No infringement on the rights of the owners of "Combat!" is intended. This story is for the enjoyment of "Combat!" fans only, not for any monetary profit by the author.

Thanks to JML for proofreading and to Susan Rodriguez for beta reading.

S-2 Chronicles

Part 2: Chorus Girls

by: Queen's Bishop

2020 © Reg. No. TXu 2-233-482

[] Indicates French or German is being spoken, depending on the character.

()()()() Denotes time has passed or the focus of the story has shifted to a

different location or character.

Billy looked up as the door to the house the squad was billeted in burst open.

"Where's Caje!?" a breathless Kirby asked.

Billy sighed and replied, "Probably standing in line with the rest of the guys to get some hot chow."

Instead of leaving to hunt down the Cajun, the BAR man was distracted from his original mission by the sight of Nelson sitting cross-legged and hunched over on his bedroll. He craned his neck to see as he said, "Whacha doin'? Why ain't ya with 'em?"

"I gotta finish this letter to my Mom, that's why."

"You could finish it later."

"No, I promised her I'd write once a week an' this is the last day."

"Well, she ain't gonna know. She won't get it for weeks anyway," Kirby persisted.

"She'll know…she always knows. Anyway, weren't you in a hurry to find Caje?"

"Oh yeah…but this might work out better."

Nelson rolled his eyes as he shook his head. He knew Kirby was up to something. But, after a final questioning look, he returned to his letter.

Meanwhile, the BAR man sat, scratched his left armpit, stood and paced, fidgeted with the cracked mirror hanging on the wall, stared at the door as if willing it to open, paced, looked out the window, scratched the back of his head, sighed, pulled the mag from the BAR and reseated it, scratched his right armpit, and continued to repeat all of those actions in random order, as well as a few others he threw in, much to Billy's annoyance.

The young private was glad when he could finally put his pencil down with a sigh of relief and announce, "I'm done. I'm gonna drop this off at the CP an' then get something to eat. You coming?"

"No, I'll wait."

"Do you want me to tell Caje you're looking for him?"

Kirby wrinkled his nose as he thought for a moment; Billy could almost see the wheels turning in his head and the smoke coming out of his ears, just like Littlejohn always said. "No, forget about it. It ain't nothin' important."

Once again, the young private shook his head as he rolled his eyes. Whatever the BAR man was up to, he figured he'd hear about it sooner or later. So, he put on his helmet, picked up the letter and his rifle, and left the house.

A short time later, the rest of the squad returned. Kirby stood by the doorway as they filed in, again craning his neck as he looked up and down the street. Finally, he said, "Caje, I gotta talk to ya outside. It's kinda personal."

The Cajun tilted his head to the side and furrowed his brow as he looked at his friend.

"Caje, it's important," Kirby said impatiently.

With a sigh, the Cajun got up and followed the BAR man out the door.

Kirby closed the door and grabbed the sleeve of the Cajun's field jacket to pull him well away from the open window. Then he whispered to be sure nobody else could hear. "I gotta make this fast, before the Sarge returns. I was comin' back from the latrine an' I happened to pass by the window of the CP…"

"Mon ami, de CP is not between de latrine and de billet or de chow line," Caje interjected.

"Yeah, well that ain't important," the BAR man quickly said. "What's important is what I happened to overhear."

"You mean what you heard while you were ease-dropping, don't you?"

"Okay," Kirby hissed. "If ya don't wanna hear 'bout Saunders lookin' for volunteers to escort some chorus girls…"

That, of course, peaked the Cajun's interest and he loudly said, "Chorus girls!…Volunteers?… Chorus girls!"

"Keep your voice down!" Kirby whispered as he looked around conspiratorially. "We don't want any of the rest of the guys jumpin' at this opportunity. I didn't get the whole story, 'cause Brockmeyer came outa the CP so I had to move along, but the lieutenant said somethin' about the chorus girls not bein' able to go it alone an' the Sarge said maybe he should ask for volunteers."

"Escorting chorus girls…dat's one mission I'd volunteer for," Caje said enthusiastically. But then he looked suspiciously at his friend. "Kirby, are you sure dat's what dey said?"

"Yeah, 'course I'm sure!" His eyes were sparkling as if he were five years old and it was Christmas eve.

"But I dough you never volunteered for anyding…"

Before another word could be spoken, Saunders and Nelson came walking down the street toward them. The NCO signaled the two men to follow him as he entered the billet.

"Alright, listen up," the sergeant said. "There's a special mission…"

He pulled a map out of his breast pocket and as he started to unfold it, he heard an eager, "I'll go," from Kirby and after a moment's hesitation, "Count me in," from the Cajun. Saunders had been sure he would have to resort to a little arm twisting to get two men from his squad to agree to participate in the mission, so he could only stare at Kirby and then Caje in amazement.

And, his astonishment was shared by Littlejohn, Billy and Doc who gawked at their squad mates in stunned silence.

