The Captain IV

July 20, D-Day + 44

"Don't be dismayed at goodbyes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again, after moments or lifetimes, is certain for those who are friends."

Saint-Lo has now become a major supply and transportation hub for the Allied forces since its capture yesterday. Trucks filled with soldiers from fresh divisions were soaring on the dirt road to head to the ever-expanding front, as the engineers were rushing to clean up the rubble of demolished buildings that cluttered the road. Big shot generals—one, two, and occasionally a three star—came into the city to examine the destruction and to map out the next major operation to breakout of Normandy. John MacKay swore he saw a glasses-wearing general that looked like Omar Bradley, hell, it could have been him. But before he could confirm it, he was pulled away by another pressing commander.

MacKay was walking beside the Battalion Commander, Lieutenant Colonel Liam Lincoln, through the ruined city. The colonel came down to Able's HQ and asked MacKay to walk with him to speak upon unit reorganization. MacKay was sure that this would be about replacements given to his company; but then again, a senior NCO or a junior officer could do that job, not a senior officer.

The colonel pulled him aside and took out a pack of cigarettes. "Smoke?" he offered.

"No thanks, sir," he politely refused, he didn't smoke.

He lit the cigarette with his match, "John, I got some news."

"What is it, sir?"

He drew an inhale on the cigarette and spewed the smoke in the air. "Do you recall the last meeting we had at HQ with all of us together? With the other Commanding Officers?"

MacKay nodded slowly, he remembered Morgan Glick of Charlie Company. That was the last time he saw him. From what the survivors of Charlie Company said, he had a quick death, he took a machinegun burst to the head. If there weren't witnesses present, the only way one would recognize him was his muscular football frame of his body.

Lincoln continued, "Remember I mentioned about that Kraut Captain, Schultz, and his King Tiger?"

"I do, sir."

"Turns out that the Armored column you spotted leaving Saint-Lo, turned out to have been led by that man."

"Really?" MacKay thought back on it. Yesterday, after Able got their mail, MacKay brought Conti along with him to scope out the progress of the 3rd Battalion. They had just managed to capture the last points of the city. The city had finally fallen silent. Conti suddenly got his attention in the opposite direction and handed him a pair of binoculars. MacKay looked through them to spot an armored column consisting of Panthers exiting the town to the west. He ordered Conti to radio in the Air Corps to take the column out.

"Didn't the flyboys take them out, sir? I remember feeling the carpet bomb from inside the city."

"Not all of them. They're like cockroaches, you get a giant stone to kill them and a few survive. Anyway, Division is sending out a regiment to tackle them, eventually, we may be called in to support them."

"If we do, we'll need some heavy armor."

"I know, I can get some TDs for us if we need 'em."

"Yes, sir."

"John."

"Sir?"

"This whole drive for this city of crossroads… look around, John. Does this seem like a city that we risked so many men to take? From the hedgerows, to 1-9-2, and now to this?"

MacKay looked around at the rubble, "No, sir. Not at all."

Lincoln sighed, "We lost so many men trying to get to this position, and now I'll have to lose even more men to make up for it."

"Sir?"

"John, I have to take men away to make more. Well… Charlie Company has been… you know what I mean, John. It's been tough after their loss; this battalion isn't the same with just three out of four companies. Charlie Company needs to be rebuilt, and we only have seven survivors from the original Charlie Company, the highest ranking is an ordinary sergeant. But an infantry battalion needs four companies, and I need to reorganize Charlie as quick as I can."

"I understand, sir."

"Well, John, here's my plan. I want to take veterans of the battalion and fold them into the new refitted Charlie. These veterans will be the backbone behind Charlie. That being said, I need a valuable, experienced combat officer to lead Charlie Company, and John…"

His eyes widened. Did Lincoln really mean him? "Sir," MacKay interrupted, "But I'm the C.O of Able, sir."

"I know you are, John. But I don't mean you. The man I'm talking about being in charge of the new Charlie Company is your X.O, Lieutenant O'Leary."

Ralph…? His jaw hung low, "Sir…?"

"After your after-action report you made when O'Leary tied in your flank through the hedgerows with Hill 192, I kept a tab on O'Leary. And when Able attacked the Hill, I watched through my field glasses as he led the charge up the hill. And I hear he did well in attacking the western sector of Saint-Lo. He's a good man, that O'Leary. I want him as a Commanding Officer. I want the new Charlie Company to have a battle-hardened officer leading the way."

