Combat! is owned by ABC TV. This story is meant only for the enjoyment of Combat! fans, with no intention to infringe on any copyrights, and no monetary compensation has been received.
I'm sure you can see why this was such a difficult story to write. Probably the reason why the episode The Furlough ended where it did. But that didn't stop us from wanting to know 'And then what happened?'
And you can see the importance of having watched the episode before reading this story. It was also such a natural thing to fold in references to other episodes such as The Little Carousel, Mail Call and The Letter, along with my own story Death Trap.
So, stay with Sergeant Saunders as he returns to the war and his men, still coming to terms with his grief.
Please let me know your thoughts in a review. They're always welcome and helpful.
BACK TO LIFE
Part 2
CHAPTER 12
Saunders smoked his cigarette down to almost burning his fingers before finally flipping the remnants out the window. He desperately wanted to ask Ben for another, but he didn't dare break the welcome silence between them. He went back to staring out the side window as his hands wrapped comfortingly around the rifle in his lap.
It wasn't long before the two trucks reached King Company. As they pulled to a stop, Saunders grabbed his bag and got out.
"Thanks for the lift, Ben."
"No problem," the driver replied. "Hopefully we don't have trouble getting back."
"Item Company's sending a platoon out there," the sergeant explained. "After you unload, stick around for mess. By the time you're done eating they should have handled the krauts. Just to be on the safe side, why don't you see if you guys can stay the night and leave first thing in the morning?"
"Good idea, Sarge," Ben agreed. "I'd rather be on the safe side. That's the first real combat any of these guys has seen. We're all kinda shaken. Thanks again."
With a quick wave, the sergeant headed straight to the Company Quartermaster.
The clerk looked up from his paperwork. "Hey, Sarge. You're not due back until tomorrow. What gives?"
Before the painful memories could return, the sergeant gave his rehearsed reply.
"Just couldn't wait to get back to the front, Manny. As soon as I change I'll get this service uniform back to you."
Manny looked the sergeant over from head to toe.
"A little dusty and wrinkled, but no beer stains. That's always good. You were really lucky I had one in your size. Your duffle bags are all way back there somewhere behind the lines."
Saunders pulled on the hem of his jacket. "A little tight, but it was ok."
The sergeant asked for what he really needed. "Got any cigarettes?"
Manny searched around behind him and pulled out a brand-new pack of cigarettes. "I don't keep 'em very far. Guys are always asking."
Handing the pack over, the soldier asked, "Have a good time in Paris?"
Saunders nodded with a faint smile, held up the pack of cigarettes in silent thanks, and left before his façade began to crumble.
One good thing, he thought, was that being back a day early meant that he wouldn't have to face his men until the next day. He had an entire day to work out what he was going to tell them. No matter how much time he had, he wasn't looking forward to it.
As he changed out of his service uniform and back into his combat fatigues, he was hoping that the cloud of depression would get stripped away as well. But the darkness clung to his back tenaciously.
After returning the uniform, the sergeant was deciding what to do next. As he started to take out his cigarettes, he saw Newburg and Jones approaching. Before they noticed him, Saunders jammed his cigarettes back into his pocket, slipped behind a tent and quickly made his way to the outer edges of the billet.
With no one around, he was more at ease. He didn't know what he wanted to do next, but he did know that he wasn't up to talking to anyone just yet. Walking out well beyond the last tent, the sergeant discovered a small quiet pond surrounded by young trees.
One lone, old gnarled tree stood close to the water's edge, and Saunders gravitated toward it.
Running his hand along the rough bark, Saunders slid down to the ground, leaned against the tree and finally gave in to his grief.
CHAPTER 13
Saunders woke with a start and looked around. The sun was beginning to set. Checking his watch, he realized that he'd been out for about an hour. It was the most he'd slept in the last two days without the disturbing nightmares about Ann.
But he didn't feel very rested. Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he stood up and looked around. He wasn't really hungry but he knew that he needed to eat something. He'd had even less food than sleep since Ann died.