"Don't you want to hear about the mission first?" Saunders finally asked.

"Nah. If you're okay with it, Sarge, then so are we," Kirby replied solemnly.

"Alright; let's go meet with Lt. Hanley an' go over the details." He once again looked suspiciously at each man then shook his head as he led the way.

Kirby was almost giddy as he followed Saunders. Caje, however, was more subdued. He turned to glance one final time at his still-stunned squad mates before exiting the billet. He was beginning to wonder what he had gotten himself into.

"What do you suppose the mission is?" Littlejohn asked.

"I don't know, but Kirby came rushing in here a while ago looking for Caje…" Billy said.

"…and then they went outside to talk," the medic added.

"I knew he was up to something," Billy continued.

"He knows what the mission is…" Littlejohn surmised.

"…or thinks he does," Doc concluded.

()()()()()()()()()()

"Well, that was quick," Hanley said as Saunders led Kirby and Caje into the CP.

"Yeah, these two volunteered before I could even lay it out for them," the sergeant replied.

"Kirby, you volunteered and without even knowing the mission? You never cease to amaze me," the lieutenant said. He could only speculate as to what had gotten into the private who was infamous for protesting every job the squad was given.

"Sometimes I amaze myself, Sir. But, like I told the Sarge, I'm your man…me an' Caje, that is," the BAR man responded confidently.

Hanley looked at the Cajun. "Caje?"

"Yes, Sir. We volunteered," he reluctantly agreed.

The lieutenant looked at the sergeant, but Saunders didn't say anything; he simply shrugged. So, the lieutenant, who was nursing a bum ankle from his recent mission for S-2, stood and, leaning heavily on one crutch, spread out a map on his desk. Then he turned awkwardly to introduce an officer who had been sitting quietly in the corner.

"This is Cpt. Allen from S-2. He'll explain the mission and answer any questions," Hanley said before sinking heavily back into his chair.

Caje looked at Kirby and said under his breath, "S-2?"

"He wasn't here before," Kirby barely breathed the words, but he suddenly felt like he was going to throw up.

Cpt. Allen, an older, scholarly-looking man with horn-rimmed glasses, approached the desk and began pointing out various locations on the map as he explained the mission.

"The Germans have been bringing up reinforcements and supplies on this railway line. The train runs only at night and not on any set schedule. It makes it as far as here before sunrise, then pulls onto a spur the Krauts constructed that runs into what was originally an old mine shaft. The shaft's been turned into a tunnel, dug out all the way through to the other side. The openings are covered with fortified concrete. All the work was done by conscripted labor.

"Once the train is in the tunnel, the engineer shuts down the boiler and there it sits all the next day. Sometime during the following night, or even the next one, it pulls out and completes the run. From the tunnel on, whenever the train stops, they detach cars. By morning, it has essentially disappeared. The air corps can't find it at night and can't touch it during the day.

"We know from the Maquis that when the train is coming, two soldiers come out from this railway station and move the switch, realigning the track to divert the train to the spur. What you'll do is set some charges to block the entrance to the tunnel. That will leave the train out in the open for the air corps to bomb and strafe. Questions?"

Caje studied the map before stating, "Sir, dat looks pretty far behind enemy lines."

"The station is a little over seven miles as the crow flies, but the terrain is pretty rugged so the roads are all winding. There's a small creek you'll have to cross here," Allen added, pointing it out on the map.

"How long do you dink it will take us to get dere?" the Cajun asked.

Saunders responded, "I figure if we leave later this evening, it will be dark when we cross the Kraut lines. That would give us about twenty-four hours to reach the tunnel and set the charges. Then we just wait for the train."

With that, all conversation in the CP momentarily stopped as the First Squad men mulled over the mission. At last, Caje broke the silence. "If de French Resistance knows so much about dis train, why don't dey handle de mission?"

"They've tried, twice. The first time, they didn't use enough or the right kind of explosive. There was only minimal damage to the reinforced concrete and it was easily repaired. However, the Germans killed ten civilians from the nearby town in retaliation. On their second attempt, the Resistance went properly prepared, but a German patrol caught them placing the charges. Only a few of the fighters escaped and nothing was accomplished. That time, twenty-five civilians were killed in reprisal. The Krauts have made it known that if they try again, it will be a hundred," the S-2 captain said. "That's why you need to leave clear evidence that it was the Americans who carried out this raid. Understand?"

The Cajun nodded.

"Kirby, you're being awfully quiet. Don't you have any questions?" Hanley asked.

The BAR man had stood with a strickened look on his face ever since the captain began explaining the mission. In a distressed voice, he asked, "Yes, Sir, what about the chorus girls?"

The lieutenant looked a little surprised. "That's the SOI code for planes (1), remember?"

Allen added, "They've been flying a mission every morning at dawn looking for the train. With your help, one of these mornings they're going to find it."

"So there ain't any chorus girls?" Kirby asked in a smaller, more pitiful voice.