"Yes, he is that, sir… But I…"

Lincoln frowned, "Do you disagree, John?"

"I 100% believe that O'Leary is Company Commander quality, sir… but, what I'm saying is nothing against him. I mean it, sir. It's just… he's the most experienced platoon leader I have, the others are replacements. And he is my X.O as well. He's… crucial to Able, sir. And I'm already short an officer, and with him gone—"

"Not to worry, John. I'm bringing in 1st Lieutenant Bob Gittens to take O'Leary's place."

MacKay's eyes narrowed, "From Intelligence?"

"Yep, the very same. Experienced combat officers are hard to spare in our regiment, taking some from my own battalion is stressing enough. Do you have any first lieutenants?"

"No, sir."

"Then Gittens can be your XO."

"I… I… I understand, sir."

"I know it's a change, John. But it's a change that's going to happen, and I need you to work with it. I'll see to it that O'Leary is trained in administration of the tasks of Company Commander as we reform Charlie, but he'll be adjusted to the position by the time all the pieces are in place."

"I understand, sir…"

"Also, as I mentioned, I'm having veterans forming the backbone of the new Charlie Company. I know this seems like a lot; well, frankly it is. But I'm asking all Company Commanders to nominate three of their NCOs to be folded into Charlie Company."

No… you can't be serious… no… He nodded slowly, "Three NCOs, huh…"

"Yes, preferably buck sergeants and corporals. Most of the enlisted men will be slated from replacements."

"When do you need them by, sir?"

"Now, preferably."

"Now?"

"Yes. The division is finally getting a much-needed break, we need to refit and reorganize, pronto. The sooner, the better, John."

Son of a bitch!

"See to it, Captain."

MacKay bobbed his head with sucked teeth. "Yes, sir!"

The lieutenant colonel gave him a smirking nod and turned around on his heels to attend his business; he failed to realize the mild glare that the Captain was giving him. Every now and then, Lieutenant Colonel Lincoln could get under his skin with his haughtiness masked behind his orders. He needed his men, immediately? Why the hell is he throwing this on him at this short notice?!

MacKay growled, placing his hands on his hips. Damn it all! He couldn't believe his "luck".

He needed O'Leary. No other officer has been with him longer in combat; he's reliable, sharp, experienced, brave, and his men utterly respect him. The absolute best qualities in an infantry officer, and now he was losing him? MacKay wasn't aware he was gnashing his teeth at the thought. And that wasn't all. He had to lose three other NCOs, as well as Conti. And more replacements were coming in. Pain was welling in the corner of his head, what would all of this mean for the future and effectiveness of Able Company?

"Ralph, come over here."

O'Leary was conversing with his platoon sergeant, Fischer. He looked up and asked, "What is it, sir?"

"Just… follow me over here, will you?"

The captain escorted the lieutenant over to an isolated spot by a destroyed building.

MacKay inhaled through his nostrils. "Ralph…" he pointed toward a pile of rubble, "Take a seat, Ralph."

"Okay…?"

Both men sat on the dusty rubble. O'Leary took off his helmet and wiped his sweating brow. MacKay began playing with his hands. "Ralph, I never did tell you… huh… guess I never really had a chance to tell you."

"Uh, tell me what, sir?"

"I'm mighty glad that you were transferred to Able." The Captain began to chuckle softly, "Two months ago you were just a junior supply officer, and you're currently the Executive Officer of a rifle company. Funny how that works, I believe that's your leadership talent. And now… ah hell… two months ago you were just a junior supply officer, and now you're going to be a Commanding Officer of a rifle company."

"Sir…?"

"I'm not the only one who thinks you're a good leader. Lieutenant Colonel Lincoln has been eyeing you for the past two weeks. He was impressed with how you assaulted the hedgerows to get Able into position to the hill, how you led 1st platoon up Hill 192, and how you carried your men through this city. He was so impressed that he wants to give you a command… and he's making you the C.O. of the newly reformed Charlie Company."

MacKay opened up his canteen and drank from it. Once he finished, he looked at O'Leary's reaction. "I know, Ralph. I was surprised too. But you know that Charlie has to be reformed, an infantry battalion can't consist of just three companies. And the Colonel wants an experienced officer to lead these men. And he believes having an officer from this very battalion will help cohesion. In fact, he's gathering NCOs from Baker and Dog to help reform Charlie; also, I'm tasked with taking three NCOs from Able to join you in Charlie. The rest will be predominantly replacements."

