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.
Hope you are enjoying the squad's newest struggle through France. Although these stories generally require a lot of research, I always enjoy sending the Combat! squad on journeys to see where it takes them. I may launch them, but they take it from there and I'm just along for the ride. So enjoy the ride and let me know what you think in a review. And thanks again, Donna. My lifesaver.
DARK HORSE
Part 2
CHAPTER 14
Caje knew that their sergeant had given him and Steller the longest and most difficult route back. But he understood why and agreed with the sergeant's decision.
Since he'd also been in the back of the truck when they were being transported, it didn't go unnoticed that most of the towns that they had passed were on their side of the road. The other side that all of the rest were using was mostly filled with pastures, farmland and individual farmhouses.
The Cajun had the best chance of using this to find assistance for the two of them. He knew that he'd have to move very cautiously, but the hope was that he could connect with someone in one of the villages along the way.
The drawback, of course, was that all of those villages were currently German occupied. He'd have to pick that 'someone' very carefully. With caution and a lot of luck the civilian would connect them to the Maquis.
It didn't take long before a steeple came into view over the trees. But as they drew nearer to the outskirts of the town, Caje could see that it was swarming with krauts. It looked like the village was possibly being used as a command post of some kind. Or a field hospital.
Caje quickly decided to give it a very wide berth and keep moving. The two soldiers continued to make their way slowly through German territory.
When a second town came into view, the Cajun was more hopeful. The German presence seemed minimal. From their vantage point he could only see two vehicles…a Kübel and a Blitz. Nothing bigger.
"This looks good," Caje whispered to Steller as the two looked down at the small village. "Let's get closer."
Steller nodded his silent agreement and the two soldiers moved quietly through the brush, heading toward the town.
CHAPTER 15
Saunders found himself holding his breath. Curled forward against his knees, his back was beginning to ache. He knew that Kirby was in an even tighter position and he was wounded on top of it. But neither soldier was about to complain.
From the voices, Saunders could tell that the Germans were a mere few feet away from them. He tried to mentally will them to move on. As if reading his thoughts, the voices slowly began to fade.
Just not fast enough to suit the two escaped prisoners. Both men stayed frozen in place for what seemed an eternity. Kirby's wound and back were screaming, but he waited patiently for his sergeant to give the all clear.
Finally Saunders took a deep breath…and a chance. Pushing the brush aside as slowly and quietly as he could, he leaned out and looked around. Dusk was beginning to settle in and the wildlife was quieting down for the evening.
As Kirby waited, Saunders checked the entire area that he could see for any signs of movement. Feeling that it was safe to come out, the sergeant slid from under the rock, stood up and arched his back to stretch his aching muscles.
"You ok?" he whispered to his BAR man as he helped him out of their niche.
"I think so," Kirby replied and then groaned. "Feel like a giant pretzel though. Don't know if I'll ever be able to stand up straight again." Still sitting on the ground, he arched his back as well and grunted.
"Glad it was just the two of us. No way anyone else would've fit in there. Practically needed a shoehorn to get the two of us in there."
"How's the leg?" Saunders asked, kneeling down to check Kirby's wound. "That bandage is soaked. Let me change it."
Pulling a bandage out of his pocket, the sergeant looked around nervously. Good enough place as any. He'd just have to work fast. Taking the blood soaked bandage off, Saunders kept listening for any unusual sounds.
"Keep your eyes open," he said as he worked. But the BAR man was already swiveling his head watching their surroundings closely.
"How's it look?" Kirby asked, trying to take a quick peek down at his leg.
Saunders took the old bandage, wiped the wound a little and threw the blood soaked bandage into the rock cave. "Actually doesn't look too bad. An inch farther over and it would have missed you completely."
"Just my luck," Kirby huffed. "Shoulda zigged…instead I zagged."
"If we could keep you off your feet, the bleeding would probably stop completely." The sergeant ripped the new bandage open, crumpled the paper and tossed it into the cave.
"Yeah, like that's gonna happen," Kirby laughed. "We'll just flag down the next Yellow Cab that comes along."
"No taxis," Saunders smiled as he worked. "But you've got a ride…me."
Realizing what he was saying, the BAR man protested. "Sarge, you can't carry me all that way. We still have, what…another sixteen miles or more?"
"Just about," the sergeant agreed. "I'm gonna tie this tight. Tell me if it's too tight. Don't want to cut off your circulation."
Kirby persisted. "Even if you could carry me all that way…which you can't…it's gonna be dark soon. You said it yourself. We'll have to stop without the sun or a compass."
"Too tight?" the sergeant asked as he tied the bandage off.
Kirby leaned forward and touched his leg. "No, it's good. And you're not answering me, Sarge."
CHAPTER 16
"It's starting to get dark, Littlejohn," Nelson said anxiously as they walked. "You sure we're going in the right direction?"
