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.
If you're this far into the story then there's no need to remind you that this picks up exactly where the TV series episode The Furlough left off. Saunders is trying to come to terms with Ann's sudden death and being back on the front responsible for his men's lives and completing their mission.
Grappling with the myriad of emotions coming at him from seemingly every direction, Saunders leads his squad on their first patrol since returning from furlough.
Thanks for reading. Be sure to leave your thoughts at the end.
BACK TO LIFE
Part 3
CHAPTER 28
As the various patrols began to leave, Lieutenant Hanley weaved through the squads of soldiers and made his way over to First squad.
Waving his men forward, Saunders took off his helmet. "Head off to the front lines. I'll be there in a minute."
When the men had all left, Hanley asked, "How you doing?"
"I'm ok, Lieutenant," the sergeant replied. "Better."
"Get any sleep?" the officer asked with concern.
Saunders nodded. "It's ok. Don't worry."
Hanley replied, "I am worried. For both you and those men."
The sergeant looked at his lieutenant intensely. "So am I, Lieutenant."
Then with a faint smile he added, "This is the easiest patrol, right?"
Hanley answered seriously, "You know as well as I that nothing's ever easy out here."
Slipping his helmet back on, the sergeant left to join his men. When he reached the front lines, he saw Caje talking to one of the soldiers who were dug in.
"I checked the password, Sarge," Caje said as his sergeant approached. "It's been changed. Sun…shine."
"Ok," Saunders replied, looking at his men. "Let's move out."
As two other patrols headed east and began to separate, First squad headed due north. The sun had just poked through the trees, casting long shadows as the new day began.
Having never been in this section before, Saunders had to refer to his map and compass frequently. The area closest to their own lines was highly detailed thanks to Price's hard work. But the farther they went into the sector, the vaguer the map became until there were only the barest of topographical notations.
Stopping once more, Saunders leaned against a tree, pulled his map out and looked around as he unfolded it.
"Keep your eyes open," he said as he studied the map.
But he knew that his words were unnecessary. Even though they had yet to see any signs of Germans, his men were very well aware that they were deep into No Man's Land. They knew that anything could happen…and it usually did.
"Looks like we should be able to see the bridge once we get over that next rise, depending on how thick the woods are."
Tucking the map back into his field jacket, he pulled out his canteen. After a long drink, he capped it and slipped it back onto his utility belt. The water was warm but potable. Littlejohn and Nelson had done a good job of cleaning the canteens out.
"Stay low," he said softly as he began to work his way up the long slope in a low crouch.
The soldiers fanned out as they slowly followed their sergeant. Reaching the crest of the hill, Saunders dropped to his belly with the others following suit on either side of him. The trees were thinner than he'd expected from looking at the map.
A wide, winding river lay stretched out below them. It was much bigger than depicted on the map, Saunders thought to himself. As expected, at least there was indeed a bridge spanning the water. A fairly large bridge. From his position, it certainly looked large enough to get the Battalion across. He needed to get closer.
Scanning the entire area slowly and carefully, the sergeant saw no movement. No signs of krauts. No signs of life.
Rising up, Saunders said in a low voice, "Let's check it out."
CHAPTER 29
The sergeant took his time going down to the river. Glancing at his men spread out on both sides of him, he worked his way forward. Reaching the river bank, he raised his hand and all of the soldiers stopped.
The bridge was a combination of stone, metal and wood. From where he stood below, it looked pretty solid. But he had to be sure.
"Littlejohn…Billy, check out the closest piling," Saunders said, pointing. "See if it looks strong enough to carry a heavy load. Tanks, halftracks. Watch out for the current. And check for booby traps."
The two soldiers began to wade into the river toward the closest piling when Nelson suddenly dropped down. Before the current could take him away, Littlejohn grabbed onto the young soldier's arm and pulled him back to the river bank.
When the two men were back on dry land, Nelson shook his head as he stomped his boots to get some of the water out.
"No way, Sarge. The bottom drops off really fast. River's a lot deeper than it looks."
"Ok," Saunders said, looking up at the bridge. "We'll have to get a better idea from up on top."
Moving downstream, the sergeant reached the road and warily stepped onto the bridge. He didn't like it. An unguarded bridge that might allow an entire Battalion of the enemy to follow on their tails as they pulled back. The krauts weren't stupid.