MacKay continued after clearing his throat, "Since you're going to be in command, I'll let you pick the three NCOs you want to come with you. I also understand any apprehension of picking them, I suggest getting two sergeants and a corporal. Oh man… such a responsibility, it is quite daunting, Ralph. It truly is. But you are a natural born leader, Ralph. You'll do well in this new position; I am damn sure of it!"

O'Leary didn't say a word.

"Any questions, Ralph?"

"Sir… I… I'm leaving Able?"

"Yeah, yeah you are…"

The First Lieutenant was six feet and four inches, yet he was shivering as if he was in a blizzard. "I'm leaving Able… why me, sir?"

"Colonel Lincoln noted your performance in the past weeks and believed that you would be a great Company Commander. I agree with him."

"Sir—"

"I don't like it, Ralph. I want you to stay with Able, I really do. But orders are orders. Besides, I really do believe that you would be a great C.O, I do."

The lieutenant began to stammer, "I-I… I can't b-believe… I'm just now g-getting used to be an X.O, and then bam, I'm a C.O now? I wouldn't even know what the hell to do…"

"Colonel Lincoln ensures that he will see you properly trained in administrative procedures. This reformation of Charlie isn't going to happen overnight. More likely, you will be off the line for a solid month for reorganizing and retraining. You'll have time to learn."

"Who'll be taking over 1st Platoon then? Who will be your new X.O?"

"I'm getting a replacement officer from Intelligence, 1st Lieutenant Gittens. He'll take over the platoon and be my new X.O."

"Him? He's taking over… I, well… I was from Supply, and I turned out well. With Fischer here, perhaps Gittens will as well."

"That's right. You'll be surprised where you find command talent. Now, who do you want to join you in Charlie?"

"I-I-I don't… I don't know, sir. If I strengthen Charlie with three good NCOs, then I'll weaken Able."

"Yeah, that's the dilemma, but it has to be done. And don't take the NCOs that you can't use for the sake of Able, that won't help out the boys in Charlie."

O'Leary rested his chin in his hands, his eyes focused on the lounging men of Able Company. He sat there, watching them for minutes in silence; MacKay was looking at him with patience.

O'Leary raised up, "If you don't mind, sir, I'll take Staff Sergeant Hilberman from 3rd Platoon. I know the enlisted men don't quite like him, but he's not a problem for officers. Plus, I know he follows things to a T. I'll take him. Then I'll take Corporal Filkins from 1st Platoon. He's a good man with a good place in 1st Platoon, but I believe I can use him better in Charlie. And lastly… shit… I so wish I could take Staff Sergeant Fischer with me. He's a great Platoon Sergeant, but I know that his place is firmly in 1st Platoon, I can't take him. So I'll take Sergeant Luce from 1st Platoon. He's a good squad leader, but I think I can utilize him well with me, sir."

"Are you sure about these three?"

His eyes had steel behind them, "I am."

"Good. You just made your first big decision as a Company Commander. It will not be the last."

"Sir… I," his hand was trembling, "I was placed in charge of about thirty men, and I would have to give commands that would send them to certain death. But now, I'm being thrusted into a position where I'm responsible for five times, six times as many men. MacKay, I… I don't know…"

He rested his hand on the lieutenant's shoulder, "Ralph, many things in this world are given to us for the wrong or unforeseen reasons. What we do with such things, that is the marking of a man. This is a truly heavy burden to place on anyone. To see men die on your orders, to second guess yourself after every engagement, to write the dozens and dozens and dozens of letters home to grieving families. Too heavy is this burden. Only heavy men can bear this heavy burden. You must be strong, Ralph, do not think of how many you lost or will lose; think of the men that you have saved and will save from such actions. That is the only way your soul will survive."

"Sir, before I leave. May I, may I say a few words to my boys?"

MacKay nodded gently, "Of course, Ralph. Say whatever you need."

"Thank you, sir."

MacKay spotted Conti walking in his general direction and he called over his first sergeant.

"So how did ya chit-chat with the Colonel go, sir?" Conti asked him.

MacKay sighed, "Not well, Joe."

"How so?"

