On Christmas Eve, word got down that the Germans were planning an attack.
At the front her foxhole, Rory could see infantry supported by half-tracks roll out of the opposing tree line. Men anxiously waited. They were told to hold their fire until they could get a better shot. Still, on limited ammo supply, they had to be very careful when to use a bullet. Rory looked through her sight, waiting until her first target became more visible.
"Jesus". Jackson whispered, "how many damn guys do they need?"
"Loads, apparently". Toye mumbled, "right…hold your fire, guys. You're doing good. We're 'gonna take the fellas on the right. Babe and Eddie will give us covering fire and we'll try and move up. Don't worry, we got Guarnere with the mortars and Grant on the bazooka to take out those fucking half-tracks".
Toye then gave both Jackson and Rory's shoulder a clap;
"I'm right with you kids, alright? Let's take those fuckers down and then grab some navy white beans for supper, what'd you say? Sounds good, huh?"
The settled snow rattled from above them, while the rumbling from the half-tracks disturbed the ground. Rory could feel some snowfall on her shoulder, from the tree above. Rory quickly dusted the snow off her shoulders before looking through her sight again. She could feel the adrenaline pump up inside of her;
"they're getting close, Sarge".
Toye nodded;
"damn right, kid. And we're 'gonna get 'um all, huh?"
They could rely on Toye to get everyone pumped up for the fight. He was like a coach, hyping his team up before a game. Toye hadn't always had the best life and his feelings towards himself weren't always great. But even he couldn't deny that he made a fantastic Sargent. His squad listened to his every word while out in the field. And they trusted his every order. Rory felt safe around Toye and had done since day one.
"Get ready!" Toye yelled to his guys.
As the enemy got closer, the men narrowed into a target.
Toye soon signalled for Heffron to start firing.
And then, the rifles popped to life.
The quiet forest soon erupted in a cacophony of gunfire. The impact from the mortar and bazooka blasts jarred small avalanches of snow down from the tree boughs overhead. And while Easy tried to push the enemy back, Smokey Gordon got hit by a sniper. The bullet struck him in the shoulder, passed through his body and nicked his spinal cord.
Winters had soon raced towards the firefight. He barked out orders while moving among the men. Machine-gun and antitank fire forced the half-tracks to retire, and without their support, the German infantry soon followed. The battle began to quieten down. A few shots were fired at random, by friendly and enemy. And when quiet did fall across the line, they took in the field before them. Several ruined vehicles and thirty-eight German soldiers lay sprawled out in front of Easy. Three had been taken, prisoner.
Rubbing the back of her neck, Rory leaned back against the frozen mud inside the foxhole. Taking in a deep breath, her eyes landed on her rifle, which sat across her lap. Hands shaking slightly, she put the safety back on her rifle. Toye jumped into the foxhole and crouched in front of her. Smiling, he clapped her shoulder;
"good job, kid. We really showed them, huh?"
She nodded;
"yup".
"Holy shit!" Guarnere soon exclaimed when he saw what they had done. "How many Krauts is that, Buck?"
"Hard to tell". Buck replied, "maybe-"
"thirty-eight". Jackson told them.
With a nod, he looked at Guarnere and Buck;
"that's thirty-eight…the rest headed back in the woods".
Sighing, Rory mumbled;
"I hate getting used to this, Sarge".
Toye frowned a little;
"used to what?"
Shrugging, she said;
"feeling all shaky and stuff".
"That happens, don't worry". Toye assured her, "old Guarnere was shaking like a leaf after Brecourt Manor".
Upon hearing that, the Platoon Sargent turned around;
"what was that, Joe?"
Smiling, Toye looked over his shoulder;
"nothing, Bill…kids did good, huh?"
Guarnere nodded;
"yup – gold stars all 'round".
"Take it you didn't hear…". A new voice soon said.
"Well, look who it is!" Guarnere grinned, "Johnny, you old son of a bitch".
With a tiny snort, Martin shook Guarnere's hand;
"heard 'bout Smokey?"
"Nope". Guarnere replied, "he get hit?"
"He did". Martin replied, "bullet hit his spine. He can't feel his legs".
"Shit…". Buck whispered, "did doc take 'um?"
"Yeah, he left when shit started to hit the fan". Martin told him, "was making himself some coffee and then a sniper popped him".
Slinging her rifle over her shoulder, Rory soon climbed out of the foxhole.
Curiously, Toye watched where she was going.