Walking back to First squad's deserted bivouac, the sergeant decided to open some K-rats rather than face men he knew at mess. Looking down at his bedroll, he saw a letter sitting on top of his things. He went to open it but changed his mind. He needed to eat before he forgot all about it.
Rummaging through his haversack, Saunders found a lone box of rations. He opened his bedroll, spread it out and sat down. Without even bothering to look at what he had, the sergeant ripped open the box, opened a can and stuck his finger in to taste it.
Chopped ham and eggs. Breakfast.
He tucked the four-pack of cigarettes into his shirt pocket and pulled out the biscuits. Tearing the package open with his teeth, he used a cracker to dip into the can. Barely tasting what he was eating, he finished the biscuits and dropped the remainder of the ham and eggs down beside his bedroll.
Looking around, he reached for his canteen. Taking a large mouthful of water, Saunders frowned, leaned over and spit it out. Week old, warm metallic water was just not potable. He made a mental note to clean the canteen out and refill it later.
Reaching into his shirt pocket, he pulled out the four-pack of cigarettes, tore it open and stuck one in the corner of his mouth. Taking out his lighter, he quickly lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply to try to get the bad taste of the water out of his mouth.
If only something would work that quickly and easily on his mind, the sergeant thought.
Saunders lay back on his bedroll, trying to keep his mind clear. He suddenly realized that he had yet to report in to Lieutenant Hanley. He sat up, but then hesitated and lay back down. He just couldn't face Hanley yet.
Figuring that he still was technically on leave since he'd returned a day early, the sergeant took one last drag on his cigarette, flipped it out into the growing darkness…and closed his eyes.
CHAPTER 14
Saunders was carrying Ann's lifeless body through the smoky cobblestone streets of Boddington, calling out desperately for someone…anyone…to help him. But the streets remained dark, empty and silent.
He was alone.
With a silent scream of terror and despair, the soldier sat up on his bedroll, drenched in sweat. Running a shaky hand through his damp hair, he looked around anxiously. The squad's bivouac was still deserted and no one else seemed to be alarmed by him as they began to settle down for the night.
Taking out his lighter, the sergeant flicked it open. The flame danced in his still shaking hand as he checked the time. 2100 hours. He'd managed to get a couple more hours of restless sleep in before his nightmares began again.
He pulled out another cigarette and lit it, inhaling deeply with a long, ragged breath.
"You are back," came a stern voice out of the darkness.
Saunders visibly flinched as Lieutenant Hanley flicked on his own lighter and stepped closer.
"Why didn't you report in? I had to hear about it from the Quartermaster?"
"Sorry, Lieutenant," the sergeant responded nervously as he stood up. "Wasn't feeling great, so I figured since I still had one more day of leave I'd sack out early and report in first thing tomorrow morning."
"You ok?" the officer asked with concern.
Saunders ran a hand through his hair again and nodded. "I'll be ok. Just didn't get much sleep."
Hanley smiled faintly. "That's to be expected with R&R in Paris. Get some sleep. As long as you're back, we have a meeting at 0800 hours tomorrow. Getting ready to move out again."
The officer snapped his lighter closed and faded back into the darkness. Saunders sat down and stared at the still dancing flame of his own lighter. With a deep sigh of resignation, the sergeant snapped the lighter shut and lay back with only the glow of the remains of his cigarette for company.
CHAPTER 15
Saunders opened his eyes and sat bolt upright. It was light out. Too light. He looked at his watch. 0807 hours.
He was late.
Throwing off his blanket, he rolled out and began to run. He had laid awake for hours the night before, tossing and turning, and trying to keep his mind off of Ann and what might have been. But days of running on very little sleep had finally caught up to him, and he'd crashed into a deep, dark void.
Running a quick hand through his hair as he neared the officers' quarters, the sergeant wiped the last of his sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand as he slipped in behind the other men.
It did not go unnoticed. Lieutenant Hanley gave him a quick stern look without pausing in his meeting.
"Ok, you've seen on the map where we're heading. We'll be sending out multiple patrols on various missions in preparation for the Company moving forward."