Looking around carefully, he said quietly, "Caje, take the point. Go slow while I check the bridge out. Doc…stick close to Brock."
The squad cautiously made their way over the bridge, with Littlejohn and Nelson right behind Caje, and Brockmeyer and Doc following them. Kirby automatically dropped back behind his sergeant to cover the rear.
Saunders moved slowly, inspecting the road over the bridge for cracks or other weaknesses. His squad watched him carefully, mirroring his movements. The sergeant wanted to be absolutely sure that the bridge would be able to carry the heavy load. An entire Battalion could be depending on his decision.
When he reached a spot just beyond the middle of the bridge, he stopped. There was a hairline crack. He followed it across from one side to the other. Taking off his helmet and propping the Thompson against the railing, he leaned over the railing.
"Kirby," he said, turning to his BAR man, "go back to the river's edge, look where I am and see if you notice any cracks or crumbling here. Anything."
The sergeant pointed to a spot as he leaned over the railing. Kirby waved silently and ran back off of the bridge and down to the water's edge. Saunders caught his boot in the rail and leaned out even more.
"See anything?"
Before Kirby could respond, the sergeant heard a very distant, familiar and ominous thump. He froze. In an instant his brain registered and identified the sound. Heavy mortars.
Pushing himself upright, he screamed, "Get off the bridge!"
The first round was long and exploded downstream in the river, sending up a geyser of sand, rocks and water. As Saunders went to grab his helmet and Thompson, he saw Kirby running up onto the bridge to join the others.
Waving frantically, the sergeant yelled, "No, Kirby! Get back!"
CHAPTER 30
Before Kirby could turn back, the road between the two soldiers exploded. It was quickly followed by another explosion down on the water line. A piling crumbled, and the entire section of the bridge groaned and collapsed in a roar, taking the BAR man with it.
Saunders was lifted off his feet with the concussion, slamming against the railing and crashing to the road. Lying on his belly, he pressed his face against the warm stones as he tried to avoid flying debris.
Seeing Kirby disappear amid the rubble, Saunders left helmet and Thompson behind and, without hesitation, rose up and ran to the remains of the railing. He climbed over and jumped into the clearest part of the water that he could see. Landing feet first trying to avoid hitting debris, he was driven straight down into the still swirling river.
Pushing debris aside, he made his way upward and broke the surface. Taking a quick deep breath, the sergeant looked around frantically for the soldier.
The BAR man was barely visible among the debris, and Saunders had to struggle to keep him in sight, as both men and debris were driven along downstream by the current. Pushing splintered wood aside, the sergeant took a few quick strokes and reached out to grab the soldier's jacket just before he slipped under the water and debris.
Pulling him in close, Saunders tried to make his way across the current, closer to the river bank. Another two shells landed and exploded, now zeroed in on the remains of the bridge.
The water continued to churn with debris, and Saunders was slammed by a large splintered piece of wood. Shouting in pain, he momentarily lost his grip on Kirby, but quickly reached out to once again take hold of a fistful of the soldier's jacket.
Finally feeling his boot kick bottom, the sergeant gave a few more strokes, and got both feet firmly planted on solid ground. Pulling himself up on the river bank, he dragged Kirby out of the water.
The middle of the river exploded, and a geyser of water and debris sprayed the two soldiers as Saunders instinctively lay across the unconscious soldier to try to protect him. When it had subsided, he quickly checked the BAR man's breathing. Nothing.
"No…no…no!" Saunders yelled, rolling the unconscious soldier onto his side and frantically pounding on his back. He couldn't lose Kirby too. He just couldn't.
"Breathe, Kirby! Breathe!"
Long moments passed. Nothing. The sergeant continued, totally unaware that the mortar barrage had stopped. It seemed that lifetimes had gone by, but still Saunders persisted, unwilling to give up.
Suddenly the BAR man jerked violently and threw up what the sergeant felt must have been half the river. Coughing heavily, Kirby sucked in a deep shaky breath and coughed again. More water came up. More coughing. But at least he was breathing.
"Say something, Kirby," Saunders said worriedly. "You ok?"