Without stopping, the big man pointed ahead of them. "See that big tree up on the hill out there?"
Billy squinted. "Yeah, kinda. Like I said, it's getting dark."
"Well, that's just about where the sun went down," Littlejohn explained.
"So?" Billy asked. "It's gone now."
"The tree ain't gone," Littlejohn answered patiently, "We're gonna keep walking toward that hill until we can't see that tree or hill anymore."
"Then what?" Nelson persisted.
"Then we stop, Billy." Littlejohn smiled. "Can't go if we don't know which way we're going. We'll find a place to hunker down for the night, just like the Sarge said."
"Gee, watching that tree and the sun is something the Sarge would do," Billy said admiringly. "Great thinking, Littlejohn."
"I have a good teacher," the big man admitted. "And I pay attention."
Looking around at the open space that they were moving through, Nelson added nervously, "Don't lose sight of that tree."
"I'm trying not to, Billy," Littlejohn replied as they moved through the field toward the tree on the hill.
CHAPTER 17
"How're we gonna keep going with the sun down?" Kirby asked while he was checking the bandage.
Wiping the blood off of his hands on the back of his shirt, Saunders replied, "There's a large lone tree on the top of that hill way out there."
He pointed out to the horizon. "It's due west. That's where the sun went down. I've been heading us straight toward it ever since we first started out. I can't see the tree anymore, but I can still make out the silhouette of the hill."
Using the branches to cover up the cave, the sergeant added, "Can you walk a little? We'll go slow. Just need to get out of these woods so I can get a better fix on that hill again before it disappears completely."
Kirby nodded. "Yeah, I think so. If we go slow." He held out his arm. "But what happens when you can't see the hill anymore?"
Saunders pulled the soldier up and wrapped the man's arm around his own neck. "Then we settle in somewhere safe and wait for 2030 hours."
Kirby looked at his sergeant in confusion. "What the heck happens at 2030 hours?"
"That's about when the moon'll be rising. It's a clear night," Saunders replied.
"I remember it ain't a big moon right now though," the BAR man countered as they began to walk slowly out of the woods. "Won't be much light."
"Don't need the light," the sergeant answered. "The darker the better as we get closer to the front lines."
"Then what the heck do we need the moon for?" Kirby asked now totally lost.
"What we need," Saunders replied, "is a fix on our direction. The moon has been coming up in the southwest. As long as I can keep it in sight and track its movement, I can keep us heading roughly due west."
Kirby was at a loss for words. "Really?"
Saunders smiled. "Really. Don't you pay attention to things like that on our patrols, Kirby?"
The BAR man snorted with a smile. "Heck no…that's why you're the Sarge, ain't it?"
CHAPTER 18
Once they were down off of the hill, Brockmeyer and Doc made good time. Before heading out, Brockmeyer had taken a hard look at the terrain ahead of them. He could see a small village in the distance, probably at least four or five miles away. He planned to check it out once they got nearer.
If it was kraut occupied, he was hoping to get close enough to listen in on some conversations to see if he could learn anything important.
If it was totally free of krauts he'd consider trying to find a friendly villager who might be able to help them somehow get back to the Allied lines. Or at the very least try to find someone who could take them in for the night so that they could rest up and move out again in the early predawn hours.
But he remembered their sergeant's warning about possible collaborators. They'd have to be very careful.
As they traveled through cow pastures and fields of corn, the two soldiers encountered no enemy. Nothing but the birds singing cheerily around them and an occasional rabbit scurrying past. Brockmeyer had to keep reminding himself how far they still were behind enemy lines. He stayed alert.
Moving very slowly and cautiously, it took the pair several hours to reach the small village. They still saw no signs of Germans. The farther they went with no enemy in sight, the more anxious Brockmeyer became. He knew that the majority of soldiers would be concentrated at the front…but it still made him nervous.
It was growing dark as they approached the outskirts of town. Brockmeyer stopped and looked around. "Stay here, Doc. Keep down in these bushes and you should be ok. I'm going to check it out. The town looks pretty quiet."
"I'm not staying here," Doc replied adamantly. "If something happens to you, I'm out here by myself. I'll never make it back alone. I intend to stick to you like glue."
Brockmeyer started to protest, but then realized that the medic was right. If something did happen and he had to run for it, he was better off having Doc right beside him. And if they were recaptured, at least the two would be together.
"Ok, stay close behind me."
"Like glue," Doc replied with a slight smile.
"Once we hit the edge of town though," Brockmeyer added, "I'll need to get closer on my own."
"Let's go." Breaking free from the tree line, the two soldiers belly crawled toward the first building.
CHAPTER 19
As they broke from the tree line out into another pasture, Saunders looked around in the dark for someplace to settle in until the moon came up.