He looked around and continued. "One patrol will be heading north, and the rest of you will be going east. Lieutenant Norris and I'll be going over your missions individually in the course of the day. Private Price is working on all of your maps right now. When your map is ready, I'll be calling you in. Don't make yourselves scarce."
"Any questions?" The officer looked directly at his sergeant, but Saunders remained silent.
"Dismissed."
As everyone broke up, Saunders moved forward to look at the map and Hanley's notations. Fortunately, he thought, it didn't seem that he'd missed anything important. But he still had no excuse. He shouldn't have been late.
"Saunders," the officer said when the others had left.
"Yes, Lieutenant?" the sergeant replied, knowing exactly what was coming. No sense in playing dumb, he thought to himself.
Without waiting, he added, "Sorry. Overslept."
"You ok?" Hanley asked with concern. "This isn't like you."
Saunders nodded. "I'm fine. Guess I'm just having a hard time switching back from R&R."
"Hopefully you flip that switch soon," the officer responded with a gentle warning. "You've got a patrol tomorrow, assuming your men make it back on time and have their switches flipped. We'll go over it later when Price has your map ready."
"Yes, Sir," the sergeant answered, recognizing that he was being dismissed.
CHAPTER 16
Walking back to First squad's bivouac, Saunders' mind was full. He knew that for his own sake and that of his men, he had to somehow get past Ann's death.
But how do you just 'get over it'? he thought. So much easier said than done. How do you get past the anger? Anger at himself for somehow not being there to protect her. If he'd only been faster picking up Mr. Tinsley's medicine. And anger at the heavens for allowing it to happen…for taking her away from him. And what about the guilt? The guilt. How could he ever get past all of that?
He decided that he needed some time alone to hopefully work through it all.
"Hey, Sarge!" came boisterous calls from both Caje and Kirby.
They're back, Saunders thought wearily. So much for his time alone. He wasn't looking forward to this at all. He went over to his bedroll and sat down.
Reaching out for his canteen, he stopped when he remembered that he'd yet to clean it out and fill it with fresh water. Moving his letter aside once again, the sergeant began to pull his toiletries out of his travel bag and transfer them back into his well-worn haversack. He'd have to remember to give the bag back to Manny before the soldier had to come looking for him. And remember to clean out his canteen.
"When'd you get back, Sarge?" Caje asked as the two soldiers came over to their sergeant. "Thought we'd be the first ones back."
"Have a good time in Paris?" Kirby asked with a grin. "Meet any cute mam'selles?"
Trying to hold it together, Saunders went back to digging in his bag and merely replied, "It was fine."
Before either soldier could press their sergeant further, raucous laughter interrupted them. Littlejohn, Doc, Nelson and Brockmeyer were all returning.
"Hey, hey!" Kirby said excitedly. "Here come the other guys!"
"Looks like they had fun!" Caje replied.
As Caje and Kirby went to greet the rest of First squad, their sergeant quickly got up from his bedroll, left the two bags, and silently slipped away.
CHAPTER 17
"Meet any lovely ladies?" Caje asked the others. "Anyone do anything fun?"
"Yeah," Kirby agreed. "Let's have it."
"Billy and I hit a few cafés, didn't we, Billy?" Littlejohn answered with a grin.
Blushing, Nelson replied, "Those French ladies sure like us G.I.'s. But…"
When the young soldier hesitated, Littlejohn explained softly, "Evelyn."
"Well, yeah," Nelson said defensively. "I mean, Evelyn's home waiting and worrying about me. I couldn't do anything that'd make her…"
Waiting impatiently for him to finish, the men chimed in.
"Angry?"
"Sad?"
"Cry?"
"Hurt?"
"Well…yeah," Billy agreed.
Littlejohn laughed. "We still had a good time though."
"I met a nice woman," Doc volunteered.
"Yeah?" Kirby perked up. "What'd ya do?"
"Well," the medic began. "She speaks a little English and likes to practice it whenever she can. So we talked a lot. I took her to a show a couple of times too."
Kirby waited expectantly, and then finally said, "And?"