The BAR man rolled onto his back and stared up at the sky with a dazed blank look.
"Bridge…" he coughed and whispered. "Bridge looks…good."
Saunders laughed in relief and looked back at the remains of the bridge, still smoking and crumbling. The Battalion definitely wouldn't be coming in this direction any time soon. He ran a hand through his soaking wet hair that lay plastered to his head.
With sudden alarm, he scrambled to his feet and looked around upstream at the ruined bridge and then across the river. Where were the rest of his men? Thick woods lined the bank all along the opposite side of the winding river as far as he could see in both directions.
There were no signs of the rest of his squad. Dead or alive.
"My leg hurts," Kirby interrupted his thoughts. The soldier was in obvious pain.
Looking down, the sergeant saw the soldier's leg covered in blood, with a jagged piece of metal protruding from his thigh. Saunders quickly unclipped his belt and pulled it from his pants. Dropping to one knee, he slid it under Kirby's leg, wrapped it around above the wound and cinched it tight.
When Kirby's hand went to his thigh, his sergeant stopped him.
"There's a fragment in your leg, Kirby," Saunders explained. "Don't touch it. I want Doc to take a look at it before I try to get it out."
"Where's Doc?" the BAR man asked weakly. "And the other guys?"
Good question, his sergeant thought, looking out once again across the river. Doc can take a look at it if I can find Doc. And if he's even alive.
He looked across the river again. Nothing.
CHAPTER 31
Saunders had a problem. Well…several problems, he thought to himself as he stood up, looked around and assessed their situation. He had a wounded man in need of medical attention. He couldn't carry him without making his injuries worse. He had no weapon except for their grenades. And he'd lost his squad.
Not 'lost', he thought grimly. 'Mislaid' would be a better…more hopeful…word to describe it.
"Sarge?" Kirby called out.
Saunders turned and knelt back down next to the soldier. Kirby weakly pointed to his sergeant's arm. Looking down, Saunders could see that his sleeve was torn, and his arm just above his stripes was bleeding. Pulling back the ripped material of his field jacket and shirt, he could see a cut…no, more like a deep scrape…where he'd been slammed by a piece of debris while getting Kirby to safety. It didn't seem to be anything major, but it just added to his growing list of problems.
"It's ok," the sergeant replied, checking the soldier's leg wound one more time. "Just a scrape."
Trying to look around, Kirby asked, "What happened?"
Smiling faintly, Saunders explained, "Guess the krauts thought we might try to come this way too. Took out the bridge with heavy mortars. Probably why we didn't run into any of them. They were planning to destroy the bridge. We just got in the way."
"Ya think there're krauts around here?" Kirby asked worriedly.
Saunders shook his head. "Those mortars were probably about a mile away, farther north. Looks like they're just protecting their rear as they pull back."
"Where're the rest of the guys?" the BAR man asked, trying to look across the river.
Saunders pointed upstream to the destroyed bridge. "Somewhere on the other side of the river. I haven't seen any of them yet."
"Ya think…?" Kirby began anxiously.
"I don't think anything yet," his sergeant interrupted him. "We'll wait. If nothing happens soon, I'll try to see if there's a spot I can get across to check it out."
Peeling back the material on Kirby's pant leg, Saunders checked the wound again.
"How's it look?" the BAR man asked, trying to see his leg.
"Stopped bleeding," the sergeant replied.
The two soldiers sat quietly and patiently until a faint voice seemingly came from nowhere.
"Sarge?"
CHAPTER 32
Standing up, Saunders looked around on both sides of the river. One of his men…but where?
"Sarge?" came a little louder. Caje.
Saunders could now tell that it was coming from across the river, but he still couldn't see anyone.
"Caje?" the sergeant called out. "Caje! Over here."
As Saunders scanned the trees across the river, a head suddenly emerged from the dense brush.
"You made it!" the Cajun yelled when he saw the two soldiers.
Turning away, he shouted over his shoulder. "I found them! Both of them!"
Soon other faces appeared through the thicket, and Saunders was relieved to see five heads. Everyone had made it off the bridge in time.
"Kirby's hurt, Doc," he called across the river to his medic. "He's still got a piece of metal in his leg. I've put a tourniquet on it, but he really needs some help."