"He said that he's reforming Charlie Company, and that veterans from Able, Baker, and Dog will form the backbone behind the new Charlie."

"Really? And who's to be the new C.O?"

"Our very own O'Leary."

He saw how that surely caught Conti off-guard. "Seriously?"

"Seriously, Joe."

"Jeezus Christ… how did the kid take it?"

"As well as you think. His first comment was about how he was leaving Able. Grief painted his face, Joe."

"I can imagine. My God… So, who's gonna take O'Leary's place?"

"Gittens. A guy from Intelligence."

"Christ…"

"I know. But… I'm trying to be hopeful. O'Leary was Supply, and looked how well he turned out."

"I had my misgivins about O'Leary when he first joined, and I was proven wrong. But that's rare though, MacKay. 'Gittens'? His name sounds like a pansy."

"Joe…"

"Well it does."

MacKay snickered lowly, "Knock it off."

"A'ight, a'ight, I will. Man, 1st Platoon ain't gonna like this."

"I know. And that's not all?"

"Wait, there's more?"

"Yep, I also have to give up three NCOs from Able to go fill in Charlie."

"Ya kiddin' me? Oh shit, no you ain't. You ain't kiddin, sir…"

"Wish I was, Joe. Baker and Dog are doing the same as well…"

"But I'm leavin' too!"

"I know…"

"Son of a bitch…" he groaned, then exhaled in irritation. "A'ight, who did ya pick, sir?"

"I didn't pick. I left the choice up to O'Leary since they'll be in his company now. Wow, that's so weird to say… 'his company'… O'Leary is taking with him Filkins, Luce, and Hilberman."

"Good on him for pickin' Hilberman, could never stand that hissin' kissass."

MacKay shook his head with a mild smirk. He spotted Ruby from 3rd Platoon and called him over, "I believe I spotted Sergeant Crane arrive today from the aid station; I need you to fetch him for me, immediately."

"Yes, sir," Ruby said, and turned on his heels.

"Okay, sir," said Conti, "I'll let you go."

"No, I want you here for this."

"Here for what, sir?"

"Joe… it's time…"

"What are you— oh…"

"Yeah."

The lines in his face began to droop, his shoulders slumped, he sucked his teeth in a near pouty expression. Conti grumbled, "This is how a man dies, with bars pinned to his collar."

"Oh stop it, Joe."

"I'm serious, MacKay. Next time ya see me, ya wouldn't even recognize me. They'll beat out all individuality from my noggin' to make me the perfect officer."

"Well if Fort Riley didn't do that, nothing on God's great green earth will do it for you."

Both men shared a good chuckle from that. Once it ended, the lines on Conti's face drooped again, "Do you know where they'll be sending me?"

MacKay shook his head.

"Of course not. That's the Army for ya. They may shove me in Intelligence just to get a rise outta me."

"With your experience, you'll probably be transferred to another combat unit in France."

"Yeah, like the Officer's Mess…"

Technical Sergeant Lloyd Crane finally arrived, the second senior sergeant in Able Company. His left arm was still in a sling from his fall, yet he carried his carbine slung over his right shoulder for appearance's sake. He would be damned if the men thought him weak because of his bum arm.

He nodded to both of them, "Captain, Top. What can I do for you?"

"How's your arm?"

"Doesn't bother me, sir."

"That's not what he asked, Crane," Conti growled.

"It's getting better, sir."

"I asked Conrad about your injury, he told me it should be five to six weeks for you to be fully healed. You heard that, right?"

"…Yes, sir."

"And yet you're out here instead at a hospital?"

"I'm not leaving the men, sir."

"How the hell you gonna fight with a bum arm?" Conti snorted.

Crane gave a look of annoyance, but slapped his 1911 in its holster on his hip, "I can still use my pistol if it comes to it. Besides, Top, my throat ain't hurt, I can still bark out orders. But I'm not leaving my men. That's a fact."

MacKay and Conti looked at one another. Conti grinned smugly to the captain, "Looks like we got a tough sonuvabitch right here. Thinks he's too good for a hospital."

MacKay didn't smile, but looked to Crane, "You think you still can exercise the authority and respect of the men, even with a bad arm?"

"Without a doubt."

"I can see the fire in your eyes, Crane. I should send you back to the hospital, but you'll just bust out."

"Yes, sir."

"Why?"