"Hold up a minute," he said quietly as he lowered Kirby to the remnants of an old stone wall.
"Won't get no argument from me," the BAR man said with relief.
Sitting next to the wounded man, Saunders began to unbuckle his boots. Kirby watched in confusion. "Feet hurting you?"
"I need to know the time," Saunders replied.
The BAR man stared at his sergeant. "Time? With your boot?"
The Sarge was the best at field expediency…but a boot?
Pulling one boot off, the sergeant reached in, took out his watch and slipped it on his wrist. Holding it up to his ear, he listened for a moment to be sure it was still working.
Staring in disbelief, Kirby asked, "You been going all this time with your watch in your boot? Your foot must be killing you!"
Satisfied that his watch was still working, Saunders took off his other boot. "My foot's ok, but my ankle is pretty black and blue by now. Won't know when the moon's supposed to come up without the time."
Reaching into his other boot, the sergeant pulled out a soggy muddy map and then his lighter.
"Shoulda known," Kirby said as he checked his wound. "You'd never let the krauts get that!"
Without replying, Saunders wiped his lighter off and tucked it into his pants pocket. He tore the soggy map into small pieces and stuffed them in between the stones in the wall. It probably wasn't readable anymore after his dip in the muddy ditch when they first left the truck…but he wasn't taking any chances. And it certainly didn't do them any good being this far away from Allied lines.
"Can't see how we can make it back like this, Sarge," Kirby said. "You sure can't carry me the rest of the way."
He hesitated for a moment and then added, "Maybe you should just leave me and I'll hide or something."
Ignoring Kirby's suggestion, Saunders looked out into the field and could sense a large dark object that seemed to be moving slightly.
The sergeant smiled and quickly buckled and tied his boots.
"Maybe I won't have to carry you. C'mon."
Helping the BAR man up, he steered him toward the object as Kirby looked around in confusion. "Where we going?"
"With any luck, back to Allied territory," Saunders replied as the object loomed larger in the dark the closer they got.
As they approached, Kirby caught sight of the large object. "Whoa! What the…? Is that a moose?"
"Nope," Saunders answered, stopping about fifteen feet away. "That's a horse."
"Horse?" Kirby asked incredulously. "That thing's as big as a bull moose!"
The sergeant guided the soldier to a nearby rock. "Here. Sit down while I check her out."
Saunders cautiously moved a little closer. "A bull moose is even bigger. Maybe six and a half or seven feet at the shoulder. She's only about five and a half feet at the withers. But when she's full grown she just might outweigh a bull moose."
Kirby looked from the horse to his sergeant and back again. He had loads of questions and didn't know quite where to start.
"She?" he finally said. "How do you know it's a she?"
Saunders looked back at his BAR man. "You don't know how to tell a he from a she?"
"It's dark," Kirby replied defensively.
"So how come you know she ain't full grown yet?" he asked, quickly trying to change the subject. "She sure looks big enough."
Saunders stood staring at the horse as she munched calmly on the pasture grass. "She's a Percheron. She's a draft horse. That's why she's so big. But not as big yet as she could be."
"Ok," Kirby conceded. "But if she's a work horse, what makes you think we can ride her?"
"Percherons are also great riding horses," Saunders replied, inching closer. "They started right here in France."
He took another step. "I don't know if she's ever been ridden though."
Reaching out to touch her, he slowly ran his hand along her side. She showed no reaction. He ran a hand along her back.
"See how dark she is?" Saunders asked quietly, trying not to startle the horse. If she bolted they would lose their best chance of getting out of kraut territory.
"Yeah, she's black," Kirby replied.
Still running his hand gently across her back, the sergeant answered, "No, she's gray."
"Sarge," Kirby countered. "I know it's dark out, but I can still see she's black and not gray."
Saunders smiled and gently patted her shoulder. "We're both right. She's black right now, but do you see her back?"
"Yeah," Kirby answered, sitting up a little taller to see better. "Looks like she's got lighter spots."
"Right," his sergeant agreed. "She looks black now, but she's actually a dappled gray. She'll lighten up as she gets older. And she'll get bigger too. She's a real beauty."
He moved slowly in front of her and ran a hand down the front of her head, down to her nose. She snuffled his hand for food.
"Let's see if she's ok with being ridden."
CHAPTER 20
Caje and Steller made it to the outskirts of town without encountering any major kraut activity. As it had become darker, movement for them became easier. They slipped into town and ducked into a narrow alleyway between two stores.
Both stood in the darkness and just listened. There were only a handful of Germans that they could see, spread out and walking the town. The regular French townspeople seemed to be going about business as usual as the town began to settle down for the evening. They appeared to be resigned to the German occupation.
Observing everyone coming and going, Caje waited for anything that he could hear. He was hoping for somebody who he could be sure would help them and not turn them over to the krauts.