Doc smiled. "She showed me around Paris. We did a lot of walking and sightseeing. It's probably a really beautiful city without all the tanks, trucks and jeeps everywhere."
"Ah," Kirby responded dismissively with a wave of his hand. "How about you, Brock? Any pretty Fräuleins?"
"No Fräuleins in Paris, Kirby," Brockmeyer laughed. "But I did meet a nice French woman who spoke German too. Found out she and I both like to dance."
"So?" Kirby nudged the soldier.
After a brief moment, the BAR man held up his hand. "No, wait. Don't tell me…you danced.""
When Brockmeyer echoed "we danced," the entire squad laughed.
"Well," Kirby said. "At least me and Caje had a great time, didn't we, Caje?"
The Cajun nodded and smiled. "We did a lot of dancing too."
"Caje found us a couple of lovely ladies," Kirby explained. "They didn't speak any English, but Caje translated."
With a big grin, the BAR man added, "Some things don't need no translation, ya know?"
"Hey!" Billy said suddenly, looking around. "What about the Sarge? Bet he did something fun."
"Yeah," Kirby agreed, turning around. "What'd you do…?"
But their sergeant's bedroll was empty.
CHAPTER 18
After slipping away unnoticed by his squad, Saunders avoided everyone he knew, and made his way straight to the little pond and the old gnarled tree. Sitting down and leaning against the rough bark, he picked up a handful of pebbles. Slowly tossing one after another into the still water, the sergeant watched as the circles rippled outward and lazily overlapped each other.
The sun was warm, and a pleasant earthy smell rose from the pond as it was disturbed by the pebbles. The bullfrogs were in rare form as they croaked merrily. Birds and other wildlife chittered around him, oblivious to the raging battles of the humans.
Saunders liked this place. It reminded him of his time with Ann at the picnic. Their walk in the woods together, away from Mr. Tinsley and the children. For some reason it didn't make him angry or sad. No tears of despair. It only brought back warm memories.
He tossed another pebble and smiled.
CHAPTER 19
"Where'd he go?" Kirby said, looking around and then down at the empty bedroll.
"You mean the Sarge?" Brockmeyer asked.
"He's back?" Doc added.
Caje pointed to the empty bedroll. "Didn't you see him? He was just here. We were talking to him."
" 'cept he didn't hardly say two words to us," Kirby replied. "Like he didn't even want us around."
"He must've come back early," Kirby said, thinking about it. "Cuz he was already changed into his fatigues."
As the men stood trying to figure out what was up with their sergeant, Billy suddenly pointed at the empty bedroll.
"Hey, look. He got a letter."
Each man stared at the white envelope on the blanket. When the BAR man started to reach down, Caje grabbed his arm.
"Kirby!"
With a look of guilt, Kirby replied, "I was just gonna see who it's from. If it's bad news, it'd be good to know who sent it, don't ya think?"
When he saw all of the stern looks from the other men, he added defensively, "Well, I wasn't gonna open it!"
The soldiers stood in silence, just staring until Brockmeyer whispered, "Can you tell if he's opened it already?"
Kirby shook his head. "Nah, it's kinda tucked under his haversack."
Silence descended on the squad again until Littlejohn asked softly, "Remember when he got those two other letters?"
"Yeah," Nelson replied. "They really knocked the Sarge for a loop for days."
"And we never found out what those were about either," Brockmeyer reminded everyone.
Even though he knew what one of those letters had contained, Kirby remained silent. It was no one's business but the Sarge's. Doc also kept quiet about the second letter that he knew about.
The medic finally said, "We'll probably never know what's in this one either. Nobody's business but his."
"What if…?" Nelson began hesitantly.
"What if…what, Billy?" Littlejohn nudged the young soldier.
"Well…you remember when the Sarge talked Danny out of that foxhole when Danny got a letter?" Nelson anxiously tried to explain.
"What if…?"
The soldiers were all silent until Kirby answered, "Nah, the Sarge'd never do anything like that. Not what Danny was trying to do."