The sergeant shook his head and said, "No, Kirby, no women, just airplanes."

Caje said nothing, but he glared at the BAR man. He was angry with his friend, but more upset with himself for having agreed to go along with one of Kirby's cock-a-mamie schemes.

Kirby, for his part, stared at Hanley and then Saunders with the sad, pleading eyes of a beaten dog.

As they walked back to their billet, Saunders told the two men to get some rest; they would be leaving shortly after the mess kitchen sent up the evening meal. Neither of them responded. They were both seemingly deep in thought.

As they entered the billet, their squad mates looked up.

"Well, what's the mission?" Littlejohn asked.

"Shut up, ya big moose!" Kirby snapped as he sank onto his bed roll and turned to face the wall.

Before the big private could respond, the sergeant began issuing orders. "Doc, we'll need extra sulfa and bandages and rations for three days. Littlejohn an' Nelson, make up enough cartridges an' mags so we each have a double basic load of ammo, an' get us each three grenades."

The three men exchanged glances. Whatever the mission was, they were sure it wasn't what the BAR man had had in mind.

"Sarge, maybe I should go with you," the medic said.

Saunders hesitated for a moment before responding. Having Doc along would be helpful if someone got wounded, but he would also be another man the sergeant would be responsible for on a dangerous mission. "No, Doc, not this time. But, get me a couple of syringes of morphine, just in case."

Reluctantly, the medic agreed, but added, "And some extra halazone tablets."

The sergeant nodded, then lay down on his bedroll. He thought for a moment to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. He'd already discussed what type of explosives to take with Cpt. Allen. The S-2 officer had recommended having both dynamite and composition-C available. That way, Saunders could decide which to use once he had a look at the tunnel.

Within minutes, the NCO was asleep.

Caje closed his eyes to rest, but actual sleep eluded him. First, he cursed Kirby and then himself, but he finally calmed down and concentrated on the details of the mission.

As the minutes and hours dragged on, Kirby lay unmoving, staring at the wall.

'If only Brockmeyer hadn't chased me away…' he thought. 'If only the lieutenant had said planes instead of usin' the code name…if only Caje hadn't been so eager to volunteer…if only Saunders had laid the whole mission out before lettin' us volunteer…if only…if only…if only…'

Somehow, in all of those 'if onlys,' William G. Kirby didn't seem to bear any responsibility for the predicament he now found himself in.

()()()()()()()()()()

It was time to depart. They had filled their knapsacks with rations, explosives, fuses and primer cord. Their trenching tools were strapped onto the back of the packs and their ponchos were draped over their web belts which bulged with extra ammo and first aid supplies. Blasting and detonator caps were in their shirt pockets and Saunders carried the composition-C blasting box and handle inside his field jacket.

Lt. Hanley came out of the CP to see them off. "Take care of yourself," he said to Saunders.

The sergeant nodded. "Always, Lieutenant, always."

"Caje, Kirby, good luck."

"Dank you, Sir. We'll do our best," the Cajun responded.

Kirby said nothing. He hadn't said anything while they prepared their gear, not even voicing any of his usual complaints. Then, as now, he looked and acted like a man who was in shock.

()()()()()()()()()()

Saunders raised his hand. All three soldiers stopped and listened, then moved into the dense underbrush lining the dirt road. They were still about a quarter mile from the Kraut outpost line and had already evaded one German patrol. Now, with weapons at the ready, they watched as another one slowly passed by their hiding place. Once the Germans were out of sight, the Americans settled in to wait.

The sergeant regarded his two comrades. 'That's one thing about having Kirby and Caje along on this mission,' he thought. 'With these two, all it takes is a look or a gesture and they know what needs to be done.'

He didn't have to explain that they would wait until it was good and dark and the Krauts manning the OPs had had a chance to doze off. Not that Nelson or Littlejohn wouldn't know that was the reason they'd stopped, but they'd want to hear him say it. All of the men in the squad were good soldiers and he would have trusted any combination of them on the mission. But he figured the odds were a shade better with these two.

()()()()()()()()()()

The Cajun watched another cloud drift across the sky, covering the quarter moon. "Sarge, I don't dink it's going to get any darker," he said.

Saunders gazed up at the star-filled sky then nodded. He pulled a camouflage stick from his pack and darkened his face and the backs of his hands. When he was done, he passed the stick over to Caje.

Once Kirby finished, the NCO looked at him. "You ready?" he softly asked.

The BAR man, still unusually quiet, slowly nodded.

The men checked their weapons one last time before the sergeant led them back to the road. They moved as silently as they could through what remained of the no-man's-land between the two adversaries.

The Krauts had a rough line of outposts that bisected the narrow loop of a hairpin turn on the road ahead. There was a barrier where the line crossed the road. The next OP to the right was set up on a bank overlooking the roadblock while the ones to the left were in the gully that separated the two legs of the turn. Different Second Platoon squads had done reconnaissance in the area over the last few days so Saunders knew it would be the same no matter where he chose to cross.

