bob
At night, on the 18th of December, three hundred and eighty trucks were assembled to take the men to the front. Lugging their weapons and personal gear, men were shoehorned into the trucks, consuming every inch of available space. They were packed inside like sardines. At full speed ahead, the trucks headed for Belgium. And for ten or so miles, the truck's speed fit the mood of urgency perfectly – until the trucks were forced to dramatically slow its pace due to traffic clogging unpaved roads. In Nelly's mind, she pictured the Germans and allies racing each other. Nelly was set on thinking they were going to Antwerp. So, it was, the first to reach Antwerp wins – like the most intense childhood game ever invented.
"I've never heard of it". Buck was telling Malarkey, Guarnere and Toye. "Antwerp?"
Guarnere shrugged and then nodded to Nelly. "I'll bet we're going there".
Nelly sat between Malarkey and Babe. They were close to the tailgate, where the cold air from outside nipped their cheeks. But being close to the tailgate turned out to be a blessing, men were beginning to get sick due to nerves and the bumpy roads. At least the fresh air masked the stench of vomit.
"Wherever we're going, at least we know it's Belgium". Malarkey said, "Unless they stick us close to Belgium…maybe we're staying in France? Nelly said the Ardennes is huge".
"It'll be fucking cold no matter where it is". Toye mentioned.
Back pressed up against the side of the rattling truck, Nelly's knees were drawn toward her chest and her arms wrapped themselves around her legs. They didn't have benches inside the truck, men sat on the floor – except for Buck and Guarnere, who both sat upon a raised platform by the tailgate. Inside the darkened truck, Nelly was reminded of being captured by the Nazis in Holland. They drove for hours and eventually reached the train, which took the captured agents to Mauthausen. Everything came back to Mauthausen. One of Nelly's hands reached up to rub at her forehead – in some form of frustration. Malarkey gently took a hold of her wrist, thinking his friend was about to attack herself again.
"Nelly, are you okay?"
Sat across from them, Toye glanced over at Nelly and Malarkey. Nelly was trying hard to remain in the present and not slip back into the past. But very slowly, her eyes formed that distant look – as her mind pulled memories to the forefront of her brain. Ben and Pieter were the two agents with Nelly in Eindhoven – they would speak Dutch inside the truck, so as to not frighten Nelly with the truth. She remembered Pieter, the older of the two, placed a cyanide capsule in Nelly's hands with an order to crunch it between her teeth and die. Pieter wanted Nelly, to kill herself. Because where they were going, Pieter didn't believe they had a hope of surviving – he believed it was all suffering from there on. And he was right.
She still had that capsule.
It was hidden among other things under the sole of Nelly's boot. Wrapped up, between rolls of negatives. Nelly's promise to Francisco Boix was to keep those rolls of negatives and show them as evidence when the time was right. Nelly wondered if there was ever a right time. She wasn't the only escapee to have some evidence of the war crimes committed in Mauthausen. Pieter, Ben and several others held onto rolls of negatives too. Nelly wondered if they had shown anyone yet – or, like her, they weren't brave enough to explain what happened to them in great detail. Nelly couldn't imagine Ben and Pieter not being brave enough. They were so tough. Hard shells to crack. Nelly used to be like that too – she was a good agent. Stoic, level-headed not emotional at all. Joining Easy Company had cracked that hard shell around her – for better and worse.
And not only was she thinking about those traumatic memories, but Nelly was uncomfortable.
Very uncomfortable.
Toye leaned forward, "Kid?"
Bowing her head, Nelly's helmet pressed against her knees. "I'm…okay". She said to the ground quietly.
Letting go of her wrist, Malarkey's hand settled on her back. The constant jerking and rattling in the truck, reminded Malarkey of his days spent on a boat on the river back home. It was a feeling he was all too familiar with – having his stomach sloshed around. The city boys struggled.
Guarnere spat over the tailgate and muttered, "Miss those C47s…".
Grinning, Buck gave Guarnere's leg a nudge with his boot. "Not your style, Gurno?"
"Puking over the damn tailgate ain't anyone's style, boss". Guarnere said, "Who looks cool puking, huh?"
"John Wayne, maybe". Buck said.
Gaurnere snorted out a laugh. "Heh – well, that ain't something we'll see".
Toye cast a teasing look at Buck. "You ain't seen John Wayne, Mr Hollywood?"
Buck chuckled and shook his head. "I haven't, no".
Ducking his head and failing to catch her face, Malarkey rubbed Nelly's back. "Do you feel sick or something, pal?"
Toye, Buck and Guarnere cast a small frown toward the two friends.
"Quiet, right?" Buck mentioned to Toye and Guarnere – referring to Nelly.
Guarnere's eyes travelled across the truck – where he saw NCOs speaking with their men. A lot of the replacements still looked pale, frightened and wide-eyed. They were quiet like Nelly. With a tiny sigh, Guarnere stuck his head out of the tailgate. Buck huffed out a tiny laugh.