"No…no," Billy quickly countered. "I don't mean he'd do…that. I mean Danny was upset because his mom died. What if…?"
All of the soldiers were silent once again as they pondered the possibility.
"The Sarge is really close to his mom," Brockmeyer finally admitted.
"Well," Doc reminded everyone, "We don't know anything for sure. We're just guessing."
"You're right, Doc," Caje agreed. "We'll just have to wait and see."
Brockmeyer added, "We don't even know if he opened the letter yet."
"But whatever it is, it's got to be really important," Billy said softly.
Thinking a moment, he added, "It's gotta be the letter."
As each man thought about what they should do next, a voice came from behind them.
"Does anyone know where Sergeant Saunders is?"
CHAPTER 20
"He's not here, Price," Caje answered.
"I can see," the young soldier said, looking around. "But Lieutenant Hanley wants to see him to go over tomorrow's patrol. I finished his map."
"We got a patrol tomorrow?" Kirby asked incredulously. "Already? How come?"
Price nodded. "Sergeant Saunders didn't tell you? You're all going. Company's moving forward soon, with the whole Battalion coming up behind us right on our tails. Lieutenant Hanley and Lieutenant Norris are both sending out patrols. That's why Lieutenant Hanley needs to see him. Now."
The men of First squad looked at each other. Now meant now with the Lieutenant.
"Guess we'd better find him," Littlejohn finally offered.
"Ok, everyone," Caje said. "Spread out."
Doc held up a hand. "If he's really down about something, he's gonna be off by himself somewhere."
"Good point, Doc," Caje agreed, looking at the rest of the men. "So don't bother looking in places with lots of guys around."
"This is kinda like hide and seek," Kirby noted grimly.
"Except this is no game," Price reminded them. "The Lieutenant really wants to see him now."
"Fan out," Caje said. "Let's find him fast."
CHAPTER 21
As the men of First squad spread out and began their search, their sergeant was still leaning on what he now considered as 'his' tree. His refuge from the pain. All the pain seemed to melt away when he sat there.
Thoughts of Ann were only warm and comforting here.
But as much as he wished that he could just stay there forever, Saunders knew that he had to get back to their billet. Somehow he'd have to face his men, listen to their stories of R&R in Paris…and make something up himself.
Keep it simple, he thought. Simple and dull. Then they'd leave him alone, moving on to other more exciting tales.
The sergeant felt that he was almost ready to handle that. His biggest worry though was Lieutenant Hanley. Hanley knew him too well. He wouldn't be that easy to put off.
"Sarge?" a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.
Looking up, Saunders saw Nelson running toward him. The young soldier stopped short by the tree. "Lieutenant Hanley wants to see you about a patrol. Now!"
Scrambling to his feet, the sergeant ran his hands through his hair. "How long ago was he looking for me?"
Billy checked his watch. "Price came by to get you almost fifteen minutes ago. We've all been out looking for you everywhere."
But before the young soldier could finish, Saunders was already racing toward the officers' quarters.
CHAPTER 22
Approaching the Lieutenant's tent, Saunders stopped, trying to slow his heart rate. It wasn't pounding from his quick run. He knew that he was in trouble. Hanley had said stick close. He'd told everyone that they'd be called in for a meeting soon. He had no excuse.
Taking a deep breath, the sergeant stepped to the tent opening, ready to face the music.
"Lieutenant?"
The officer's head snapped up from the map he was examining.
"Come in, Saunders…and close the flap."
The sergeant pulled down the tent flap, and turned to face his Lieutenant in the dim, gray light. A stony silence fell between the two soldiers.
Hanley finally spoke, obviously containing his anger.
"What's going on, Saunders? I sent Price to get you more than fifteen minutes ago. I told everyone to stay close. It wasn't a suggestion. It was an order. You knew I was going to call you in soon."
"I'm sorry, Lieutenant," was all the sergeant could manage.
"Well, sorry isn't good enough, Sergeant," the officer said as his voice rose with his anger.
"First you failed to report in when you got back from leave. Then you show up late for our meeting this morning. I had to send out a search party to find you and haul you in for this meeting."