He was hearing nothing of importance and was growing worried that they might have to give up and move on to another village. But then one older man came around a corner, walking slowly as he carried several bundles in his arms.
Passing a soldier, the old Frenchman smiled and spoke politely to the German. Obviously not understanding French, the soldier ignored him and continued on. The old man smiled with satisfaction.
Caje laughed silently. He'd found his 'somebody'. The old villager had just very politely cursed out the soldier and all of his ancestors, wishing him a quick death…all with an innocent smile on his face.
As the old man neared, the Cajun waited until he was passing the alleyway. "Monsieur, aidez-nous," Caje whispered. "Nous sommes américains."
The Frenchman stopped abruptly, glanced into the dark alley and then looked over at the back of the German soldier as the man walked away from him. With the German's back to him, the old villager quickly ducked into the alley.
Seeing the American uniforms, the Frenchman grabbed Caje's arm and pulled him deeper into the darkness of the alley. When he felt that it was safe, he began to whisper in rapid fire French. Caje replied occasionally, and Steller waited patiently to find out what was going on.
Finally Steller couldn't stand being left in the dark any longer. "What's he saying, Caje? Is he gonna help us?"
The Cajun finished his conversation and then replied, "We struck gold. Monsieur Mener is with the Maquis. They received word to look out for eight Americans who escaped from the Germans. They've been searching for us. He was just about to join up with some other men to go out looking for us again."
Monsieur Mener spoke again and Caje nodded and smiled.
"It seems that the pilot of the plane reported our last position. He also reported what looked like a blond shirtless American waving his shirt in a small clearing a few miles from the trucks. My guess is that was Sarge, but he didn't see any signs of Kirby."
"Well, at least the Sarge is still going," Steller replied.
Caje spoke again with the Frenchman and then added, "They're going to help us get back to our lines. He said that others from the Maquis have already located a big man and a shorter one."
"Littlejohn and Billy!" Steller replied excitedly. "That's great!"
Caje gave a big smile and nodded. "Sure sounds like it's them. Looks like we're half way there."
CHAPTER 21
Saunders reached up with his left hand and grabbed a hunk of hair at the base of the horse's mane. He draped his right forearm over her back.
"What're ya doing?" Kirby asked anxiously.
"Watch," the sergeant said as he leaped up. Holding on tightly with both hands, he hung from her side. She took a slight step to the side, but otherwise seemed unfazed by the man hanging against her.
Saunders dropped to the ground. "She didn't fight me. She should be ok with being ridden."
Kirby stared at his sergeant in wonder. "I figure you know a lot of stuff, Sarge, but c'mon. How the heck you know all this about a horse? I barely know her front end from the back."
Saunders patted her again on the side and looked at his BAR man.
"You come from Chicago. I grew up in a small town. Had a friend who owned a couple of Percherons for their farm work. On weekends Danny and I used to ride them sometimes if they weren't working."
He ran his hand along her side again. "Beautiful animal."
Saunders looked around them. All was black and quiet. He wondered where she had come from. And then he looked at Kirby.
"Have to figure out how to get you up there."
"Me?" Kirby replied nervously. "Up there? You mean up there?" He pointed to the horse's back.
"Where else?" the sergeant answered.
"I…I don't know," the BAR man said doubtfully. "She's awful big."
"She's not going to get any smaller, Kirby," Saunders replied. "Our selection of horses is pretty slim right now."
"Well she ain't got no reins anyway, Sarge," Kirby added. "Horses gotta have reins. At least I know that much watching cowboy movies. How you gonna get her to go where you want her to go?"
Without replying, Saunders unbuckled his belt and slipped it out of his pants. "With a little field expediency. Gimme your belt."
Kirby stared at him a moment in confusion, but took off his own belt and handed it over. Taking the two belts, the sergeant clipped them together, went to the horse and draped it over her neck. Reaching around, he clipped the two ends together.
"Now I've got reins."
Kirby smiled and shook his head. "And that's why you're the Sarge. But…"
Before Kirby had a chance to object, his sergeant reached up, grabbed her mane and back just like before. But this time when he leaped up he kept going. He draped his chest over her back and quickly swiveled and swung his right leg up and over her back.
Kirby watched in awe as his sergeant sat up. "Ain't no way I'm ever gonna do that!"
Ignoring the BAR man's objection, Saunders replied, "I'll get her over to you and you can use the rock to climb up on her."
Maneuvering the horse with his legs, weight and the belt, he slowly positioned her near Kirby and the rock that he was sitting on. He leaned over and held out his hand.
"If we can get you up on the rock, you can get on her behind me."
Saunders waited. When Kirby didn't move, his sergeant added impatiently, "You just going to wait until the krauts come through here? Let's go. Move."
With a deep sigh of resignation, Kirby stood up and stared at the large horse. Finally he reached up to take his sergeant's hand.