"Again?" Though, the Lieutenant sounded sympathetic.
Guarnere muttered, "I'm wasting Goddamn energy".
Hushed words were shared between Malarkey and Nelly – words that no one else could hear. It bothered Toye. He was verging on worried. To appease the anger and worry, he lit a cigarette. Raising his head, Malarkey sent them a tiny but nervous smile.
"Goddammit, what, Malark?" Toye grumbled.
Malarkey kept his arm around Nelly's shoulders – her head was still buried somewhere by her knees. He looked up at Buck, who was staring back at him. "So – uh – when do you think we'll be stopping, Buck?"
"I ain't sure, Don". Buck replied. "We've been on the road for four hours now – most likely soon".
"Is soon like…an hour?" Malarkey questioned, "Or…ten minutes?"
Buck pulled a face. "Come on, Malark. You know by now they don't tell me anything".
Pulling his head back inside the truck, Guarnere wiped his mouth. "Fucking Christ…". He didn't have the energy to sound remotely angry. "Anyone got gum?"
Buck always carried around Wriggles gum. And he handed Guarnere a stip.
Guarnere gave him a half-hearted salute. "Boss".
Buck reached over and clapped Guarnere's shoulder. "Take it easy, huh?"
Nodding and chewing on the stick of gum, Guarnere leaned back. "For now, huh?"
"Yeah – don't waste that good energy".
Guarnere thumb outside, "It's out there – somewhere on the fucking road".
Buck chuckled quietly. And grimaced. "Nice". He remarked.
Toye was still staring at Malarkey and Nelly. "What're you, shitheads, up to?"
"I've…". But Malarkey nodded down at Nelly. "Gotta take a leak, Joe".
Toye sighed. And looked at Buck. "Ten minutes, right?"
Buck shrugged with an apologetic frown.
Toye looked back at Malarkey. "Not a lot we can go, Don".
Malarkey rubbed Nelly's arm. "I know – thanks anyway, Joe".
Babe's eyes glanced over at Toye. "Hey – I've 'gotta piss too, Joe".
Puffing on his cigarette, Toye said, "Can't do nothing, kid".
The same comment was passed around the truck, like a game of Chinese Whispers. And there wasn't anything anyone could do. And as well as comments being passed around, vomit-filled helmets were passed up toward the tailgate to be emptied.
"Remember that jump in England?" Jackson said with an amused grin. "Hughes started a damn chain reaction and had everyone puking – this sort of reminds me of that".
"Jesus". Toye snorted. "Hell, I remember that".
"Except it ain't hot". Guarnere said, "And we ain't on a damn plane".
Buck smiled at Jackson. "Don't mind him, Jackson".
Jackson still looked amused. "Yeah – I ignore Gurno's snarky moods".
"That's Sergeant Gurno, you little shit". Guarnere joked.
Surprisingly, a few chuckles were heard throughout the truck. The chuckles momentarily broke the tension – only for a few seconds. But it was a lovely few seconds. Buck settled back against the side of the truck and smiled.
"I forgot we could all laugh". He said, "It's been so damn quiet".
"If we ain't laughing, we're complaining". Guarnere lit himself a cigarette.
"How's your stomach?"
Guarnere shrugged one shoulder. "Good".
Buck grinned. "Good".
...
After eight hours, the trucks finally pulled up at the side of a road. Guarnere and Buck unlatched the tailgate and pulled it down before jumping off. Grabbing a hold of Nelly's arm, Malarkey got her up and jumped off first before helping his friend down. Toye watched the pair of them race across the road and toward a ditch. Finishing off his cigarette, the Sergeant dumped it onto the ground before taking care of business. They weren't sure of their whereabouts. The men hadn't been briefed yet, but they only had fifteen minutes until it was time to move again – by foot. It was cold. But the ground was yet to freeze with frost and ice. Toye leaned against the truck, his eyes soon finding Dike – who was speaking with Lieutenant Shames. Shames had been brought in to lead 3rd Platoon in Easy Company while they were at Mourmelon. Toye didn't know what to make of Shames. But he knew he didn't like Peacock – no one really liked Peacock. Buck was somewhere behind the truck – relieving himself. But he'd soon join Dike, Foley, Shames and Peacock for the briefing.
Toye's eyes found Malarkey and Nelly walking back across the road. "You kid's alright?" He asked once they were standing close by.
"Fine, Joe". Malarkey sent him a smile.
Toye nodded before telling them, "We've got fifteen minutes before we're leaving".
If he knew where they were going, Toye would have said. "Alright, cool". Malarkey responded – almost casually.
"Yeah, just – uh…".
"What the hell is this?" Babe questioned.
Walking along the road, in the opposite direction, were hundreds of men. Heads bowed, some were bloodied and wounded but they all looked pale and frightened. In the distance, they heard the familiar boom of a battle taking place. It didn't take long for the 506th to realise they were all staring at a retreating American unit. All they could do for a moment was stare in disbelief. That was until Babe stepped up to one of them, asking what was going on.