He paused to try to control his rising anger.
"And just a little while ago I got a call from Item Company's Captain wanting to know how reliable you were for accurate information about the mortar attack you were caught up in. I'm supposed to verify how reliable you are? You know what kind of dancing around I had to do not to come out looking like a complete incompetent fool? How come I'm just now hearing about it from another Company Commander instead of from my own sergeant?"
The officer paused again to take a deep breath.
"I want to know what's going on. The purpose of the R&R in Paris was to have my soldiers come back to the front rested and ready. Not someone dragging around incapable of even telling time!"
Once again, the stony silence descended over both soldiers. Saunders knew that he had no choice. He had to tell Hanley the truth. The man deserved no less.
"I didn't go to Paris, Lieutenant. I went to a little town in England called Boddington."
Fighting to keep his composure, he added, "I met a woman."
CHAPTER 23
The Lieutenant began to pace in his anger and frustration.
"Is this what it's all about? A woman? Don't tell me. You met a woman; you fell in love and she jilted you."
Fighting back the tears, Saunders replied softly, "I met a woman, I fell in love…and she died."
Hanley stopped pacing and turned around to face his sergeant as a very different silence settled between them. Wordlessly pointing to a nearby crate, the officer sat down on his cot.
Quickly wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, the sergeant sat on the crate. Fishing in his pockets for his cigarettes and lighter, he took a deep breath as Hanley waited for him to explain.
"When Private Vincent was killed, he gave me an envelope full of money just before he died. Said he wanted me to get it to an orphanage in England. I thought about just mailing it, but I didn't trust all that cash getting there."
Saunders ripped open the new pack of cigarettes and stuffed the wrapper into his pocket. He pulled out a cigarette.
"So, I decided to go to England, drop off the money to the orphanage, and then make my way to Paris. But once I got there, things changed. I met Ann Tinsley, the woman running the orphanage. I still intended to just give her the money and leave, but there was an air raid, and while we were all down in the bomb shelter, the orphanage was damaged."
Saunders stuck the cigarette in the corner of his mouth and lit it. Inhaling deeply, he continued as his Lieutenant waited, listening carefully.
"I felt bad leaving a woman, an old man and a bunch of little kids to try to clean it all up and make repairs. So, I stuck around to help out. One thing led to another and I stayed in Boddington."
"How did she die?" the Lieutenant finally asked quietly.
Saunders took another deep drag on his cigarette and answered shakily. "Another air raid. She went back into the orphanage thinking one of the children was missing."
Blinking furiously, he rolled the lighter between his fingers and then clutched it tightly in his fist.
"I found her in the living room under a beam and other debris. I dug her out, but I knew she was dead. I carried her body outside, and some medic took her away from me."
Taking another deep drag on his cigarette, the sergeant exhaled slowly. "I knew she was dead…I never saw her again."
Crushing out the last of his cigarette under his boot, he added softly, "We buried her yesterday."
"Yesterday?" Hanley asked incredulously. "Just yesterday?"
Saunders nodded. "I left right after the funeral. I couldn't stay there anymore."
The Lieutenant stood up. "Well, you're not going out on that patrol tomorrow. You certainly need more than just one day for something like this."
Saunders stood up as well. "Lieutenant, I'd like to take out the patrol. I need to. Just sitting around here makes it all worse. I keep thinking about her."
"You sure you can do it?" Hanley asked doubtfully.
Nodding, the sergeant replied, "I'll be ok."
Glancing down at the map on his makeshift table, the officer said, "I was going to send you east with the others, but I'm going to shift you to the patrol going north. Should be easier."
Walking to the tent opening, the officer threw back the flap and the bright sunlight flooded in.
"Go get some rest. I'll send Price for you as soon as he's done with your map. Don't go far."
"I'll stay in our bivouac or let someone know where I'll be," Saunders replied as he started to leave the tent.
Hanley stopped him. "I'm sorry, Saunders."
With a silent nod of thanks, Sergeant Saunders left.