"You watch," the BAR man grumbled. "I'm gonna get a nosebleed."
Between the two men they maneuvered Kirby up onto the rock. Grimacing, the BAR man stood unsteadily and looked from his sergeant to the horse.
"C'mon!" Saunders hissed with impatience. "Before you fall off that rock. Just get on the horse!"
He guided the horse a little closer to the rock. Kirby took a deep breath, got a strong hold on his sergeant's arm and slid his leg up over the horse's back.
CHAPTER 22
"This is as far as we go tonight, Billy," Littlejohn whispered as he looked around, straining to see in the darkness. "I've lost sight of the tree and the hill now."
Nelson stayed close beside the big soldier. "So what do we do now?"
Littlejohn looked around again. "Find a spot to hunker down, just like the Sarge said."
Both men had been traveling steadily with no more sightings of krauts since their encounter with the three Germans smoking. But darkness had brought a halt to their journey.
Before Littlejohn could find a safer place, a voice suddenly called out from the dark, "Américains?"
The two soldiers froze in silence. The voice repeated, "Américains? Je suis avec le maquis. Où es-tu?"
After more tense silence, Littlejohn made a decision. He didn't understand French, but he pinned his hopes on one word that he did know…Maquis.
"Here," he called out softly. "Over here."
A man stepped from the trees with a rifle in his hands. Both Littlejohn and Nelson automatically readied themselves for a fight even without weapons. They'd come too far to give up now.
"Est-ce que tu parles français?" the man asked.
When he received no response, he held up a finger and called out softly, "Jean! Henri…Ils sont ici."
In a short moment two more Frenchmen slipped from the woods and one of the men smiled. "Ah! We found you! Très bien."
Littlejohn and Nelson both began to visibly relax as they listened to the three men speak to each other briefly.
When two of them left, the remaining man said, "Nicolas and Jean will go tell the others that we have found you. We have been searching for all of you ever since we heard about the Boche trucks being blown up and that there were missing escaped prisoners. We were getting worried when it got dark."
"How'd you know we were here?" Littlejohn asked in confusion.
"An American pilot reported back about your escape and the direction you were all headed. Back toward Allied lines, of course. The Americans told the Maquis. And here we are. There are many of us out searching."
He paused. "But we were told that there were eight of you. The others are alright I hope?"
"Yeah," Billy answered. "Our sergeant broke us up into pairs."
The Frenchman nodded. "Safer that way. Better chance of someone getting back."
Littlejohn nodded in agreement as he thought of the three krauts with the cigarettes. "We'd never have made it this far if it had been all eight of us."
"Hopefully we will find the others soon as well. My name is Henri," the man said. "We will get you back to the Allied lines. Come."
Without hesitation, Littlejohn and Nelson gratefully followed Henri into the dark woods.
CHAPTER 23
"Oh, man," Kirby said nervously. "I can't even see the ground from way up here."
The moon had risen and Saunders had the horse moving slowly along the edge of the woods, with Kirby clinging tightly to his sergeant's shoulders.
"It's dark out. That's why you can't see the ground." Saunders was having an easy time of guiding the horse. She definitely knew her way around the area, he thought. But he kept wondering why such a beautiful animal was out in the middle of nowhere.
"Easier to see the moon from up here," he noted quietly.
Kirby snorted. "Heck with the moon. We should be able to see the Allied lines from up here."
Saunders knew that they couldn't see the lines, but he was growing more hopeful about getting to them. In spite of being behind kraut lines with a wounded soldier, the sergeant found himself enjoying the ride. Looking at the billions of stars splashing across the night sky, he followed the moon's path and found himself almost becoming one with the animal as she slowly walked along.
Horse and riders continued to pick their way through fields and hedgerows. Saunders quickly learned to give the lead to the horse as she seemed to know every opening in the hedgerows.
After what seemed forever, the sergeant finally pointed ahead of them. "I can see lights up ahead. Looks like a farmhouse about a quarter mile or so away. Couple fields over. Hang on."
"Don't worry about that," Kirby replied. "Just don't go too fast."
Saunders smiled. "She seems like she's mostly been used for work. She knows every field around here. Probably doesn't even have a fast gear."
Looking over his shoulder, the sergeant asked, "Haven't you ever ridden a horse before?"
"Nuh-uh," came the anxious reply. "Only ones riding horses around my way in Chicago are coppers. Well, lots of people ride in Lincoln and Hyde Parks, but who can afford to do that?"
Kirby laughed. "Not us, that's for sure. Only horse I ever rode was a stick horse when I was a kid."
"Ok," Saunders said in a low voice. "No more talking. We're getting close to the farmhouse."
On the edge of the farmyard, Saunders brought the horse to a stop near a fence. He raised his leg over the horse's neck and slid down her side, landing silently in the grass.