"We gotta find another way across, Sarge," Caje said, looking up and down along the river banks. "River's too deep and fast for us to get across around here."
"You have a handkerchief?" Saunders asked.
When the Cajun shouted 'no', the sergeant explained.
"Get a bandage from Doc and tie it out on a tree near the water. If you do manage to find a way to get across, you'll have a hard time figuring out where we are. Woods and brush are pretty thick. It'll give you a reference point. Just look for the bandage, and that'll help you locate us across the way."
With a wave, Caje disappeared, and after a few moments he returned with a bandage.
"Hold on," the Cajun called out as he tied the cloth to a low-hanging tree limb. "We're gonna go see if there's someplace narrower we can cross. May take us awhile."
With that, the soldier disappeared once again and all was quiet. Saunders listened to the rustling of the leaves in the wind and to the water flowing endlessly downstream. And he waited.
He and Kirby were alone once again. But now there was hope.
CHAPTER 33
Caje tied the bandage to the tree and pulled back into the woods to the other men. "Ok, let's find a way across this river."
Doc looked at him with worry. "From what I could see of Kirby, and what the Sarge said, we'd better hurry."
With Caje in the lead, First squad moved slowly through the dense forest, heading farther downstream. They could occasionally see the river as it wound its way along. No opportunity to cross safely seemed to present itself.
When the river began to narrow slightly, Caje pointed and said, "Maybe this is as good as it's gonna get."
"Why don't we keep going a little bit more?" Littlejohn asked anxiously as he looked out at the swirling water.
"Yeah," Nelson agreed nervously. "If it got narrower here, maybe it'll get even narrower farther down."
"How about we go round that bend out there?" Brockmeyer pointed, not eager to try his luck at crossing the still fast flowing river.
"I don't know," Caje thought. "It might just get wider again."
"We can always come back here if that happens," Doc reminded him.
Thinking over their situation, Caje finally agreed. "You're right. Let's check out around that bend."
Moving on, the soldiers rounded the bend and were rewarded with an even narrower width that also had some of the destroyed bridge debris caught against several boulders.
"That looks good," Littlejohn said, pointing to the debris.
Caje moved closer to inspect the location, looking back upstream and then down.
"Better than the other spot. Still tricky, but I think it's the best we're gonna get."
Reaching a boot out to the nearest chunk of wood, Caje tested his weight and the wood's stability. It seemed firmly lodged in place.
"Follow me," Caje said over his shoulder as he stepped out and balanced on the large chunk of wood caught in the rocks. "Stay close to each other."
One by one, the soldiers slowly maneuvered through the swirling waters, stepping from debris to boulder. Halfway across, Nelson's boot slipped, and Littlejohn quickly grabbed his arm, holding on until the young soldier could regain his balance.
Doc and Brockmeyer waited anxiously until Billy finally gave a slight wave and continued across.
"Go ahead, Doc," Brockmeyer said.
The medic shook his head. "You go, Brock…just in case."
Brockmeyer nodded nervously and started across, with Doc right behind him. When Brockmeyer finally stepped foot onto the dry river bank, with the medic close behind, the entire squad visibly relaxed.
"Ok," Caje said. "Let's find Kirby and the Sarge and get the heck out of here."
CHAPTER 34
Saunders was growing anxious. The wait seemed interminable, and he had to resist the urge to keep checking downstream or checking Kirby's wound. He had faith that his squad would eventually find a way across. He just hoped it was in time to help Kirby.
"Been a long time," Kirby said in a strained voice, as if reading his sergeant's thoughts.
"They'll get across," his sergeant replied reassuringly. "How're you doing?"
Kirby closed his eyes. "A lot of pain."
Saunders checked his wound. "Maybe Doc has some morphine."
Just then Caje broke through the brush.
"Here they are," he called out to the others behind him.
Kneeling down, the Cajun said, "The bandage worked great, Sarge. Didn't have any trouble finding you once we got across and looked for the bandage."
Quickly looking Kirby over, he added, "How you doing, Kirby?"
With an obviously strained voice, the BAR man replied, "I'll be better when I see Doc."
The medic knelt on the other side of the prone soldier and opened his med kit. "I'm right here, Kirby. Let me get you something, and then I'll take a look at your leg."