CHAPTER 24
The hardest part was over, Saunders thought as he walked back to First squad's bivouac. And he'd made it through. He was glad that he ended up telling Hanley the truth.
Now to figure out what he would tell his men. Certainly not the bitter truth. He did not want their sympathy and pity as a constant reminder of a pain he was still trying to work through. And his men needed to trust him to lead and protect them. There couldn't be doubts about his capabilities.
Seeing his men gathered around their coffee fire, Saunders took a deep breath and headed for his bedroll. Slipping his unopened letter into his field jacket pocket, he sat down and waited for the inevitable barrage of questions.
"Want some coffee, Sarge?" Kirby asked. "Just made it."
Certainly not the question that he expected, Saunders thought. Taking out his cup, he handed it over to his BAR man.
"Thanks, Kirby," his sergeant said, taking back a steaming cup of fresh black coffee. "Smells good."
Sipping his drink carefully, he glanced around at each of his men. Littlejohn, Billy and Brockmeyer were all playing cards on the grass with a blanket for their table. Doc was reading a copy of Yank magazine, and Kirby was busily stoking his small coffee fire.
No one asked their sergeant about his furlough. No one even asked about the upcoming patrol or what had happened with Lieutenant Hanley when he'd shown up late. Nothing.
Although he didn't understand what was going on, Saunders was still relieved and grateful. This was going to be easier than he thought. With all of that behind him, now maybe he could begin to heal his heart.
He sipped his coffee in silence.
Caje came into their bivouac and went over to watch the three men playing cards.
"Want to jump in, Caje?" Littlejohn asked, looking up at the soldier.
With a shrug, the Cajun replied, "Why not?"
He sat down and Billy reshuffled and dealt the cards.
"Sergeant Saunders?" came that all too familiar voice.
Saunders stood up. "Be right there, Price."
CHAPTER 25
The sergeant's walk to the officers' quarters was considerably less stressful this time around. He was actually looking forward to this patrol. Hopefully it would help to take away the gloomy cloud that still seemed to be hanging over his head and weighing heavily on his shoulders. Maybe return a little normalcy to his life.
"Lieutenant?" he said at the tent opening.
"C'mon in," Hanley replied as he stood over a map spread out on his table.
Saunders stood next to him and looked at the map. It was a different map than the one he'd seen at the earlier meeting.
"This where I'm going?" he asked.
The Lieutenant nodded. "You sure about this? I can always get someone else."
The sergeant nodded. "I'm sure."
Hanley pointed at the map. "Like I said before, your patrol will head north, while the rest will be fanning out east. North should be easier. Little to no kraut activity reported up north of us. Take the whole squad."
"So, why're we going?" Saunders asked.
Pointing once again, Hanley replied, "This bridge. We need you to check it out. How big is it? What's it made of? Is it strong enough to get an entire Battalion over it? And how much kraut resistance might we come up against? All we know is there's a bridge of some kind there. Could be a foot bridge for all we know. The brass are trying to decide which direction to advance. East or north."
The officer looked up. "Path of least resistance. Either way would be a strategic move."
Saunders nodded. "Ok."
"How're your men doing?" the Lieutenant asked as he folded the map.
Saunders looked at the officer in confusion. "My men?"
"Did you tell them?" Hanley added.
The sergeant shook his head. "They never asked, so I just never said anything."
"Well, they know something's up," the Lieutenant explained. "Little while ago, Caje came to talk to me. Said that the men didn't think you were feeling well. They were concerned. Said he would be willing to take the patrol out to give you a break."
At first Saunders was at a loss for words. Then he asked, "What did you tell him?"
"Told him his concern was admirable, but that you'd be taking the patrol out tomorrow morning."
"Wonder what they're thinking," the sergeant said almost to himself as he stared out the tent.
"You gonna ask them?" Hanley asked, handing over the map.
Saunders shook his head silently and slipped the map into his field jacket.
"Leave first thing tomorrow morning," the officer said, ending their meeting.