As the sergeant touched the ground, a large dog came barreling across the yard from the barn, heading straight for him. The dog was big and powerful…well over one hundred pounds.
With no time to run, Saunders braced himself for the impact. But to the soldier's surprise, the dog skidded to an abrupt stop in front of him. When the horse lowered her head, the two animals sniffed each other. The dog's tail wagged furiously as the horse nuzzled it.
"Dog must like horses," Kirby whispered. "Good thing. That guy is huge. No wonder they like each other."
"I'm gonna check out the house," Saunders said softly as he scratched the dog's ear.
"You gonna leave me up here?" Kirby asked anxiously.
Seeing the panic in his soldier's eyes, the sergeant held a finger to his lips and lightly patted the side of the horse. He grabbed the belt that was draped around the horse's neck and held it out to his BAR man.
Kirby took it gingerly. Grimacing as if he was clutching a snake, he whispered, "Fat lot this is gonna do me."
Moving silently, the sergeant made his way up the stone walk to the front of the farmhouse.
CHAPTER 24
At the first house that they came to in the town, Brockmeyer insisted that Doc stay put while he slid forward under the porch. The medic knelt behind a low shrub, watching the soldier intently.
Checking for any signs of German activity, Brockmeyer slipped out from beside the steps and ran down along the next few buildings. Ducking into a narrow alleyway, he stayed flat against the brick wall, deep in the shadows. Waiting. All remained quiet.
Just as he was about to continue moving down the street, he heard faint voices. As they drew nearer, Brockmeyer smiled in recognition…German.
Listening from the shadows, he stood motionless as two German soldiers slowly passed him. The sentries were talking quietly to each other. He continued to listen until their voices faded away. As tempting as it was to follow them, Brockmeyer stayed in the shadows. Since they were near the edge of town already, he knew that they had to return soon.
Doc watched anxiously as the two soldiers passed Brockmeyer's position. He held his breath, tensely watching as they reached the last building, turned around and went back up the street. He could hear them talking and even though he didn't know what they were saying, he knew that Brockmeyer would be listening.
Still talking, the two sentries passed Brockmeyer's position once again. Waiting for the soldiers to pass, the private slowly followed behind them, moving from shadow to shadow.
When the sentries and Brockmeyer disappeared into the darkness, Doc's heart rate jumped as fear crept in. Seeing movement in the darkness, he strained to see more clearly. He gave a deep sigh of relief when he saw Brockmeyer coming out of the shadows and running toward him.
As the private dropped to his knee next to him, Doc asked, "Well? Did you hear anything?"
Patting the medic on the back, Brockmeyer replied, "Plenty. Let's get out of here."
With Brockmeyer leading the way, the two Americans slipped away from the village and melted back into the darkness of the nearby woods.
CHAPTER 25
As Kirby sat on the horse tightly clinging to the belt rope, Saunders stood flat against the front wall of the farmhouse. Slowly peering into the window, the sergeant checked the room inside.
Three people sat around a small table, obviously just preparing to eat a meal. There was an older couple and a younger man. Perhaps their son, Saunders thought as he watched. Looking over at the front porch, he could see a worn coat and battered straw hat both hanging on a peg by the door. Two pairs of dirt caked boots sat near a small bench. Farmers, he thought.
He watched for a while longer as the family began to eat. The sight and smell of food made his stomach growl, and he absentmindedly reached down to try to cover the sound with his hand.
There was no sign of any krauts being inside or out. All seemed peaceful and quiet. Normal farm life.
Saunders leaned against the wall and considered their options. He could get back on the horse and they could continue making their way toward the Allied lines. Or he could take a chance that this was just what it seemed. A simple French family that might be sympathetic to helping them get back to their lines. At the very least they might take them in for the night and give them food and shelter until dawn when the two Americans could continue on.
Saunders closed his eyes for a moment, contemplating the pros and cons of each choice. He finally came to a decision and went up onto the front porch. If they were alarmed by his presence, he and Kirby would still have time to get away before they could alert the Germans.
Hesitating, the sergeant took a deep breath and knocked gently on the door.
CHAPTER 26
As the men came out of the darkness toward Second Platoon's billet, the sentry leading them in called out, "Lieutenant! Lieutenant Hanley!"
The officer came from his tent and looked out with relief at the approaching group of men. The sentry was leading six Frenchmen…and four of his own soldiers. Caje, Steller, Littlejohn and Nelson had returned. Hanley went out to greet the leader of the Frenchmen with a warm handshake.
"It seems you lost some sheep, Lieutenant," Henri said with a smile. "Fortunately we are good shepherds and have rounded some of them up for you."
Hanley returned the smile. "Thanks, Henri. Didn't know if we'd ever get them back."
He looked at his four soldiers with concern. "What happened to the others?"