"I… I owe it to the boys of 3rd Platoon, alive and dead. I sat back and watched Lieutenant Sleeman crack, and that got good men wounded and killed. I dislocated my arm and was pretty much useless, as I watched a young man give his life to save the company. I will not be useless again."

"I understand, Crane. You still are going back to the hospital, I don't care how many times you escape, I'll keep sending you back. But I'm glad of your convictions, Crane."

"Sir?"

"You see, Crane, Conti received a commission. And today he's going to have his stripes traded for bars."

Crane's eyes went wide. He swiveled his head to the Top, Conti crankily nodded. MacKay continued, "And Army policy dictates that an NCO that is commissioned must leave his original unit. So, this means that you will be trading your two rockers for three rockers and a diamond. How does that sound… First Sergeant Crane?"

"Th-That sounds… good. Thank you, Captain! And thank you Top, I mean… Lieutenant—"

Conti held out his hand in a stopping motion, "I'm still a First Sergeant until I leave, Crane."

"My mistake, thank you then, Top! I will definitely accept being Able's new First Sergeant. But, uh, if I'm the new Top, then who will be 3rd Platoon's new Platoon Sergeant."

Conti grunted, "Well we're hoping that you would have a solid recommendation."

"Then I would suggest Sergeant Duhaney to be promoted to Platoon Sergeant of 3rd Platoon."

MacKay bobbed his head, "I see. I will acknowledge that choice."

Crane gave them a polite smile. He looked to Conti, "So… you're leaving today, Conti? When?"

"Soon… Don't worry, y'all will see meh leavin'."

"So, should I tell the men?"

MacKay turned to Conti, "Your choice, Joe."

It seemed as if he was in deep reflection. He then answered, "Naw. It ain't worth seeing me depart, don't tell 'em."

Crane nodded, then turned to leave, "Captain. Lieutenant."

"It's Serge— Oh what the hell…"

"Oh yeah, Crane?" MacKay said.

He turned around, "Yes, sir?"

"I spoke to Colonel Rivers yesterday, about Private Lyle and what you so adamantly told me."

Crane's mouth dropped and he walked up close to the Captain, his eyes begging for information, "Yeah?"

"He was very impressed with that young man and will conduct a more thorough investigation into the matter. But, from what I gathered, Private Shawn Lyle is definitely receiving the DSC; but seeing as he gave his life in his efforts and if Rivers finds out just a little bit more, then that DSC most likely will be evolving into the Big One."

The usual solemn Crane was now nodding slowly and sincerely with an expression of humbled pride. "After all he did for us, and for me, the kid definitely deserves the Big One. Thank you, Captain. Thank you."

All of 1st Platoon was there to see off their two buddies, and of course, their Platoon Leader. They had gathered around with sour faces and confused eyes at the news they were told. The two NCOs of 1st Platoon that were being transferred, Filkins and Luce, had the most sorrowful face of the lot. O'Leary was telling his men to not get discouraged and that he would see them again, just as Charlie's C.O, that good-natured comment didn't help though.

Even men of 2nd Platoon began to circle around 1st Platoon, hearing the news from gossiping soldiers. They too were extending bitter goodbyes to the three men that they respected.

Even though they had received their mail just yesterday, MacKay could feel the morale in the company beginning to drop.

Driving down the road was a major in the backseat of a jeep. The jeep stopped in front of MacKay and the major waved to him.

"How's it going, MacKay?"

"Well, it's going, sir." MacKay replied. He recognized the man, he was Major Peralta from the Regimental HQ, an aid under Colonel Rivers. He was a genial man who were heavy bifocals on his face that seemed to enlarge his eyes.

Major Peralta chuckled and adjusted his glasses, "Well, it'll get better, Captain. You got to keep looking on the bright side of life, every now and then."

He made an amused grunt, "I'll remember that, sir. It's just… I was told by Colonel Lincoln that I got to transfer four of my guys out of my company, today. And I'm wondering, is the whole regiment doing this or—"

"Yep, the whole regiment. Actually, I hear it's from the Division. We didn't have enough time at Cherbourg to fully reorganize and recoup our losses from D-Day. Now that we got Saint-Lo, we now have the chance. A lot of our outfits are being shaken up, Captain, especially at HQ. People are transferring everywhere, decorations are being handed out left and right, new guys are coming in, and old guys are being promoted."

