Part 6

That evening, they spent the night sheltered in a nearby church, listening to the choir of heavenly voices as they sang words of comfort and faith, both of which were distant memories for Janovec and the rest of the men.

He sat on a hard wooden pew, rifle propped up between his legs and helmet in his lap, just enjoying the warmth and safety the moment held. It felt so good to be inside again, to be dry, and to not have ice and snow frozen to his helmet and weapon.

Breathing a gentle sigh, he felt himself beginning to doze off slightly, eyes barely open. He heard the murmur of voices off to the side and, focusing slightly, was able to make out one of the speakers as being Lipton.

He hadn't felt this relaxed in months. He guessed that after spending so long on the line, any sudden reprieve would be magical in its effects on the men. He figured if he was feeling this good, the others weren't too far off from his state either.

Twisting a little in his seat, he let himself slump over to the side a bit and rest against whoever was sitting next to him, hoping he didn't disturb them.

His eyes slipped shut and he slept.

Part 7

He woke in the morning to the sounds of trucks rumbling by outside and light streaming through the stained glass windows far above his head, throwing a rainbow of colors over himself and those who still slept.

Arching his arms over his head, he stood slowly, slinging his rifle over his shoulder and placing his battered helmet back on his head.

As he moved toward the door, Janovec caught sight of Lipton leaning against the doorframe, smoking a cigarette and watching the vehicles move into town.

Lighting his own cigarette, he moved to stand next to Lip.

"How's it goin', Sarge?"

"Alright, Janovec, alright. How're you holdin' up?"

"Me? I'm good. Got to sleep inside last night, didn't I?" He said with a small smile.

Lipton huffed a small laugh and took another drag on his cigarette.

"You have a point there, Private."

"So, Lip, what's the story? What're all those trucks for?"

Sighing, Lipton tossed his cigarette to the ground, stubbing it out with the toe of his boot.

"We're moving out this afternoon to Hagenau to relieve the forces already occupied there. We'll be leaving at 1400 hours. That's all I know."

"You serious, Sarge?"

"Why don't you get your gear in order, have everything ready to go. I'm gonna check on the rest in there, wake 'em up and get 'em going."

"Got it." He hurriedly finished the rest of his smoke and set to policing up his gear, not that he had much with him, but what he did have he wanted to make sure he kept.

As he gathered his stuff, he thought about Hagenau, where it was, and what they'd be doing there. The last time they relieved a division, they'd spent a month freezing and dying in the forest. He hoped this time wouldn't be as bad and that they'd actually have a roof over their heads and hot chow once or twice a day.

Once he was finished inside, he wandered out to sit on the stone fence that ran along side the dirt road just to watch what was going on. He saw the occasional deuce and a half pass, filled to the brim with supplies; saw locals dart from their houses to their barns and back, shooing clucking chickens back inside where they'd be safe from hungry soldiers.

Luz joined him after awhile, sitting down next to him and fiddling with his radio.

"Something's wrong with the damn thing, but I don't know what," Luz muttered as he twisted a few knobs before giving up and smacking the metal box.

"It was working fine yesterday, and then when I woke up today, I couldn't pick anything up at all."

"Maybe if you leave it alone it'll start working again," Janovec suggested, having no knowledge of radios and how they worked whatsoever.

"Yeah, maybe. Heard we're movin' out again."

"Yeah, that's what Lip says."

"At the rate they move us around, you'd think we were the only goddamn division in the entire army. Couldn't they find someone else, anyone else, to send into Hagenau? Maybe some people who haven't been living in foxhole for the past month?"

"Tell me about it, George. And here I was, thinking we'd actually get a break for once." He sighed.

"So, how much longer we got til we have to leave here?"

"Well, Lip said we'd be moving out around 1400 hours so we have," pausing for a moment, Janovec glanced down at his watch, trying to make out the hands of the clock through the filthy face. "About 40 minutes left."

"Well, I'm gonna find the rest of the guys, see what they're doing before I go looking for the trucks. Maybe try and figure what the hell's wrong with this thing," he said kicking at the radio resting by his feet. As soon as his boot struck the side, the box came to life, issuing forth static and bits of transmissions.

"Whaddya know?" George said. "Guess I shoulda kicked the damn thing in the first place."