"Once we escaped from the krauts," Caje replied, "Sergeant Saunders broke us up into pairs and sent us off separately. Doc is with Brockmeyer. The Sarge went with Kirby."
"Kirby's hurt, Lieutenant," Littlejohn added with obvious worry. "The Sarge insisted on being the one to go with him."
"I don't see how he's gonna get Kirby back all by himself," Billy said. "Kirby can't hardly walk."
"We'll be leaving now, Lieutenant," Henri said as he held his hand out to the officer once again.
Shaking hands, Henri continued, "It's been good to see you again. Glad we could help. We'll keep looking for your four other men. Hopefully one way or another they will all return safely."
"Thank you, Henri," Hanley replied.
As the French resistance fighters disappeared back into the darkness, the officer thought of his remaining men's chances. Brockmeyer and Doc had a good chance of making it back either on their own or with the help of the Maquis. Brockmeyer's fluency in German would definitely work in their favor.
Hanley knew that Saunders and a wounded Kirby were definitely the dark horse in this race, but he wasn't about to give up on them. The race wasn't over yet.
Turning to his four returning soldiers, he said, "You four come with me. I want to hear everything. Don't leave anything out."
CHAPTER 27
After knocking, Saunders waited for long tense moments. When he was about to knock again, the door opened a crack and the old man peered out.
"Oui?"
Saunders had been so busy worrying about krauts that he totally forgot about the language barrier. He paused and then replied slowly, "I'm an American. Can you help me? American."
"Qu'est-ce que vous avez dit?" the old man asked.
The sergeant tried to think of something else to say, but he just repeated, "American…American."
He was growing anxious and feeling very vulnerable on the front porch. When he was about to give up and leave, the younger man's face appeared in the doorway above the older man's head. They spoke to each other and then the door opened wider.
"Come in, please," the younger man said.
Relieved, Saunders replied, "I'm with another soldier. He's hurt."
The young man followed the sergeant down the path to the fence and the waiting Kirby still astride the large dark horse.
With obvious relief, the BAR man said, "Get me down, Sarge."
As the young man drew closer, he exclaimed excitedly, "You found Túlélö. I can't believe you found Túlélö!"
"Who?" Kirby called down from the horse's back as he looked around the farmyard.
"Túlélö," the man repeated. "Too-lay-leh," he said slowly.
"You mean this horse?" Kirby asked in surprise. "You know her?"
The farmer patted the horse's side. "She belonged to Jozsef and Klara Deák. The Deáks left when the Boche invaded. They're both Hungarians who came here after the First World War. When the Boche started calling them gypsies and taking some of their chickens, the Deáks left one night out of fear."
"All of their neighbors took in their animals to care for them in case the couple returned," he continued. "But no one could find Túlélö."
"Huh," Kirby said as the young man and Saunders began to help him down.
"What's her name mean?" the BAR man asked, genuinely curious.
As the young man held the horse steady, Kirby reached out to grab his sergeant's shoulder.
The young Frenchman replied, "I don't know. I don't speak Hungarian. I never thought to ask. But she's beautiful, isn't she?"
Sliding over the horse's side, Kirby snorted, "And big."
Just then the old man came to the door and peered out at the others. Seeing the large horse in the darkness, he shouted, "Túlélö! Túlélö!"
The horse's head came up and she whinnied softly.
"Hey, she heard him," Kirby laughed as he hopped a few times to get his balance.
"Yes, they know each other," the young man answered. "They are very good friends. Come. Let's get you into the house. My mother can look at your leg. She's excellent with injuries."
"If you could help Kirby inside," Saunders responded. "I'd like to take care of Túlélö first. Give her some food and water."
The young farmer pointed to the old man making his way down the path toward the horse. "My father will do it. He loves this horse. He always has treats for her. When no one could find her, he was afraid that the Boche took her. They would have worked her to death. No respect for their horses."
The old man reached out to the horse. Running his hand down her nose, he leaned his head against hers, and Túlélö murmured softly. She snuffled his hand, looking for a treat.
"See?" the young man smiled. "Old friends."
As Saunders helped Kirby into the farmhouse, the old farmer slowly led his friend to the barn with the dog following closely behind.
CHAPTER 28
Once Brockmeyer felt it was safe to talk, he stopped and knelt down among the trees.
Kneeling down next to him, Doc whispered expectantly, "Well?"
Brockmeyer smiled. "We're almost there."
"What do you mean, Brock?" the medic replied. "Even I know we've got lots of miles still to go."
Shaking his head, Brockmeyer answered, "No. The Allies broke through off to our south. Created a bulge in the line a few miles wide. Those krauts were talking about how nervous they were with the Americans so close while their own troops were busy trying to regroup."
With another big smile, he added, "We're practically in No Man's Land right now."