"I see…"

"Speaking of, I got these shiny brass bars for a certain Joe Conti, I've been asked to pin these on him and read him the commendation of officers. Where is he? I need to take him back to HQ."

So, it's time… "Well, Major, he's over the—" MacKay stopped, his eyes resting on the tired men of his outfit. He noticed Conti with a face of displeasure as he looked out open-endedly into the sky. These sour men, was this his unit?

MacKay continued, "Uh, actually, sir… if you wouldn't mind, can you give him the promotion for Conti here?"

Peralta blinked, "Really? Why's that?"

"I think it would do the men good if they stood and witnessed their own being promoted. I need it for the morale of my company. Please, sir?"

"Uh, sure. Why not!" Peralta exited his jeep with the hand-size box within his jacket pocket.

"Thank you, sir! Just let me get, Conti!" He turned to Conti and inhaled mightily before yelling, "First Sergeant Conti! Front and center!"

The sudden shouting in the otherwise quiet sector had turned many heads of the men. Conti narrowed his eyes at first, but then quickly hustled when he noticed the major. He approached both men and stared at attention with his helmet by his side, "Sir! The First Sergeant reporting as ordered, sir!"

"At ease, First Sergeant."

Conti stood at ease. MacKay took a slight glance around him, the men of 1st Platoon and half of 2nd Platoon were watching. They mostly had uninterested looks on their faces, but they were watching them. He continued, "First Sergeant, this is Major Peralta from Regiment. He has certain news that he has to tell you."

Conti saluted the major, "Good evening, sir!"

Peralta gave the seasoned sergeant a genial smile. "At ease. Sergeant, it has come to the attention of your superiors that you have shown extraordinary bravery and exemplary leadership quality in the field and in a capacity that inspires the men. It is for these reasons listed that you have been conferred the honor of a battlefield commission to that of officer."

Conti's lips were tight, he inhaled through his nostrils strongly before speaking, "Sir, is it time?"

"It is, Sergeant."

Conti nodded solemnly; he gave a look to MacKay. A look that had a tinge of fear behind it. Conti told the major, "I understand, sir. So, I guess we'll be on our way to the HQ, huh?"

"Well, not this time."

"Oh?"

"Nope, we'll have it right here and right now."

Conti's jaw dropped. "E-Excuse me, sir? Here and now?! You're doing it here? In front of all the men?"

"Yes, Conti, for your Captain wanted it that way."

Conti was stammering at MacKay, "B-B-But why? Y-Ya didn't—"

"Of course, I didn't have to, I wanted to. Don't think your going to slink on out of Able without so much as a goodbye," he ended with a smile that seemingly bordered on a good-natured wickedness. "There's no way you'll skip out on your battlefield commission, Conti!" he said the last part with a louder volume.

Conti gnashed his teeth at that remark.

"Whoa! Did you here that?" someone remarked.

"I think so, did he really say that?" another soldier said.

"What's going on? Wha'cha all gawking at?" asked a private who just walked over there.

"I think… Conti's getting promoted."

"Get the hell outta here…" he replied, his shocked tone evident.

"Promoted to a Looie!"

"Get the hell outta here!" his disbelief rising.

Another Able soldier chimed in, "It must be, look! That's a major and he has a small box in his hands! Oh my God, the Top's actually getting a commission!"

"I wish they can hold up! I'm going to find Ruby, Duffy, and Badmouth! They need to see this!"

Peralta's geniality slowly disappeared and out came the serious, professional major. Conti stowed his gnashing teeth, but still glared at the smiling form of MacKay.

The major cleared his throat and his voice reverberated, "Conti, Joseph, F. Do you stand ready to receive the commission of an officer? To uphold the traditions and timeless oaths of an officer as a member of the Armed Forces of the United States of America?"

Conti inhaled through his nose but eyed the major. "I am."

And before MacKay and Conti knew it, all of Able Company was present. From the three-man scouts of the jeep, to the machinegun section, to the engineers and riflemen, and the radio operators and medics; the news had spread like wildfire and everyone was watching with interest on the sight that was unfolding. The replacements were silent and slack-jawed, the Omaha veterans were murmuring softly to one another in wide-eyed fascination. Lieutenant O'Leary and MacKay were the only ones smiling.

Conti had visible irritation at the onlookers around him, but he tried to mask it the best he could. He stood up straight and proud as the Major read out the commission from a folded piece of paper.