The morphine took hold quickly, and the pain etched into the BAR man's face receded as Doc checked his wound.
"Can't be sure," the medic said as he carefully pulled back the bloodied material. "But I think you were right to leave that piece of metal in there, Sarge. It looks like it might be helping to keep the bleeding down."
Doc pointed to his sergeant's arm. "I should look at you too, Sarge."
Saunders pulled on his sleeve to look at his injured arm. "It's just a scrape. Piece of wood in the water got me when I was grabbing Kirby. It'll wait."
"Let's get out of here in case the krauts decide to send a patrol out to check on their handiwork."
The sergeant stood up. "Littlejohn…Billy, find some poles."
Brockmeyer said, "Oh, here, Sarge."
The soldier reached out and handed his sergeant his camo helmet. Saunders nodded his thanks and slipped his helmet on.
"How about my Thompson?"
Brockmeyer shook his head. "Your helmet rolled off the bridge onto the road. No sign of your Thompson."
Caje and Brockmeyer were already taking off their field jackets to use for the litter. Dropping his jacket next to Doc, Caje said, "When that bridge came down, we thought for sure that you were both goners."
With a grim smile, Saunders asked, "So why'd you keep my helmet?"
Caje grinned. "Just in case."
"Good thing," Kirby said weakly as he watched Littlejohn and Nelson return with two long branches stripped of their leaves and smaller branches.
"Take more than a mortar barrage blowing the bridge out from under us to get the Sarge and I," Kirby added as he closed his eyes.
"Let's not push our luck," their sergeant replied, rolling the shoulder of his injured arm. "Get that litter together and let's get moving."
CHAPTER 35
The way back was slow. Saunders remembered very little of the landscape from their way in. He realized just how little he'd been paying attention then. But after almost being blown from the face of the Earth, and almost losing Kirby, the sergeant was now very alert and attentive to their surroundings. With his map a soggy pulp, he referred frequently to the sun and his compass.
Nearing their own front lines he slowed, listening for sounds of movement. After what they'd just been through, he didn't want one of them killed by friendly fire.
"Sun…" came a voice from the brush.
Saunders froze. It wasn't the old password. He remembered that Caje had told him it'd changed…but he hadn't been paying attention. He couldn't remember the new password.
With the patrol completed, his men safe and his adrenaline receding, the sergeant could feel the gray fog slowly settling heavily around his shoulders once again. Would it never leave?
Sun…moon? Rise? Think, Saunders.
"Shine," Caje called out from behind when he heard his sergeant's hesitation.
"Advance," came the reply as a soldier on the line stood up and came forward from behind the bushes.
"Need help?" the soldier asked when he saw the men carrying the litter.
Saunders shook his head as they passed through the front lines. "We're good."
Entering their billet, the sergeant pointed toward the medical unit. "Littlejohn, Billy, Doc…get Kirby to a doctor."
Doc pointed to his sergeant's arm. "You gonna get that looked at?"
Saunders looked at his arm. He kept forgetting about it. "I'll have it checked out later. Go on, get Kirby looked at. Let me know what the doctor says."
He touched Kirby's shoulder reassuringly as the litter passed him. "The rest of you fall out."
When Caje turned to leave, Saunders stopped him.
"Thanks, Caje," the sergeant said uncomfortably. He wasn't used to thanking people.
With a slight dismissive shrug, the Cajun replied, "You've got a lot on your mind, Sarge. Can't expect to remember everything. That's what we're all here for. Cover each other's backs."
Watching Caje and Brockmeyer head back to their bivouac, Saunders could see Lieutenant Hanley coming from his tent. He waited wearily as the officer approached,
The last few days had been a long, hard roller coaster ride. Sometimes he felt like he was finally moving past his grief and depression, and other times it seemed like he was drowning in despair.
But he'd made it through their patrol, and he'd saved Kirby. He'd take that as a sign of progress. Although he felt like this was taking forever, he tried to keep reminding himself that it had barely been a few days since Ann's death. His mother had always said that he was a man of very little patience, just like his father.
His father. When he'd lost his father, he was devastated. But the family had each other to lean on. His mother was their rock. Now his family was over four thousand miles away.
Saunders was alone.
CHAPTER 36
As the Lieutenant approached, his face showed his concern.
