in thought, most likely reminiscing over the days events. We stopped on top of a hill and looked out. Dick took his helmet off, which I had done when I settled in my bunk for the night, as he peered out across the lake. I watched as Brecourt was engulfed in flames and explosions echoed across the valley.

We sat there, watching the scene ahead of us before Dick stood up, grabbing my hand. I stood there, waiting for him to say something. Instead, he held my hand, giving it a little squeeze as he smiled slightly at me. I knew at that moment, that he'd be okay.

We walked down the street toward the town, leaving Brecourt behind us.