"Do repeat after me, Sergeant: "I, state your name, do solemnly swear…"

" 'I, Joseph Conti, do solemnly swear…'"

"That I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States…"

" 'That I'll support and defend the Constitution of the United States…' "

"Against all enemies, foreign or domestic…"

" 'Against all enemies, foreign or domestic…' "

"That I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same…"

" 'That I'll bear true faith and allegiance to the same…' "

"That I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion…"

" 'That I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion…' "

"And that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter."

" 'And that I'll well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter.' "

"So help me God."

" 'So help me God.' "

Peralta put the paper away and opened up the box that contained the two brass bars. Conti's eyes momentarily dipped unto the bars, before they returned looking straight ahead. Peralta took out bars and pinned them to his collars with neat precision.

The major took a step back and proudly examined the man. "As of today, you have been honorably discharged as an Enlisted Man and have been commissioned as a gentleman by the act of Congress." Major Peralta gave him a proud smile, "Congratulations, Second Lieutenant Conti."

He saluted sharply, in which Conti returned with passion. Peralta then extended his arm out, in which Conti shook it firmly. He gave the Major a polite smile, "Thank you very much, sir."

At that, MacKay walked up to the new officer and patted him on the back several times, "Congratulations, Lieutenant." Then held his hand out to shake.

"Thank you, Captain," Conti shook his hand and gave a wry smirk that playfully spoke If I could only kick your ass for what you did to me.

MacKay's eyes veered off and faced the crowd. Conti spun around to be greeted by the sight of the entire company watching his promotion. His mouth was falling in a state of bewilderment, everyone watching him was silent as a crypt.

Then, Sergeant Duck Hudson stepped forward with a serious expression. He then cheered like a sports fan and enthused, "That's how it's done, Lieutenant!"

The entirety of Able Company suddenly erupted into fanfare and cheers.

Conti's eyes were to the ground. Only MacKay could hear Conti grumbling, "Ya miserable bastards…" It looked like the corner of Conti's mouth was rising as he said it, the lines of his face disappearing for the moment, he was glowing.

"Woohoo! All right, Lieutenant Conti!"

"Oh man, 'Lieutenant Conti' has a nice ring to it, don't it?"

"Hey, Spencer, where's my 20 bucks?! I told ya Conti wouldn't remain a Sergeant before the war was over!"

"Bullshit, Santiago! You implied he would be demoted, not promoted!"

"Doesn't matter, he ain't a Sergeant no more, pay up, ya bastard!"

"L-T, L-T, L-T!" Cunningham and Franks chanted, as if it was a sports game.

Conti was fighting hard against a smile, "Ya miserable bastards…" he repeated once more.

MacKay was smiling hard now, this was the spirit that he wanted Able to have. He peered his eyes from man-to-man, he even witnessed Blackwell of all people, giving Conti a nod of approval. What was the world coming to?

He spotted Crane laughing with Duhaney. MacKay bellowed, "Able Company!"

Conti took the cue, "Shut up, ya bastards! NOW!"

The area quickly quieted. MacKay chuckled, "Conti made officer, but still got the heart of an NCO." Several of the men laughed. MacKay continued, "With now, Second Lieutenant Conti, he will be transferred out of Able Company, no longer our illustrious First Sergeant. But, we have already found a man to take up the mantle as Top Sergeant. And that man is Lloyd Crane, Able Company's new First Sergeant!"

The company whooped and cheered. Many men patted the christened sergeant on the back, and despite his tough exterior, Crane was smiling through the praise.

MacKay finished his clapping. He cleared his throat and held out his arms, as if he was a politician. "Listen up, men! Able Company is changing, there's no denying that. We're losing men that can never truly be replaced. O'Leary, Hilberman, Filkins, Luce, and Conti. These five men have been with Able since Omaha, their spirit and strength made Able what it is. And though they leave, they'll always have a home here. Won't they? I mean, seriously, what other unit in the Battalion always has the track record of going first into battle, huh? What other unit in the Regiment gets hit by Jerry but keeps on getting up, huh? What other unit in the Division was the first one to break through Hitler's Atlantic Wall on goddamn D-Day?"

"Able Company!" someone shouted.

Everyone present roared in agreement.

"Damn straight!" MacKay continued, "And it is the men of Able Company who have done so. All of us! When you join Able, you are always able to accomplish anything! Be it big or small, nothing stands in our way. Come hell or highwater, we stand together! We stand tall! We stand Able! Now and forever!