They left the road and began the descent into the gully. The pebbles that were dislodged as they made their way sounded like boulders rolling down the slope to the Americans, and time and again they froze in place. But, after a moment, when there was no response from the Germans, they continued on until at last they reached the bottom. They quietly slipped behind cover and there they waited until at last Saunders was satisfied that no-one was patrolling between the OPs.

The sergeant pointed to the scout. Caje dropped to his belly and began slowly crawling forward as the moon danced in and out of the clouds. He could just make out the rounded top of a Kraut helmet off to his left, but nothing was visible to the right. Keeping an eye on the helmet, he slowly, ever so slowly, slithered in a direction that slanted away from the OP. Once he was well beyond the Krauts, he settled behind a log and prepared to give cover fire should his comrades need it as they made the perilous journey.

Within a very short time of his departure, neither Saunders nor Kirby could see the Cajun as he made his way across the Kraut line. However, the night remained quiet so after about forty-five minutes, the sergeant nodded to Kirby.

The BAR man was making good progress until one of the support legs on his weapon scraped against a rock. He stopped and held perfectly still, not making even the smallest twitch.

The Kraut helmet Caje had spotted suddenly jerked in Kirby's direction. A quiet voice said, [What was that? Did you hear something?]

[No, I didn't hear anything,] came the equally quiet response. [You must have been dreaming.]

[No, I heard something. Fire a flare.]

[If I fire a flare, the sergeant will come and he'll send us out to look around. Do you want that?]

There was no response.

[Go back to sleep.]

Although the Germans stopped talking, none of the three Americans moved for a long time.

At last, Kirby began once again to ever so slowly crawl forward until he eventually reached the Cajun's position.

Saunders had a decision to make; should he try to go through the Kraut line where the other two men had gone or should he move further down the gully to attempt the crossing. Once he thought Kirby was safely through to the other side, he elected to move further down from where he had heard the voices. Like his two comrades, he crawled on his belly, scanning the few inches of ground directly ahead of him for anything that might cause an unwanted noise as he passed over it, and checking to his left and right for any sudden movement from the Kraut outposts. It was painstakingly slow, but in the end he, too, made it safely through the Kraut OP line.

Kirby and Caje stayed put. The sergeant knew where they had crossed and they were sure he would make his way to their location. More than four hours had passed since they initially separated, but finally they were reunited. Saunders signaled the scout to move out and the three men headed for the other side of the gully.

()()()()()()()()()()

The NCO looked up and studied the early morning sky. "Red sky in the morning, sailor take warning," he quietly said.

"Did you say someding, Sergeant?" Caje asked.

"No," he replied. Then with a chuckle he added, "It's just something my grandmother used to say."

Neither of the other two men said anything more, but Kirby allowed a slight smile to appear.

'If the Sarge is thinkin' 'bout his granny, maybe,' he thought, 'this won't be so bad after all.'

Before the creek was even in sight, and as predicted by the old saying, it started to rain. It wasn't much at first, more of an annoying drizzle than a steady shower. But they stopped and put on their ponchos anyway before continuing. Then, as they were one-at-a-time crossing the creek, the drizzle suddenly turned into a hard, pounding downpour.

They slogged on. If Kirby's depressed mood had started to lift, the change in the weather extinguished that little flicker of light.

One thing that was breaking their way was the lack of any Kraut patrols or road blocks since the creek. That made Saunders think they could risk holding up for a few hours in an abandoned farm outbuilding or cave, if they could find one. They could all use a rest out of the rain and something to eat.

The remnants of the small farm they found looked as if nobody had been there for several years. Both the house and the barn had been damaged by fire and the surrounding fields were being reclaimed by the woods that bordered the property. After cautiously checking out the remains of the buildings, they settled in a dry corner of the barn, kitty-corner to the gaping hole where there used to be a big front door and near a glassless rear window, in case they needed to make a hasty exit.

Each man was taking a turn caring for his weapon when Kirby surprisingly cleared his throat. Caje and Saunders shared a quick glance and then looked at him expectantly. He finally broke his silence. "Sarge, did ya volunteer for this mission or did the lieutenant order ya to go?"

"Does it matter?"

"I'm just curious, that's all. Me an' Caje, well, ya know we volunteered an' ya probably figured out that this ain't exactly what we had in mind."

Saunders nodded as he said, "Yeah, that's what I figured. That S-2 captain laid it out for me an' I volunteered."

The BAR man looked puzzled and asked, "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did ya volunteer?"

"Because, if it works out, it might shorten the war by a few hours, maybe even a day."

Kirby didn't say anything. He looked at the NCO as if he was expecting more of an explanation and, after a moment or two of silence, Saunders asked, "Kirby, how old is your kid brother?"

Now the BAR man looked downright perplexed. "George?...He's…ugh…he's sixteen."