"You ok?"
Saunders nodded, taking out his lighter and cigarettes. "I'm ok. Kirby's hurt, but I think he should be alright. Took some metal in his leg."
He lit his cigarette and offered the pack to the officer.
Shaking his head, Hanley said, "Let's walk."
The two walked in silence for a few moments, slowly making their way toward the officers' quarters. When they reached the tents, Hanley ducked inside his, and the sergeant followed.
Both sat on crates near the Lieutenant's cot, and Saunders dropped his helmet at his feet.
Finally, the Lieutenant said with concern, "We could hear the explosions from here."
Saunders took a deep draw on his cigarette. "We got to the bridge with no contact. No sign of krauts anywhere. I was inspecting the bridge when they hit us with a mortar barrage. Probably didn't even know we were there."
He took another long drag on his cigarette. "Pretty sure they were taking out the bridge to keep us from advancing in that direction. Kirby got caught up in it before we could all get off the bridge."
"You think it might be repairable?" Hanley asked hopefully.
Saunders shook his head. "Combat engineers'll have to build a new one. Krauts got it good. Had the exact coordinates."
He took another draw on his cigarette and added with a grim smile, "For what it's worth, the bridge was in great shape. Strong enough and big enough to get the entire Battalion across."
"Was," Hanley said.
Saunders nodded and confirmed, "Was."
"Well," the Lieutenant said, "I'd better let HQ know that the bridge is gone. They'll have to decide if they want to try to rebuild it or head east instead."
He stood up. "Go get some rest. Captain Jampel may want to talk to you later."
The sergeant stood up as well and scooped up his helmet. "I want to see how Kirby's doing first. And then I've got to head over to Ordnance. Lost the Thompson on the bridge."
"Glad it was just the Thompson," Hanley replied.
The sergeant just nodded silently.
Leaving the tent, Saunders took one last draw on his cigarette and then flicked the butt into the dirt as he headed toward the medical unit.
CHAPTER 37
As he neared the med tent, he met Doc coming out. "How is he, Doc?"
With a smile, the medic replied, "He's gonna be alright. He was sweet talking the nurses right up until they had to put him out so they could operate."
The medic took off his helmet and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. "Doctor said it was a good thing you put the tourniquet on right away. And you left that chunk of metal in there. He said there were actually two pieces of metal in there. They'd nicked the artery, but the metal helped keep the bleeding down."
Doc held out his hand with Saunders' belt. "The doctor thought you might want your tourniquet back. One of the nurses cleaned it up the best she could."
The sergeant took the belt and looked at the dark stains still imbedded in the webbing. He slipped it through his pant belt loops. The blood stains would be a good reminder of how close they'd all come…today and every day.
Buckling his belt, the sergeant asked, "Can I see him?"
Doc shook his head. "He's still out. Probably will be for another hour or two."
Doc pointed at his sergeant's arm. "You really should have that checked."
Saunders looked at his arm. "It's just a scrape. I really don't even notice it."
Digging into his med kit, the medic pulled out a sulfa packet and bandage. "Here. If you won't let the doctor look at it, then at least clean it up yourself."
Taking the two packets, Saunders stuffed them into his field jacket pocket. "Ok, I'm heading over to Ordnance to try to get another Thompson. Then I'll head back to our bivouac. Captain Jampel may want to see me. Let me know if anything changes with Kirby."
The afternoon sun was warm on his back as the sergeant made his way to Ordnance. At some point he'd completely dried off. He didn't remember when.
"Quitting time, Buck," Saunders said to the soldier hunkered over a disarray of paperwork.
"You can say that again," Buck replied, sitting up straight, pushing the paperwork aside and setting a large rock on top of all of it.
"I should have just enough time to get cleaned up a little before mess," he added.
"Not before you get me another Thompson and some mags," Saunders said hopefully.
The soldier looked at him in confusion. "Another Tommy? What the heck did you do with the last one?"
Catching sight of the sergeant's sleeve now dark with dried blood, Buck added, "Ah. What happened?"
"Lost it this morning on patrol," Saunders replied.
"You couldn't find it, Sarge?" Buck asked in frustration.
With a faint smile, the sergeant answered, "It went into the river when a bridge I was on got blown out from under me by the krauts. You got another?"