She walked by Guarenere, Martin, Buck and Jackson. And eventually moved to the front. Rory's eyes stared at the dead, who were left in the snow. She wondered if new snow would fall and bury them. Rory suddenly thought back to Holland, while they were stationed on the Island. And she reminded herself of all the dead scattered by the roads. It was still surreal to see for Rory sometimes.
Something below her shifted.
Looking down, Rory saw an arm twitch. And a moan soon followed.
Eyes widening, she gasped and took a step back.
But the arm reached out and his hand grabbed hold of her boot.
Rory fell back in the snow, landing on her behind. Breathing heavily, she watched, while the German's head slowly raised. His face was chewed up, his jaw was almost completely gone. It was horrifying. He had a firm grip around her boot, while he used her body to pull himself forward. Because for whatever reason, he couldn't use his legs.
Letting out a choked scream, a shot was soon fired after.
And the German's head landed in the snow.
The grip around her boot loosened and she quickly scrambled away from him.
Sighing, Liebgott lowered his rifle;
"Jesus…like something out of a damn nightmare". He then looked down at Rory, "you good, kid?"
Though her heart raced, she nodded.
Liebgott reached down and pulled the frightened girl onto her feet.
With widened eyes, Rory looked away from the dead Germans.
Taking in a deep breath, she turned around and walked back to her foxhole.
And hoped to find a job, to keep her mind off that German.
…
Sitting in her foxhole that night, Heffron and Jackson continued to tell her about Scrooge.
She leaned back against the frozen mud, squished in the middle of her two friends, while they all shared a blanket. Whenever her friends spoke, a white mist would rise up from their mouths and join the white blanket of snow and fog.
"The Ghost of Christmas Present takes Scrooge to this really happy market. Folks were buying their food and stuff for Christmas dinner, everyone was excited. And then, the ghost takes 'um to Fred's party, you know, Scrooge's nephew. And then, they go to one of Scrooge's underpaid worker's house, Bob Cratchit". Jackson told her softly.
"And that's when we meet Tiny Tim, Bob's son". Heffron added, "Tiny Tim's real happy and cheerful but he ain't doing so good, the kids really ill. The ghost tells Scrooge that Tiny Tim's 'gonna die unless Scrooge changes".
Rory frowned;
"really?" She whispered.
"Yeah". Jackson said, "Bob's underpaid, Roo. He can't afford good medical treatment for Tim".
Heffron nodded;
"yeah…so, Scrooge has 'gotta change, don't he?"
"Now, the third spirit". Jackson said, "is the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. This quiet ghost shows Scrooge the funeral of a really disliked man. The only person who turns up is a fella who's only in it for the free lunch. And everyone starts stealing this man's shit, 'cause they don't care 'bout him, never did".
Heffron nodded;
"yeah…cause he never cared 'bout them. You know who the funeral was for?"
Rory shook her head;
"who, Babe?" She asked.
"Scrooge".
Her eyes widened a little;
"what'd he do?"
"Well, the ghost takes 'um to folk who are celebrating his death". Jackson told her, "and then…well, they head on over to Bob's house and Tim ain't around no more…so, Scrooge is crying and begging this ghost to change his ways, huh?"
"And does he?" Rory asked, sounding hopeful.
Heffron grinned;
"Christ, Scrooge woke up on Christmas day a changed man, Roo. He don't want folk to hate 'um, he don't want the kid to die. He gives loads of money to charity; he gives Bob's family a huge turkey and he spends the day with Fred. And then, he gives Bob a huge pay rise".
"From then on, Scrooge treats everyone kindly. And he embodies the spirit of Christmas". Jackson finished, "for the rest of his life".
A tiny smile reached Rory's lips;
"I like that story".
"Yeah…it's good, huh?" Jackson agreed, "it's called A Christmas Carol and it's by a fella named Charles Dickens. He's written a lot of books".
"Is he still alive?"
Heffron shook his head;
"nah…that fella died way before we were born, Roo".
Rory rubbed the end of her nose;
"I ain't a fan of Christmas…think I'll be like Scrooge?"
Jackson smiled;
"nah…you ain't mean enough, Roo".
…
On Christmas Day, the whole Company gathered around to enjoy a meal together.
It was still navy white beans, only, it wouldn't be cold by the time the meal reached them. Standing in line, the Sargent's placed their men in front, while the officer's hung back at the end of the line. Rory was glad to see Winters had turned up. Even Nixon and Strayer were with him.