"So's mine. He'll be seventeen in October."

Saunders went back to cleaning the Thompson. He didn't say anything more, knowing Kirby would think about it and figure it out on his own. However, his own thoughts turned to the promise he had made his dying father when he was twelve (2). At this moment, taking care of his state-side family meant doing everything he could to keep his youngest brother, Chris, out of the war.

When he was satisfied with the Thompson, Saunders said, "I'll take the first watch. You two get something to eat an' some rest." He stood and walked across the barn floor to trade places with Caje. He settled in the same spot the scout had chosen because it was reasonably dry and gave a good view across the yard to the road.

Kirby and Caje broke out their rations and ate in silence. When they were finished, they stretched out to rest, their weapons within easy reach.

After a few minutes, Kirby quietly asked, "Caje, if ya hadn't decided to volunteer before we knew what we was gettin' into an' ya heard what the mission was, would ya still 've volunteered?"

The Cajun smiled to himself. Kirby hadn't apologized for getting him into this mess, and if he said, "yes," that he would have volunteered, then the BAR man was off the hook. Still, he pondered the question. Would he have volunteered?

He thought about the French civilians being killed in retaliation for the sabotage attempts by the Maquis; defenseless women and old men. He thought about Nelson volunteering because he wanted the Sarge to know that he could depend on him. And then Littlejohn would have volunteered so he would be there if Billy ran into trouble. Not that they weren't good soldiers, just not as good as him. The Cajun slowly shook his head.

'What a terrible thing to be proud of,' he thought. 'Someday, when this war is over, I'll have a lot to ask forgiveness for.'

"I don't know…maybe. What about you?" he finally replied.

The fact that Kirby even paused to think about it was surprising to the Cajun.

"I don't know…I never thought 'bout me fightin' so George don't got to. Why'd the Sarge have to go an' make it so complicated?"

Caje didn't respond. He closed his eyes. He, like Kirby, had much to think about.

About four hours later they headed out.

()()()()()()()()()()

Although they were deep in Kraut territory, the only Germans they saw was a convoy heading south. Saunders checked his map. The train would probably be bringing supplies and more reinforcements to join them.

When they finally reached the railroad tracks, they followed them back several miles, taking care to skirt a small village the tracks passed through and farm buildings that were within sight of the rails.

The rain had stopped by the time one end of the tunnel came into view. It was only early afternoon, still plenty of time to do a careful reconnaissance. The sergeant did an initial survey of their target before passing the binoculars to Kirby. The BAR man focused in on the pillbox the Germans had installed above the exit to the tunnel.

"Sarge, we ain't gonna be able to get close to that tunnel," he said as he passed the field glasses to Caje.

The three men circled their target to inspect the entrance and were greeted by another pillbox dug into the hillside above the opening to the tunnel. The rest of the set-up was as Cpt. Allen had described it. The switch was about five hundred yards down the track from the tunnel and another three hundred yards further was the train station.

"What do we do now, Sergeant?" the scout asked as he stared at the pillbox.

"I vote we head for home," Kirby offered.

Saunders didn't reply. He had a mission to accomplish but given these two new obstacles, he needed to think about how he could do it. He took the binoculars and made himself comfortable.

The BAR man started to say something, but Caje gave him a look that told him he had said enough already so they, too, settled in to wait.

Aside from a contingent of Krauts who came from the village beyond the station to relieve those on duty at the train station and each of the pillboxes, there was little activity. No trains came or went. At one point a civilian sat on the bench outside the depot and had a meal and a cigarette. The sergeant wished he could have a smoke, too, to help him think. However, he had to be content with occasionally patting his breast pocket to verity that the pack of Luckys was still there as the three men slowly circled their target.

Saunders studied every possible angle of approach to the fortified tunnel. And, one by one, he rejected each as not only suicidal but also accomplishing nothing. Finally, after several hours, a slight smile appeared as he again played the sequence of events over in his mind. It couldn't be that easy!

'The station receives notification when the train is coming,' he thought. 'Two soldiers walk to the switch and move the lever, diverting the train to the spur. The engineer knows he will be diverted and that he'll stop inside the tunnel so he's already slowing the train down.'

He studied the 'Y' where the train would move from the main track to the spur. Naturally, that change in direction was initially very slight.

"Either of you ever watch a train switch from one track to another?" he asked his comrades.

"What do ya mean, Sarge?" the BAR man asked.

"Well, isn't there some sort of a light to signal the engineer?"

"I dink you might be right. I've seen a guy out waving a lantern, but I never dought about why," the Cajun said.

Kirby looked puzzled. "Okay, so when the Krauts come out from the station, one of 'em waves a lantern. So what?"

"So, if you're the train engineer an' it's dark an' you see the lantern, what would you think?" Saunders asked.

"Dat I'm going onto de spur," the Cajun replied.

"So?" Kirby asked. "How does that help us?"