"They'll murder you…". One of the frightened men said, "They'll kill you all…get out of here. Go someplace else".
Perplexed at first, Babe soon grabbed the man's ammo. "I'll take that if you don't need it".
"Take it…I don't want it…I don't need it".
It was upsetting for some men to witness the retreating Americans – tears even reached some of their eyes. Nelly suspected it was all down to fear and the unknown. Or that lack of confidence some might have felt now. Nelly stayed by the side of the road, watching her friends take ammo and whatever they could find from the retreating soldiers. She tried her best not to allow those fearful words to sink in. But Nelly was still only eighteen. Every kid got scared from time to time. Crouched in front of her, Toye wrapped a green scarf around Nelly's neck and tucked it inside her jacket. After fastening her jacket up, he stuck a few clips of ammo into her webbing. Giving Nelly's jacket a gentle shrug, Toye sent her a warm smile. God, she was quiet. He tried not to worry too much – sometimes, Nelly was just very quiet and moved around unnoticed. It was her way of dealing with potentially stressful situations.
"How about you stick with me, huh?" Toye said to her gently.
Without looking at him, Nelly faintly nodded.
She wasn't looking forward to the suffering again – Nelly hated watching her friends suffer. She hated watching them get hurt, grow hungry and tired. She hated watching them die. Her fingers and hand wrapped around Toye's jacket sleeve. Nelly's body shifted closer to his side. Toye took a quick glance down at the girl and then raised his head – Guarnere hobbled toward them.
"We're heading for Bastogne". He said, "Don't ask me what the fuck it is – it's some town we've 'gotta secure. Cause there's seven crossroads in that damn place and we've 'gotta secure 'em all".
Toye gave a firm nod. "That all, Bill?"
"Leaving in five". He said, "You get anything from those guys?"
"Shared what I could get out with the fellas".
"Malark's low on rounds". Guarnere mumbled, "We're 'gonna need a fucking miracle".
Just then, they all heard a jeep thundering along the road. "Make a hole!" Someone yelled while peeping the horn. "Make a hole!"
When the last of the retreating men cleared the road, the 506th saw a Lieutenant sitting inside a jeep – with ammo in the back of the vehicle. Toye shot Guarnere an amused smile. "There's your miracle, Bill".
"Who the fuck is that?" Guarnere asked. And then he shook his head. "Who gives a fuck – Joe, grab whatever you can carry. Let's get our guys geared up".
Sending Guarnere a nod, Toye looked down at Nelly. "Come on, kid. Let's get what we can for the fellas".
Keeping hold of Toye's jacket sleeve, Nelly walked beside her Sergeant toward the jeep and the Lieutenant. Winters and Nixon were standing by the Lieutenant, thanking him for the unexpected ammo dump. Skip was at the back of the jeep, grabbing mortar rounds. When he noticed Nelly, he sent her a kind smile and then left, to dish out what he had with Malarkey and the other mortarmen. It turned out to be Lieutenant Rice – their own 2nd Battalion HQ machine gun Platoon Leader. He had raced ahead in search of ammo in the village of Foy.
With Nelly sticking close to him like glue, Toye grabbed what he could carry and shared what he had with the men. Nelly had a few more grenades and ammo for her rifle inside her webbing and musette bag – thanks to Toye. With the men equipped with a little more ammo, they soon began marching in formation along the road toward Bastogne. Nelly's fingers and hand clutched onto Toye's jacket sleeve like a lifeline.
"What's going on, Joe?" Hughes whispered to the Toye – referring to Nelly.
"Everything's fine, kid". Toye said to him. "You looking better for ammo now?"
"Doing alright, Joe". Hughes replied. "Thanks for rounding everything up for us".
"Don't mention it, Ritchie".
They walked through the town of Bastogne – it was a sad sight. A once beautiful town, now destroyed and left in ruin. No one came out to greet the soldiers – they were either hiding or left the town to seek shelter somewhere safer. Boots marched on damaged roads, while they passed by torn-down houses and businesses. Some fires were still alit after a bombardment. And it was the bodies of soldiers and civilians that really sunk in for what could be in store for them – as if the retreating Americans weren't enough. And as they walked out of the town, the sounds of a fierce battle grew louder.
One mile and a half outside of Bastogne is where the 506th created their main line of resistance (MLR). They had to set up a perimeter defence, surround Bastogne in a circle and hold it. It was nothing like France or Holland. In France, they were on the move. In Holland, they were spread out but in Bastogne, the Company was all together. Their job was to hold the line and try to stay alive. They got into position in the Bois Jacques woods, and they dug in. It was clear the woods previous occupants had some fight. The ground had craters from 88s, shell cases and the dead. Dead American and German soldiers and limbs – an arm there, a leg here, blood and guts. They knew trouble was coming.
But they had to hold.
It had to hold.