Dominquez ladled some watery beans into her cup, Rory gave him a tiny nod;
"thank you". She mumbled softly.
He smiled at her;
"you're welcome, kid. Enjoy".
Leaving the line, Rory made her way towards Winters.
She smiled small up at him;
"hey, sir…you come here for beans, huh?"
Looking down at her, Winters smiled;
"well…word has it, that Dominquez beans are better than turkey".
Rroy shrugged;
"heck, it might be, sir".
"You eat that up before it gets cold, alright?" Winters reminded her, "you all need something warm in your bellies".
Biting down on her lip, she told him;
"uh…sir? I made you something".
Winters looked a little confused.
He wondered what she could have possibly crafted out in the forest.
Rory was looking for a place to put her cup.
Winters offered to hold it;
"why don't you give me that for now, huh?"
Smiling small, she nodded and handed him her cup of beans;
"thank you, sir".
Rory opened up her musette bag and fished around for whatever she had made. Eventually, she did find it and soon brought out a card. Rory had made him a card. She had used a stick of charcoal to sketch out a drawing of Winters sitting on the edge of his foxhole with a guy who looked like Jackson. Winters took the card and admired the sketch for a few moments before he opened up the card to read the greeting;
"SIR,
MERRY CHRISTMAS.
FROM, RORY".
He felt himself smile.
And realised, he hadn't said a word in over two minutes.
Clearing his throat, he looked down at Rory, who was anxiously waiting.
"Thank you, Rory". He sounded very sincere, "what a lovely drawing and card".
Winters handed her back the cup of beans.
Rory smiled small;
"glad you like it, sir". She said, "I did it yesterday, after that battle".
"Well, it's brilliant, trooper". He praised her again, "you're a very talented artist".
Carefully, Winters placed his card into his pocket.
Licking her bottom lip, she asked;
"you 'wanna see the rest, sir?"
Smiling again, Winters nodded;
"alright". He agreed, "give me your cup".
A wider smile reached her lips.
Rory handed him the cup and opened up her musette bag again.
This time, she pulled out her notepad.
Opening it, she showed Winters a sketch she had drawn in Eindhoven. And another four while they were stationed on the Island. And then lastly, what she had drawn while they were in Mourmelon. Rory explained to him what each drawing was, in case he didn't know. But Winters did, her sketches were very detailed.
After showing Winters her drawings, Rory was soon kindly ordered to eat her meal while it was still hot. Jackson and Heffron soon called her over, just as jeep a came to a stop by them. Colonel Sink soon got out and greeted the men from Easy. Rory stood next to Jackson and Heffron, while the Colonel read out loud, a message from General McAuliffe;
"men…General McAuliffe wishes us all a Merry Christmas. What's merry about this all, you ask? Just this; we've stopped cold everything that's been thrown at us from the North, East, South and West. Now, two days ago the German commander demanded our honourable surrender to save the USA encircled troops from total annihilation. The German commander received the following reply; to the German commander, NUTS!"
That cracked a few smiles from the men.
"We're giving our country and our loved ones at home a worthy Christmas present". Sink continued to tell them, "and being privileged to take part in this gallant feat of arms, we're truly making ourselves a Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas to you all, and God bless you".
"Merry Christmas, sir". Rory and others responded.
While a few others cheered;
"nuts, sir!"
The small smile soon vanished, when Rory noticed their medic, Roe.
He was sitting down, leaning against a tree. His cup of beans sat untouched in his hands, while the medic stared out at nothing, with a distant look. Frowning, Rory looked up at her friends;
"what's wrong with, doc?"
Heffron shook his head;
"I ain't sure". He said quietly, "didn't even see me earlier. But I was right in front of him".
Jackson gave her arm a gentle nudge;
"Roo, you left your beans 'till it got cold".
Frowning, she stared into her cup full of beans.
"I feel bad for not eating 'um". She mumbled.
"You 'gotta eat". Heffron told her, "come on, do it for us, huh?"
Sighing, Rory dug her spoon into the watery soup.
Bringing out a spoonful she placed the food into her mouth.
Grimacing, she chewed quickly and swallowed even faster.
Jackson snorted;
"Christ…we ain't asking you to eat worms, Roo".
Rory then took a long drink of water from her canteen.
Clearing his throat, Heffron asked;
"did – uh – did you put your tablets in there?"