The private pointed off to the south. "From the sounds of it, if we head that way we should get to our lines before dawn. Just have to get past the kraut front lines. Once we're in No Man's Land we should be home free."
He looked around cautiously. They were so close, he didn't want them to get recaptured now.
"Those sentries said they're so busy regrouping and counting their losses that they haven't even thought about sending anyone beyond their own newly established front lines."
"Getting past their front lines isn't gonna be easy," the medic responded anxiously.
Brockmeyer smiled. "Actually, getting past the krauts coming from this direction is a lot easier."
When Doc gave him a skeptical look, Brockmeyer added. "Did it before with a patrol. Sarge showed us. The krauts are looking for the enemy to try to get into kraut territory, not out. Just got to be sure to do it before the sun comes up."
Standing up, the private said, "Let's go. First we gotta figure out where those kraut front lines are without getting caught and then find their weak spot. Stay close."
"Like glue," Doc replied anxiously.
CHAPTER 29
As Saunders helped Kirby to sit down by the fireplace, the older woman hurried into the kitchen.
Helping the two soldiers, the young man said, "I am Dumas Guérison. My mother is Belle, and my father is Philippe."
Dumas smiled. "I think my father will be with Túlélö for quite some time. She will be well taken care of."
Kneeling down, Saunders slid aside the bloody bandage on Kirby's leg and checked his wound. Mrs. Guérison called out from the kitchen, and mother and son spoke for a minute.
Finally Dumas explained, "My mother said she will clean your friend's wound. She's getting some things right now."
Saunders stood up. "Thanks. I'm Sergeant Saunders and this is Private Kirby."
Mrs. Guérison came from the kitchen with cloths draped over her arm as she carried a basin of water. Dumas went to a side cupboard and pulled out what appeared to be a bottle of cognac. As his mother set everything down next to Kirby's leg, Dumas handed her the bottle.
"Now that I sure could use right now," Kirby said, perking up with a faint smile.
"This is to clean your wound," Dumas replied.
Seeing the crestfallen look on Kirby's face, Mrs. Guérison spoke to her son and he went back to the cupboard to pull out another bottle.
Dumas handed Kirby the bottle. "My mother says you should drink."
The BAR man took the bottle with a smile and looked at the woman. "Gee, thanks…uh merci, Mrs. Guérison."
Dumas added, "She says you're going to need it."
The smile disappeared as the soldier took a long drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Setting the bottle down on the hearth next to him, he said, "Good stuff. Shame to waste any of it on my leg."
"My mother makes it herself," the young farmer replied proudly.
The old woman carefully unwrapped Kirby's leg and tossed the bloody bandage into the fireplace. Then she began to clean the wound with a wet cloth as she spoke to her son.
"She says it's not infected. And no bullet," Dumas translated. "She was worried that she'd have to get a bullet out. She'll just clean it up."
Shaking her head, the old woman spoke to her son again. He looked at Kirby. "She says that it almost missed you."
Kirby replied, "Yeah, I know. Just my luck."
After carefully washing the wound, the woman picked up the cognac bottle near her and spoke briefly again.
"She says that this will hurt," Dumas translated.
Remembering what it felt like when he'd gone through this once before himself, Saunders quickly grabbed Kirby's legs to hold him down.
"Have another drink, Kirby," the sergeant suggested.
Before the BAR man could reply, Mrs. Guérison poured the cognac over the wound. Kirby arched his back and screamed as Dumas held his shoulders. Saunders looked from Kirby to the two civilians with concern.
Kirby gritted his teeth and groaned. Fighting back tears of pain, he grabbed the bottle from the hearth and took several long drinks.
He finally managed a hoarse, "Geez!"
The old woman immediately began to tightly bandage the wound while speaking a few words to her son.
"She says it looks good," he translated.
Wiping beads of sweat from his forehead, Kirby took another long swallow of cognac and replied in a shaky voice, "Sure don't feel too good."
"If you can stay off of it, she says it should stop bleeding and begin to heal," the young man added.
"Yeah, well we still got a long way to go," Kirby responded as he watched the woman tying off the bandage.
"We've still got Túlélö," Saunders reminded him. "At least until we get closer to the kraut lines. Then we'll have to leave her behind and go the rest of the way on foot."
He could see the look on Dumas' face, and he was sure his own face reflected his feelings. Abandoning the horse in a strange area was not what he wished to do after she had brought them so far. She deserved better. But he simply couldn't see any other choice.
Just then Mr. Guérison returned from the barn. Father and son spoke at great length while Saunders sat patiently next to his BAR man warming himself by the fire.
Finally the old man began to speak rapidly and excitedly until Dumas turned to Saunders with a smile.
"There just may be a way for you to take Túlélö all the way back to your lines."
Seeing the doubt in the sergeant's eyes, the young farmer said, "Let's eat something and then we will talk."
TO BE CONTINUED