"It's simple. We don't have to try to blow the entrance to the tunnel. The Krauts are guarding the tunnel, not the tracks. When they get notified that the train is coming, two of them come out to throw the switch to divert the train to the spur and to signal the engineer. We jump those two an' wave the lantern so the engineer thinks everything is fine, but we don't move the lever. The train's gonna continue on the main track. By the time the engineer realizes there's a problem, it's probably just as easy to keep going. He'll figure that once he's past the spur at the other end, he'll stop the train, have someone throw that switch an' back up into the tunnel."

Caje and Kirby looked at each other. As what the sergeant had just said sank in, grins slowly appeared.

"And dat's when we blow up de track!" the Cajun said.

"Right. Once the engine has passed the second juncture of the main line and the spur, we blow the track an' high-tail it outa here. Even if the engine isn't derailed an' they uncouple it from the rest of the cars, it can only go forward while everything else stays put. Both sections will be easy targets for the air corps," Saunders responded.

"I'm all for that…I mean the high-tailin' it part," Kirby said.

With the plan set, the three men made their way back to the opposite end of the spur and settled in to wait until it was dark.

()()()()()()()()()()

Kirby was standing next to a tree, staring into the darker blackness of the tunnel, BAR at the ready. He couldn't see the pillbox at all, but he knew the Krauts were up there, looking into the darkness at him. Still, he figured he would hear them coming before he ever saw anyone. But so far, all he had heard was an occasional crunch of stones as Saunders and Caje placed the charges.

Before they left to set those charges, Kirby had listened as the sergeant explained how to work with composition-C.

When he was done, the BAR man had asked, "Did they teach ya that at sergeant's school?"

Saunders had smiled, remembering the circumstances of his 'on-the-job-training' with Sgt. Turk (3). "No, I took a correspondence course," he replied.

It had been at least twenty minutes since they had gone, crouching low as they headed for the track. Now, as the minutes continued to slowly tick away, Kirby strained to hear the sound of his companions returning.

Once they reached the track, Caje held the Tommy gun to provide cover while Saunders, one by one, took the charges out of the knapsack he was carrying.

The first charge was tucked between the inside of a rail and a tie on the main track about twenty yards before the spur junction. Playing out the lead line, the second one was placed on the spur track. When a small stone the sergeant accidently kicked hit the rail, both men froze, but the darkness seemed to swallow the noise. They moved to the junction of the main line and the spur for the third one and then continued up the main line, away from the tunnel for the fourth and final charge. When it was in place, Saunders played out the remaining lead line as they headed back to where Kirby waited.

Only one step remained, attaching the lead line to the blasting box. The sergeant stripped the end of the line, taking care that the two exposed wires didn't touch one another. Once each wire was attached to a post and tightened, everything was set. Each man let out a small sigh of relief.

"Remember, wait until the engine passes you before you turn the switch," Saunders quietly told Kirby.

"And don't get fidgety and start playing wid it," the Cajun, knowing how his friend got antsy when he had to wait, cautioned.

"Don't worry, I won't. But I still think I should go with ya," the BAR man replied.

"No. If something goes wrong at our end an' we don't make it back in time, someone needs to be here to blow the track. If that happens, we'll rendezvous at the barn," the NCO said.

"Yeah, okay."

"And don't fall asleep," the Cajun added.

Kirby was about to snap back at Caje, but Saunders and the scout had once again disappeared into the night.

()()()()()()()()()()

Caje nudged the dozing sergeant. "Sarge, it's going to start getting light soon. Maybe dere's no train today," he whispered.

Saunders sat up. The scout was right. According to Cpt. Allen's briefing, the Krauts had the train in the tunnel before daybreak. "Fifteen more minutes, then we'll call it quits for tonight."

Up to that point, everything had gone so well. It was hard to accept this setback. Kirby wouldn't be happy, but they could hide out for another day, or two if necessary, until the train came.

Both men stared into the slowly-receding darkness. Hesitantly, Caje asked, "Wait a minute. Is dat a light coming toward us?"

At first, it was hard to tell if the light at the station was actually moving. But after a few moments, when they were satisfied it was, they moved into position. The plan was to jump the Krauts about twenty yards before they reached the lever.

That was the idea, but as the lantern got closer, both Americans realized there were actually three men heading toward the switch. When the Krauts reached them, Saunders jumped up and smashed the butt of the Thompson into the throat of the man nearest to him. Caje put his hand on the mouth of another soldier while his bayonet moved like a striking snake into his abdomen. Both Germans dropped noiselessly to the ground.

The Cajun whirled around to dispatch the Kraut carrying the lantern but he heard the man say in French, [Please, Sir, have mercy.]

[Not one sound or I will kill you where you stand,] Caje hissed.

The sergeant grabbed the lantern. When the scout told him what the Frenchman had said, Saunders asked, "Collaborator?"