Swallowing the water, she frowned and looked at him;
"what tablets?"
"The sulfonamides pills". He reminded her, "you know…so we don't get malaria".
Her eyes widened a little.
Rory shook her head.
Heffron sighed;
"oh, Christ".
"Come on, she'll be alright". Jackson waved it off, "waters practically frozen".
Shaking his head, Heffron whispered;
"listen – uh – something was in the stream…Guarnere was real firm 'bout putting those tablets in".
Frowning, Jackson asked;
"what was in the stream?"
Letting out a nervous sort of laugh, Heffron told him;
"oh…just a head…and some brains".
Eyes growing wide, Rory dropped her cup of beans and her canteen.
Turning around, she only ran a few feet away until she was leaning against a tree, puking.
…
When it got dark, the fog didn't lift, and it felt too cold to snow.
Across the open field, the Germans had started to sing "Silent night".
Rory was alone on outpost, resting against the machine-gun. She found the performance to be a comfort, reminding her that she wasn't alone. And the Germans weren't bad at singing either. She wondered how they decided to celebrate Christmas day. Rory figured it might have been similar to their day. With sharing a meal together and trying to find something to keep their spirits up.
Rory didn't notice when the Germans stopped singing.
Not right away.
And when she finally did, another noise took the night.
It was a familiar whooshing sound, created by incoming shells.
Eyes widening, she then screamed;
"INCOMING!"
Taking cover, Rory hugged the earth inside the outpost.
Shells fell all around their position.
She could hear other Sargent's ordering men to take cover and stay low. But soon, everything around was deafened by the sound of the shells exploding. Rory fell into a state of shock. Her body felt as stiff as a statue. And though she wanted so badly to close her eyes, she found that she couldn't, they were wide with shock.
Frozen mud and snow hit her back.
As well as branches from the trees.
And when it did eventually quieten down, Rory waited.
"MEDIC!"
Slowly sitting herself up, she pressed her back against the mud.
And stared at the machine-gun.
"MEDIC!" They yelled again.
Licking her chapped lips, Rory moved towards the gun.
Looking around, she couldn't see any signs of an infantry attack. Something must have caught the Germans attention. Running a hand down her face, Rory let out a shaky sigh. And soon sharply turned around, when hearing footsteps rush towards her.
"Roo". It was Buck.
The Lieutenant slid into the outpost;
"anything?"
She shook her head;
"what…what happened?" Rory asked, voice shaking slightly.
Buck muttered;
"some nutjob decided to start a fire".
She frowned;
"yeah?"
He nodded;
"don't worry…it's out now".
"Is anyone hurt?"
Buck sighed;
"Welsh got hit on the leg…shrapnel. He's heading into town".
Blinking a few times, Rory faced the front again.
With a tiny frown, she leaned against the gun.
"He 'gonna be alright, sir?" She asked him quietly.
"He'll be fine, sport". Buck assured her, "don't you worry about old Welshy, huh?"
Rory was happy to be leaving outpost after being left alone for two hours. And while making her way back to a foxhole, she heard the sound of a familiar rumbling. Frowning a little, Rory quickened her pace, worried the Germans were about to shell them again. But soon, they all heard German bombers and artillery plaster the town of Bastogne. Flames soon lit up the sky, the forest and their position became clear. Rory could see her friends worried faces in their foxholes, while they faced the fiery night sky.
Stuffing her hands into her pockets, Rory climbed into a foxhole.
She stared up at the sky, eyes glowing orange, yellow and red.
"What happens now?" She asked quietly.
Jackson shook his head;
"I ain't sure…we're well and truly surrounded now, huh?"
Rory sighed;
"have been for a while, Jack".
"We're fucked if they've got the town, Roo". Jackson said, "that's where our wounded go before being evacuated".
Turning to face her, Jackson felt his lips twitch a little;
"Merry Christmas, Roo".
Rory shook her head;
"what's so merry 'bout all this?"
He shrugged;
"we're alive". Jackson said.
Frowning, she mumbled;
"how come it don't feel like enough?"
"Cause we ain't living". Jackson whispered.
Rory turned to face him.
Eyes searching his, she soon reached over and took his hand;
"how 'bout now?"
A tiny smile reached his lips;
"suppose it makes it a little better".
"Don't…don't go missing again, Jack". Rory whispered, "when you was gone with Winters…I missed you".
Jackson gave her hand a squeeze;
"I ain't 'gonna leave you out here, Roo".