The soldier stared at the sergeant for a long moment, and then with a deep sigh he got up and went to the back of the tent. Rummaging around and moving a few crates, he finally returned with a Thompson and several magazines.
Laying it all on his makeshift table next to his paperwork, Buck leaned forward and said, "They don't grow on trees, you know. Try not to lose this one, Sarge. Not many left."
Saunders picked up the Thompson and smacked in one of the mags. Checking it over, he took the rest of the mags and shoved them into his field jacket pocket.
"I'll try."
CHAPTER 38
Entering their bivouac, Saunders stepped around the card game that had started up again with Littlejohn, Nelson, Brockmeyer and Caje all seated around a blanket on the grass.
"Hey," Littlejohn called out. "You got another Thompson."
Their sergeant held it out for a moment in silent acknowledgement, and then flipped it down to rest against his haversack.
"How's Kirby?" Caje asked.
"Yeah," Brockmeyer said. "Doc shooed us all away and said he'd let us know after the Docs finished getting the fragments out of his leg."
"Kirby's doing ok," the sergeant replied. "He'll be out for a while though."
"That's great," Littlejohn said. "Maybe after mess we can go over there and razz him."
"Wanna join us, Sarge?" Billy asked as he dealt the cards.
Saunders looked down at his bedroll and saw the still unopened letter. He shook his head, touching his injured arm. "Gonna get this cleaned up before Doc yells at me."
He reached down, picked up his letter and tucked it inside his field jacket. "I'm gonna take a walk. You need me, come get me."
"You going out to that pond, Sarge?" Nelson asked, looking up from his cards.
The sergeant just nodded and walked into the afternoon sun.
CHAPTER 39
The squad watched their sergeant leave.
"He seems to be doing ok," Billy said.
"Seems like going on that patrol helped out with whatever it is that's bothering him," Brockmeyer agreed.
"Guess almost getting blown to pieces on that bridge would do it for anyone," Littlejohn replied. "Sure took my mind off everything else."
"He took the letter," Caje noted.
"Yeah," Billy answered. "I saw that too."
"What if it gets him down all over again?" Brockmeyer asked worriedly.
"Then we just keep doing what we've been doing until he's not down,"
Caje replied. "What else can we do?"
"But if he really lost his mom or something," Billy countered, "it could take a long time. He's really close to his mom."
"So, it takes a long time," Caje replied. "We're not going anywhere anytime soon. We'll be here."
The others nodded in agreement, and Littlejohn smiled, pointing to the deck of cards.
"Deal, Billy."
CHAPTER 40
As Saunders made his way to the pond and his tree, he pulled out the sulfa and bandage that Doc had given him. Reaching the old gnarled tree, he gave it an unconscious pat…like an old friend.
He realized that eventually the Company would be pulling out, and he'd be leaving his tree and the pond behind him forever. It would be a difficult moment, but they'd served him well as his place of refuge.
Taking off his utility belt and field jacket, he dropped them on the grass and sat down. Unbuttoning his shirt, he slid his injured arm from the sleeve. It wasn't bleeding, and there didn't seem to be any loose debris or splinters stuck in the wound. Just a long raw scrape down his bicep. Looked clean.
He tore open the sulfa and sprinkled it on the best he could. Ripping open the bandage, he awkwardly bound his arm and tied it off using his teeth. He crumpled the wrappers and tucked them in his shirt pocket.
Looking down as he slowly slid his arm back into his shirt, Saunders saw a corner of the envelope sticking out of his field jacket. As he buttoned his shirt, he leaned back against the tree. When he'd finished, he picked up the letter and looked at the return address. His mother.
Saunders sat and stared at it with concern. He'd just received a letter from her the day he'd left for R&R. He'd returned a day early, and this letter was already waiting for him. His mother wrote him faithfully…but just once a week.
Hesitantly, he carefully opened the envelope. The scent of his mother's perfume faintly reached him, and a flood of memories of home, laughter and her home cooking filled his mind.
In spite of his worry about what the second letter contained, Saunders couldn't help but smile. But as soon as he saw that there were two pieces of paper, his concern grew again. She always said that he had to keep his mind on his work so she kept her letters short. She never wrote more than one page.