[No, no, Sir. I am not a collaborator. The Boche make me do this. They threatened my family. I worked for the railroad before they came. Please, do not kill me. I am but a poor Frenchman…]

[Shut up, or I will kill you,] Caje again hissed. "What do you think we should do with him, Sarge?" he asked after telling the NCO what the Frenchman had said.

"He might be useful," Saunders said. "Find out how long before the train comes."

Caje asked the Frenchman and relayed the information to the sergeant. "He said they get a call when the train is about twenty minutes away."

"Alright, tell him if he does what he's told, once the train passes the spur, we'll let him go."

When the Cajun told that to the Frenchman, he became very agitated. [But, monsieur, the train does not pass the spur. I must throw the switch and the train goes into the tunnel.]

[Not this morning. This morning the train stays on the main line,] Caje replied.

[No, please! If I don't throw the switch, the Boche will surely kill me.]

When Caje translated that statement, Saunders immediately realized how the sudden appearance of the Frenchman would work to their advantage. He told the scout how to respond.

[You tell them the Americans stopped you from directing the train to the spur,] the scout said.

[Americans?]

[Yes, we are Americans, not the Maquis.]

They could hear the sound of the train approaching.

Saunders picked up one of the Kraut helmets and put it on. "Here," he said as he handed the other one to the Cajun. "Just in case the Krauts on the train are looking out the window. Tell the Frenchman to wave the lantern like he always does, and no funny business or we'll slit his throat right now."

Caje relayed the message, making a slicing motion with his bayonet.

The train continued to come toward them, but more slowly. As it neared the station, the engineer sounded the whistle and applied the brakes to slow it even more. The train emitted a high-pitched squeal and sparks as the wheels ground against the rails.

The Frenchman hesitated, but Caje lifted the bayonet menacingly. That persuaded him.

Once the train passed the station, the Frenchman began waving the lantern. The two soldiers watched as the locomotive slowly rumbled past them.

Caje looked at Saunders and grinned. The sergeant nodded and the Cajun released his grip on the Frenchman's arm. He started running back toward the station; his shouts of, [AMERICANS!, AMERICANS!] were drown out by the train.

Saunders and Caje moved away from the track before breaking into a run. They reached Kirby while the train was still slowly moving toward him. They could hear him quietly urging it along, "C'mon. C'mon ya big rollin' pile of tin. We ain't got all day."

It would be light soon and all three of them wanted to be well away from the area when the air corps arrived.

They watched as a couple of Krauts jumped off the locomotive and ran past the composition-C hidden beneath the rails and ties on their way to the switch. One of them moved away from the track so the engineer could see him as he waved his arm, signaling to continue going forward. He was standing so close to the three Americans that they could have reached out and touched him. Instead, they collectively held their breath as the engine continued to move past them.

If things had been moving in slow motion before, suddenly everything seemed to happen at once.

The train screeched to a halt as the Kraut only inches from them began running back to help his comrade move the switch. Kirby looked at Saunders and with a nod from him, he turned the handle on the blasting box. The Americans only had to wait for a split second before the four charges of composition-C exploded in rapid succession.

Saunders yelled, "GRAB THE FOOD AN' LEAVE THE REST. LET'S GET OUTA HERE!"

They had reached the middle of a large open field not far from the track when a squadron of P-51D Mustangs suddenly dropped out of the sky. Every morning for the last two weeks they had been making this run, flying along the tracks, looking for the train. Now, for the first time, they weren't disappointed.

The planes made their preliminary pass over the train, dropping the bombs they were carrying. The three infantry men stopped to watch the attack.

"Well, mon ami, what do you dink of dose chorus girls?" the Cajun asked.

"I'd rather have the real thing, but these ain't bad at all," Kirby replied.

They began running again as the planes circled and came in lower, strafing the train and going after the figures which were trying to flee the inferno.

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"One more 360, boys, then we head for home…" the squadron leader said.

"Roger that…Pete, go in low…I've got your six…" Arnie said to his wing man.

"Roger that…"

()()()()()()()()()()

Suddenly, two of the planes broke away and were coming right at them.

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"No…PULL UP, PULL UP! …THEY AIN'T GERMANS!..." Arnie yelled.

It was too late.

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"HIT IT!" yelled Saunders as the TA-TA-TA-TA-TA of machine gun fire filled the air and a seemingly endless stream of bullets tore up the ground around them.

Kirby cried out in pain. Saunders got up and ran to him. A rapidly expanding blood stain on his trouser leg showed where the BAR man had been hit.

"Kirby, you hit anyplace else?" the sergeant asked as he took off his belt and looped it around the private's thigh, putting the end through the buckle and pulling until the belt was tight.

Kirby moaned in pain. "No, just my leg," he said through gritted teeth.

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"Come around. Repeat. Come around and watch my six…I'll go in low and check it out…" Arnie said.

()()()()()()()()()()

Caje stopped running toward his comrades. "SARGE! DEY'RE COMING BACK!" he yelled.

Saunders threw himself on top of Kirby.

