Part 5

They started off slow, out of necessity, as they moved through dense brush and trees on the downward slope of the hillside. All too quickly, though, they reached flat, open ground stretching for a quarter mile in front of them.

Janovec could see 1st platoon picking up their pace and beginning to move at a shuffling run through the knee deep snow.

"Come on, boys, let's move!" Lipton hollered at his platoon.

Clutching his M-1 tighter, he began staggering through the snow, attempting to move fast and keep his footing at the same time.

So far, so good. They had made it almost two-thirds of the way through the open expanse and had yet to be on the receiving end of Kraut artillery.

Just then, bullets began whizzing past him through the air, kicking up little puffs of snow where they missed their targets.

He could hear Dike hollering from somewhere in the midst of the chaos for the company to fall back. Janovec couldn't believe his ears. Fall back? They were already more than halfway through the extreme danger zone and stood a much better chance of making it to the edge of the town where they could hunker down and regroup.

The platoons were beginning to stretch out, with men stopping dead in their tracks, men scattering to duck behind haystacks, and men up in the front of the advance who hadn't heard Dike's order to retreat and kept going.

"Find some cover!" Lipton shouted at them.

Not knowing what else to do, Janovec dove behind the nearest haystack along with Malarkey while Lipton went to find Dike.

"Jesus Christ, I thought we'd at least make it into Foy before the dumbass got us killed, but I guess I was wrong," hissed Malarkey with disgust.

Janovec couldn't have agreed more. How in the world were they going to move now? The Germans had their position spotted and it was more than a minor miracle they hadn't started shelling them yet.

Peeking around the edge of the hay, he could see Dike, Lipton, Luz, and a few others at a haystack about 20 yards away. Dike wasn't doing anything, just sitting there, with a panicked look of indecision on his face.

This wasn't going to be good. Something had to happen fast before they all got themselves killed.

Even with all the talk about Dike being an incompetent fool, he never really thought he'd end up dying today. However, that opinion was rapidly changing as the German's rate of fire increased dramatically and the Brrrrrp! of an MG filled the air.

Oh, God, he really didn't want to die, there was so much he had left to do with his life, so many dreams he wanted to realize. He knew he had no real choice in the matter, but to have lived through all those hellish weeks in the forest, to have lived through the drop into Holland, only to die like this seemed such an unfair way to go. He wanted to cry, he wanted to yell, wanted to do anything to show his disgust at being put into such a stupid situation, one which could have been easily prevented with a little thought and awareness. He didn't want to die. Not like this.

Then, he caught a flash of movement off the side and saw a lone figure running down the hillside. As the figure came closer, he was able to see it was Captain Speirs, from Dog Company, who was fast approaching. He sprinted over to where Dike was, said something he couldn't make out to the man, and then turned to Lipton.

Thank God, it looked like Speirs was taking over. They might just live after all.

Lipton darted back over to them.

"Malarkey, link up with Muck and Penkala, they're the next stack over. I need you guys to drop some mortar rounds on the building with the caved in roof. Keep at it till it's gone. Janovec, come with me."

He was on his feet in a flash. Just a few short moments ago, he was sure he was a goner. Now, to have that certain death sentence lifted, he felt a renewed sense of energy.

He stayed with Lipton as they made their way to the low fence surrounding the edge of Foy.

Crouching behind a fencepost, he watched for any signs of movement, fully prepared to shoot the first thing that moved who wasn't a paratrooper. Dike excluded.

Two men ran out of a building to his three o'clock, dressed in overwhites and carrying an ammo box between them. Leveling his rifle, he took careful aim and squeezed the trigger twice. Two bodies fell to the ground.

He used this as his chance to move to a more concealed position by a little brick house. Staying low, he moved around the corner and spotted 1st platoon already advancing through Foy.

Standing up, he ran over to where men were securing buildings and joined in. Their suspicions had been correct, the town was only minimally manned, and those there did not put up much resistance once they realized how outnumbered they were.

Less than an hour after it had started, the attack on Foy was over. But not without a cost.

Several good men had lost their lives that day, including several young replacement privates. A fair number of others were wounded, but fortunately, none were too severe.

He wanted to know what happened to Dike, but couldn't bring himself to ask Lipton who looked exhausted. He'd find out soon enough.

He figured he'd be grateful to Speirs the rest of his life for rescuing them from Dike. It was a relief to go into combat again with a leader who knew what they were doing.

The 4th Infantry was moving into the area that evening, which meant they'd be pulled back shortly, off the line and back into some degree of civilization.

He couldn't wait. Already thoughts of hot chow and sleeping indoors were running rampant through his head.

He couldn't believe it. He'd made it. He'd lived.