He slowly unfolded the papers and began to read.
"Dear Chip,
I know I wrote you already this week, so you must be wondering
about this one. Unfortunately, I have sad news for you.
Our beautiful Jeta has left us…"
Instantly Saunders' eyes welled up and he stopped reading. Looking up at the overhead limbs, he fought back the tears.
Jeta was given to them thirteen years ago by Mr. Arian, the Albanian owner of the little market downtown. Black as coal and filled with boundless joy and energy, the little puppy quickly stole Saunders' heart. She would wait impatiently every day for him to come home from school. After he graduated, she continued to wait for him every day after work.
Once the war broke out and Saunders enlisted, he knew that it would be hard on her, waiting for her best friend who never came home. When he first left for basic, he had no idea how long he'd be gone. Many said that everyone would be home by Christmas. But the war dragged on. One year became two…and now three.
It never occurred to him that they'd never see each other again. He was still coming to grips with losing Ann, and now he had to mourn the loss of his sweet Jeta…all alone.
Saunders wiped his eyes and looked at his mother's letter again.
"…I know how much Jeta meant to you. She missed you terribly and
still went to the front steps every afternoon after all this time. While
you've been away, she took to sleeping in Louise's room every night
next to her bed.
When Louise woke up this morning, well…Jeta didn't. She died
peacefully in her sleep. Other than a little bit of arthritis – and missing
you, the old girl didn't seem to be in any pain.
Chip, I know how hard this is for you, and I feel terrible having to
tell you this way. You have such important and dangerous work to
do, I hate to add this to your heavy burden.
But try not to be sad. Remember that Jeta loved you and still
lives in your heart. Think of the fun times you had together. Her
silly grin that always made you laugh when you came home. The
way she curled up in your lap in the evenings when you tried to
read. You could hardly see the book over her. Remember those
long walks along the river that you took with her, and she'll always
be there with you.
Even though you're thousands of miles away, know you're not
alone. Louise and I, even Joey and Chris, we're all with you
in spirit. And you're with us.
I know that showing your feelings has always been hard for
you. Just like your father. But you need to allow yourself to
feel. Take the time you need to mourn the loss, but remember
what your father used to say.
Life is for the living. When you feel you're ready, just tuck
Jeta into a special corner of your heart. And get back to life.
You need your head about you to do your job and keep you
and your men safe.
Remember you're not alone. We love you,
Mom"
Saunders wiped the tears from his eyes and leaned back against the tree again. He wasn't alone. And his mother was right. As usual. Jeta…and Ann…held special places in his heart now. Places he could go to whenever he wanted.
He read over his mother's letter one more time, wiped his eyes and looked out over the still pond.
"Hey, Sarge?" a voice called out, interrupting his thoughts.
The sergeant looked up to see Littlejohn and Nelson coming toward him across the field.
"Told ya he'd be here," Billy yelled over his shoulder to Doc, Caje and Brockmeyer coming up behind him.
"You need me?" Saunders asked, quickly wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.
"Captain Jampel wants to see you, Sarge," Caje answered.
"But Price said he's still finishing up another meeting," Littlejohn added. "So, you don't have to rush."
"We told Price we knew where you were," Billy said. "Told him we'd come get you."
Saunders stood up and put on his field jacket. Tucking in his shirt and picking up his utility belt, he slipped his mother's letter back into his field jacket pocket.
With one last look out over the quiet pond, and a quick touch of the old, gnarled tree, Sergeant Saunders turned and joined his squad.
He wasn't alone, he thought to himself as he walked with his men. And it was time to get back to life.
THE END
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
My apologies to those readers who like to view Sergeant Saunders more like a super hero. Hardened, fearless and able to handle any situation with ease. If that's your take on this soldier, then you probably get a little uncomfortable reading my stories.
I try to get into the head of a real, flesh and blood person. Saunders the man…the human. Real feelings. Love, hate…fear and pain. As he himself mentions numerous times in the series, every day he's scared. But it doesn't stop him from doing his job the best he can.
Vic Morrow did an excellent job of bringing out the humanity in his character, and I enjoy trying to get into his head to see what he's really thinking and feeling. Hopefully you enjoy my take on Sergeant Saunders as a man.