The Cajun stood, lifted his rifle and took aim at the approaching plane. However, he couldn't bring himself to shoot at a fellow American, so, at the last moment, he threw himself to the ground.

()()()()()()()()()()

"They're Americans…Damn infantry, more guts than brains…" Arnie said.

"Shit…Shit…Shit…What are they doin' here?...Shit…" Pete responded.

"Take it easy, Pete…"

"Captain, one more sweep for any Germans headed toward them…Maybe they can get away…" Pete called over the intercom to their leader.

"Roger that…"

The squadron again circled and came in low. One plane waggled his wings as they passed over the Americans. They strafed any Germans who were at or near the field.

()()()()()()()()()()

Caje jumped up and raced to his squad mates. "How is it, mon ami?" he asked.

"It don't hurt too bad," Kirby replied, although his jaw was clenched and his eyes were full of pain.

"I've got most of the bleeding stopped, but we'll have dress it latter. Right now, we've gotta get outa here," Saunders said.

The Cajun picked up the BAR and slung it across his back. "C'mon, Kirby, lean on me," he said as he pulled his friend to his feet.

Kirby draped his arms over the sergeant and the scout's shoulders and they set off as quickly as they could, trying to put as much distance between themselves and the devastated train as possible.

()()()()()()()()()()

It was late afternoon by the time they reached the barn. All three of them were ready to drop, either from pain and blood loss or exhaustion. They had had to make a number of stops, first to dress the wound and then to loosen the tourniquet before again tightening it and continuing on. And, unlike the journey to the track, this time they had to evade several patrols which were searching for them.

Once safely inside, Saunders gave Kirby a shot of morphine to knock him out. While he slept, the sergeant and the scout took turns keeping watch. It was a dark night; only a sliver of the moon remained, but the stillness was occasionally punctured by artillery shelling.

At one point, the BAR man suddenly sat up. Saunders, who had been keeping watch near the barn door opening got up and went over to him.

"What's that, Sarge? Are they shootin' at us?" Kirby asked.

"No, they're ours. They're just trying to keep the Krauts honest. Lie back down, Kirby." Saunders checked his watch and then gave the BAR man the last shot of morphine.

"Where's Caje?"

"He's sleeping."

"Sarge, you an' Caje gotta leave me. You can make it back."

"Nobody's leaving anybody. We'll all make it back tomorrow. Try to get some rest, okay. Just get some rest."

Kirby finally lay back down and the sergeant returned to the barn door. He had a lot on his mind and desperately wanted a cigarette to help him think, but he didn't dare risk it. He kept an eye on Kirby until at last the morphine kicked in and he settled down.

Saunders wondered if the BAR man had believed what he just said about them all making it back together because the truth was all too evident. If they went back the way they had come, the shortest, most direct route, they would never be able to get Kirby past the Kraut outpost line tomorrow night. If they headed south and tried to find a better place to cross, that probing would take a lot of time, time Kirby didn't have.

Although there was nothing more he could do for the BAR man, what was best for Caje? Both he and the Cajun had already lost friends on the battlefield and despite Caje's rule about not getting close (4), he had allowed himself to become friends with Kirby. Saunders thought about sending Caje on ahead to bring back help, help he knew wouldn't come or wouldn't come in time. After all, the three of them wouldn't have been sent on this mission if the brass was ready to move against the Germans in this sector.

So, that was the choice. He knew he would stay with Kirby until the end, but he could either make sure Caje wasn't present when the BAR man died or, they could stay together and Kirby would die in his friend's arms.

The NCO knew that at some point he would have to make a decision. He looked again at Kirby, now resting peacefully. When he turned to look over at Caje, his glance fell on the stripes on his sleeve. Sometimes those sergeant's stripes were awfully heavy.

'Shit,' he thought. 'I wish I had a smoke.'

()()()()()()()()()()

Eventually the Krauts would find and search the barn so at first light they set out. Saunders had decided to wait until they reached the creek before sending Caje on ahead. There would be adequate cover at there and it would give them water while they waited.

The BAR man's arms were once again draped over his comrades' shoulders. It was slow going. They had been walking about two hours and still hadn't made it to the creek. Suddenly, they heard the sound of an approaching vehicle.

"Let's get Kirby behind cover," the sergeant said.

Once they got him off the road and behind some bushes, Saunders ran forward to see what was coming. It was a civilian truck; a lucky break! This would be their ride back to the American lines and a much-needed hospital for Kirby. The sergeant stepped out into the middle of the road…

The story continues in "The Casket" from Season 4 of Combat!

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1. Reference to "Infant of Prague" from season 2 of Combat!

2. Reference to 'Pvt. Joseph Lydecker - Part 2: Family' previously posted by the author.

3. Reference to "The Bridge at Chalon" from season 2 of Combat!

4. Reference to 'Pvt. Joseph Lydecker – Part 1: Nine Rules' previously posted by the author.