MacKay pointed to Conti, and smiled warmly at him, "Always Able?"

The company answered back, "Always Able!"

MacKay pointed to him again, "Always Able?"

"ALWAYS ABLE!" the men shouted louder.

Conti was now smiling. The new lieutenant shouted into the air, "Always Able?"

"ALWAYS ABLE!"

The men all roared as if they won a championship game. They leaped in the air, slapping one another in the backs and chests, whooping and grunting like animals, their cheers were their battle cry. They came forth and hugged the departing men with wide smiles, hard laughter, and some with tear-filled eyes; even Sergeant Hilberman received hugs and back-pats, even from his own men. What a time to be alive.

Conti turned around with a cocked eyebrow and a smirk, "Leave it to you, MacKay, to turn somethin' somber into something joyful. How the hell do you do that?"

MacKay gave Conti an innocent and honest shrug, "I rightfully don't know myself, to be honest."

Major Peralta approached Conti from behind, "Lieutenant, the paperwork for your commission has already been filled out at Regiment, but you'll still need to fill stuff out on your part. And from there, we will get you situated in what it takes in being an officer."

"So, I guess we're leaving now, sir?"

"Correct."

"Permission to say my farewells, sir?'

"Granted."

The men of Able surrounded Conti as if a frenzied mob, giving him their regards and reacquainting him with all the curses he cursed on them, all the threats he threatened them with, all the stories that of Conti that gave Able it's uniqueness. And John MacKay was laughing the whole time.

Once the men were settled, Conti turned back to MacKay. The grizzled man gnashed his teeth softly and awkwardly, trying to find the best words to say. "So… this is it, huh? After this, I'm transferred to whatever shithole exists in the ETO. I… I betcha we'll never see each other again."

"Oh I don't know about that, Joe. I have a good feeling we'll run into each other again."

"Yeah? How do you know that?"

The Captain smiled, "Just a feeling. This isn't farewell."

"Always the optimist."

"Hey, somebody has to be."

MacKay extended his hand out with a warm smile, "Wear those bars proudly, Joe."

Conti shook it firmly with an earnest smile, "Ha! Not on your life, sir."

Both of them enjoyed a laugh. They relinquished their handshake and MacKay snapped a salute. Conti saluted back, his spine and arm were straighter then when he saluted the major.

"Good luck, Joe."

"Thanks, MacKay."

Both of them dropped their salute. Conti nodded to Peralta, who was already in the passenger seat of his jeep. Conti placed his Thompson in the back of the jeep and stepped inside. He reclined in the backseat and stared on at MacKay. The driver turned on the ignition and the jeep sputtered to life.

"Thank you for my request, sir," MacKay said to Peralta.

"My pleasure, John. It was interesting seeing you speak to your men like that. I can tell they're gonna miss their ex-first sergeant."

"Yeah, they will, I ask that whoever at Regiment is in charge of repositioning commissioned men, will find a good use for him. Please don't stick him behind a typewriter, or you'll find bits of his skull and brain on the keyboards five minutes later."

Peralta gave him a nodding smile, "I understand, Captain. I'll do my best."

Peralta told the driver to drive away. The jeep began to accelerate, Joe gave a last look to John. As the jeep turned around and began driving away, the entire company waved and voiced their fare-thee-wells to their loyal, grizzled, one-of-a-kind first sergeant.

O'Leary came from behind MacKay, "And there he goes, ready to give HQ absolute hell."

"Yeah, there he goes."

"And I'm next."

"Yeah, you are. But you got about an hour before Lincoln comes back and scoops you and your picks up. Hey, don't look like that, Ralph. You'll be fine. You got the stuff to be a C.O. You'll be fine. It's like your current position, just more people in your command. Trust your NCOs and remember your training. You'll do just fine, Ralph."

"Th-Thank you, sir."

"Yeah, no problem."

"I wish I can be half the C.O you are."

"But you already are. Ralph, my goal as a C.O is to make sure that all the men under my command are better than I am." MacKay turned around, the jubilant men were still high in spirits, sharing laughter and joy amidst the most agonizing war in human history. Here, they were all better than him. Here, they were all closer than brothers. Here, they were all his sons. MacKay had never felt prouder. "And I think I have accomplished that."