Random Intensity: Defend the Well!
"Never," Baker thought to himself, "never ever has a hot meal tasted so good." It was late, very late, the only light was that of the few working streetlights and the flashes of light on the horizon from the heavy fighting occurring in a bright crescent somewhere out there, just a few miles from the front line. He watched the flashes for a while, standing in the midst of the town, under the dark form that was the great cathedral of Bastogne just off the town square. He laid his head back on a pile of stone rubble, just watching, letting his thoughts wander over what had occurred, and what had been lost that morning. He let his eyes pull from the sky and looked over down the road, seeing some soldiers huddled around a gas filled hole dug in a garden, flames spitting from it as though summoned from the depths of hell, rubbing their hands in its warmth.
He shivered a bit as he rose, wanting to feel the heat as well, slowly making his way to the tall flames, lighting up the faces of Leggett, Haverson, O'Malley, Coriell, and Nash. He smiled as he walked amongst them, getting smiles and nods as he sat amongst them. "Well gents, how was dinner?" He asked casually, as he received smiles from grease covered lips, showing him their approval of their previous meal.
The rumbles of distant artillery broke the chatter, making them become silent, listening for the whistles and booms of the shells, wondering if they were going to be falling into the deathly quiet town. They breathed a collective sigh of relief as the booms were distant, far off, not aimed at them but aimed as some other picket line several miles outside the town's low walls.
Baker gave a nod, "Gentlemen, take your sleep and take it well, 'cuz we move out of here at daylight thirty, got it?" he informed them in a weary tone as he rose to his feet, and headed off for one of the standing houses. Many of them were missing doors and shutters, having been used for fortifying the defenses of the town's walls.
He leaned up against one of the walls of the place, looking around as he felt his mind beginning to numb with sleep. A roughly made table, a few chairs, a fireplace, few pictures on the walls. It wasn't much, but it would suffice for what he was used to now, the meager conditions of living. He sighed, placing his back to the corner, "Now," he thought, his mind shutting down, "time to get some sleep..." his helmet lay lightly against the brick wall, his eyes closed as he slipped under, the soft tramp of boots sounding dully in his ears, not enough to wake him up, but enough to keep him from sleeping totally. He could hear the floor faintly creak as the noise subsided, and he finally, finally could rest...
When daylight peered in through the window, his eyes creaked open as though they were rusted shit, making him rub at his closed eyes. He blinked once, twice, then looked around to his sleeping comrades. He smiled inwardly at them, his brothers... "Alright! Everybody up! Let's move! On the double!" he shouted as he got to his feet, the five other men getting up from their sleeping positions, Leggett getting up from one of the chairs, Haverson looking blearily up from the opposite corner, giving a massive yawn as he rose and stretched. O'Malley was already awake he saw, standing in the doorway, watching the colors of dawn collecting in the east, the light catching his red hair and making it shine red-gold in the new dawn. Nash's body turned from the top of the table with his eyes still closed as he rose, a rather comic look of dog tiredness on his face as he raised his eyebrows as if to say, "You're asking me to get up, Mac? Well, better call later!"
Nash was a young guy, with barely any hair on his face except for a newly emerging mustache. He was fairly tall, about 5'10"", and skinny, his GI uni hanging loosely off of him. Baker knew Nash from back in New Greenland, Iowa. He was, of course, one of his closest friends from New Greenland Public High School. Nash currently smiled, and said, "Go Raiders," holding up his hand for a high five, which Baker gladly returned with a jovial shout of "Go Raiders!" The mascot of New Greenland High was a Viking warrior.
Baker smiled as he turned and walked out the door, patting O'Malley on the shoulder as he passed him. O'Malley and Hartsock had been the best of friends, and O'Malley had been pinned down along with Nash in their foxhole, unable to help Hartsock while he slowly bled to death at the bottom of Baker's foxhole. O'Malley let out a long sigh before trudging after his NCO, wanting to do something besides sitting and thinking, which was what he had done all night.
A few minutes later, Baker and O'Malley were walking slowly back from division CP with a small letter clutched in Baker's right hand. He opened it again, and quickly scanned the lines. He looked up from the letter with a long sigh, "Great... now we have to go defend some dry well in the middle of the woods, what the hell kind of assignment is this, anyway?" he asked himself, just staring at the coordinates he was given to defend, codenamed "point Charlie". He gave another long sigh, looking up as he walked to the front door, spotting the platoon, ready to go. They had even taken the liberty of repacking his knapsack. "Gents, this is a weapons and ammo only mission, and bring a C and two K-rations with you, we are going to be defending a checkpoint overnight." He said, gaining the small sigh of having to go back into combat once more. "Any questions, gentlemen?" he asked, looking around with a steely eye. He was hoping no questions were going to be asked, because if they knew they were defending an old well, there would be hell to pay. "Ok, no questions." He said simply, "drop your gear, weapons and ammo only, we're moving out!"
And they were off to their post, marching out of the west entrance to the town and then south for about 3 miles. Then they took a bearing of 160 for another 500 yards and they were there. The well looking as though it had been put there, but nothing else was, just a few small stone embankments and other things, the well, which looked as though if you touched it, it would collapse, just loomed in the clearing around it, as though it were a monument to some great accomplishment.
back with the Inu Gang
It had taken them a while, but they made it to the well. It seemed that Inuyasha had led them the wrong way, getting them lost for about an hour, so the sun was just peeking up over the trees when they found it. They jumped into the well with miroku and shippo in Inuyasha's arms, and Sango on Kagome's back.
They watched as the familiar blue light encircled them, but it changed mid stream, seeming to suck violently at the group, contorting their bodies in ways they had never been. When it was all said and done, they were deposited in a place that was very, very cold, chilling Inuyasha's ears and making them burrow deeply into his hair. Kagome was already shivering, and so was Shippo, the half demoness pulling the little demon tight to her chest, trying to keep it warm. "GOD IT'S COLD!" they all seemed to shout at once, huddling at the bottom of the well for warmth.
Two heads poked out above the shivering mass, "Hey fellas, get some rope! There are people down here!" one of them called, then one looked down and held out an arm to them as though telling them to stay put. "Stay calm, we'll get you out!" There was the sound of boots on the ground above them heading in one direction, then the thuds of three bodies against the hard dirt.
Kagome was unbelievably confused, "What the hell is going on, Inuyasha!" she asked, her face worried.
Inuyasha shook his head, "Hey! don't look at me for answers! I should be asking you what the hell just happened in the well!" He growled, looking angrily up at her.