CHAPTER 26
Saunders slept fairly soundly for the first time in days. He'd dreamed of Ann again, but without the sweat-soaked nightmares. Simple dreams of making the repairs on the orphanage, and their quiet walk in the woods.
Instead of waking up in the middle of a silent scream, he'd just woken up…sad. He considered it progress.
But he knew that he was far from 'getting over it.' The sadness and guilt still hung over him. Strangely, he now had feelings of guilt that he wasn't having nightmares.
A big reminder that he still wasn't 'right' was that he wasn't the first to wake up. He was always the first. But this time, Kirby had gently nudged him awake. He sat up suddenly, aware that everyone else was already up and moving. He was the last one up, and yet none of his men said a word.
Quickly rolling out from under his blanket, the sergeant wiped the sleep from his eyes and retied his boots. Standing up, he checked all of his pockets. Cigarettes, lighter…and his letter.
Saunders had forgotten about his letter…again. Now it would have to wait until they returned from patrol. He dropped the unopened letter back onto his bedroll.
"We're going for breakfast, Sarge," Billy said as he snapped on his utility belt. "Wanna come?"
Saunders still wasn't very hungry, but he nodded. He knew he had to eat. The seven soldiers headed for mess in the predawn twilight.
Most of the soldiers at mess were those preparing for patrol. The mood surrounding the men was quiet and subdued as everyone grabbed their food and found a place to sit.
Newburg and Jones were already seated. Seeing the sergeant looking for a spot, both immediately stood up with their half-eaten food.
"Sit here, Sarge," Newburg said, pointing to the empty spots.
Before Saunders could protest, Jones added, "We're done."
The two large soldiers walked away, shoveling the last of their eggs into their mouths as they walked. Hesitating, the sergeant finally sat down.
Saunders pushed his eggs around on his plate as he sat thinking. He tried concentrating on their upcoming mission, but images of Ann kept filtering through no matter how hard he tried to stay focused.
Suddenly a hand reached around him and swept his plate away, quickly replacing it with a new plate piled with steaming hot scrambled eggs.
"They need to be eaten hot, Sarge," Hash insisted from behind Saunders. "Cold, it's like eating globs of glue."
Taking the sergeant's cup, the cook added, "I'll get you some hot coffee, too."
The startled sergeant turned to stare at the back of the receding cook as the man pushed other soldiers aside to refill Saunders' cup with fresh coffee. Saunders looked at his men around him, but they were all concentrating intensely on their eggs as if they'd not seen or heard anything that had just happened.
When Cook returned and set down the coffee, Saunders looked up.
"Hash…"
"Just eat while it's hot," Hash cut him off gruffly and went back to the growing chow line.
The sergeant ate quietly.
CHAPTER 27
As the men entered their bivouac, Saunders looked at his watch. "We'll leave in fifteen minutes. Let's get ready. Littlejohn…"
"We're all ready, Sarge," Littlejohn replied.
"Yeah," Kirby agreed. "Me and Caje got us all extra ammo. It's over there on my bedroll."
"And we got each of us a grenade," the Cajun added. "If you want more, I can run and get it."
Saunders stared at the two men. "No, that should be enough."
The sergeant reached down for his canteen. It was full.
"Me and Littlejohn filled all the canteens," Nelson volunteered. "Figured they've been sitting around in the sun for more than a week now."
"We cleaned 'em all out the best we could," Littlejohn added. "Put in some halazone just in case."
"And I got us all some K-rats," Brockmeyer said.
Saunders looked over at Doc expectantly.
With a grin, the medic held out his hand. "I went and got you a compass. Remembered you lost yours on our last patrol. And my med kit is all packed and ready to go."
The sergeant stared at each of his men, trying to figure out exactly what the heck was going on. Even Hash, Newburg and Jones seemed to be in on it. But what was 'it'?
They couldn't possibly know the truth. Only Hanley knew, and Hanley would've never told anyone. He wondered what they were all thinking, but he didn't dare ask.
"Ok, then," the sergeant finally replied, sticking the compass in his field jacket pocket. "Grab your extra ammo and anything else you need, and we'll get out of here now."
TO BE CONTINUED