FUBAR
Chapter 8
"We're moving out tomorrow night, Colonel," Boswell reported. "Our instructions are to meet a crucial contact, and that's all we can tell you for now."
"For now?" Hogan didn't like the sound of that.
"Depending on what happens after that, we may or may not be back here to arrange for a pick up."
"Figures," Hogan sighed. "Go ahead. You can rest up down here. Just stay out of the way, it's crowded." Five fliers were waiting to be processed.
There were mixed feelings when Boswell and Garrett left the tunnels the next evening. An unspoken concern for their safety, combined with relief, was the order of the day.
"They really weren't bad guys, you know, fellas," Carter offered his opinion while checking over a luger that the colonel would be carrying with him on that night's mission.
"You always see the best in everyone, Andrew."
"Well, Peter. We are on the same side."
"True. But when those two show up, trouble follows. Mark my words."
"Any updates, Kinch? Oh, thanks, Carter," Hogan who was dressed in black, said, taking the pistol from Carter's outstretched hand.
"There's a raid scheduled later tonight, but you have plenty of time to get back."
"The meeting shouldn't take long," Hogan reminded his men.
Newkirk, always the worrywart, offered himself as backup.
Hogan insisted on going alone, as per London's orders. He left the tunnel and set off.
"I hate it when he goes on these solo missions," Newkirk grumbled. That was something the men left behind could agree on.
It was a bomber's moon that evening. The air was still, and a slight chill portended the upcoming cooler months. In his dreams, Hogan was still flying missions over German territory, and now he occasionally and wistfully gazed at the sky as he walked towards the meeting place. As he got closer to the prearranged spot, the colonel slowed down. London's orders, which were for his eyes only, were explicit. Get the information, get out, and wait for immediate pickup by a courier plane to take him and the information to Allied Territory in France. Hopefully, this will shorten the war, Hogan thought as he took a few deep breaths to calm his racing heartbeat. He crouched down in the brush and waited.
Boswell and Garrett were also on the way to their meeting with an important contact. Both agents were to arrange for duplicate copies of the plans being turned over to the Allies. Then they would each make separate trips back to France, increasing the odds that at least one would get through. After reaching the meeting point, the two men drew their weapons, concealed themselves behind some boulders and watched and listened.
"Shh," Boswell mouthed to Garrett. He signaled he had heard something, and then stopped; false alarm. He signaled again. Garrett nodded and they both continued their vigil.
After an hour, Hogan decided his contact was a no show. He had to move to get back to camp in order to avoid the air raid which was scheduled to begin in a few hours. Disappointed at the failure of the mission, but also concerned that the contact had been caught, he decided the best thing to do was to get out of the area as soon as possible. "This better not be a trap," he muttered to himself as he extricated himself from the brush. Checking to see that the coast was clear, Hogan stretched his sore muscles and started to move.
Boswell and Garrett were having more success than the colonel. About to give up, they heard another sound, and spied a figure several hundred yards away.
"That's him," Garrett, who had the better view, signaled to Boswell. They waited, still not showing themselves, until the man got closer.
Hogan stopped dead in his tracks. He could have sworn he'd heard some motion. His first thought was that it was an animal, but he was now certain that the noise was made by a human. Drawing the luger, he crouched down closer to the ground. "A ship in the harbor is safe," he said softly.
"That's our line," Boswell looked over at Garrett.
"A ship in the harbor is safe," Hogan repeated.
"How can this guy mix up something so important?" But Boswell decided to take a chance. "But that's not what it's built for." (1)
Hogan, with his gun drawn, came out into the open.
Boswell and Garrett, their weapons out as well, approached.
"What the…?" Hogan almost dropped his gun.
"Are you freaking kidding me?" Garrett yelled.
"All right, either someone is playing a really big practical joke, or there's been a big mix-up," Hogan stated. "And let's get out of the open. And put your damn guns down!"
Boswell and Garrett lowered their weapons.
"Looks like we all were sent to meet the same contact, Colonel." Boswell stated the obvious.
"On purpose or by accident?" Hogan, who was now in a state of utter exasperation, replied.
"Beats me," Boswell shrugged, "But he's not here, obviously. How long you been waiting?"
"An hour," Hogan replied. "You?"
"About the same." Garrett stood up, checked around and then crouched down. "Guess we're out of here. This was a make or break situation."
"Same with me," Hogan said. He got up off the ground and started walking. "I'm heading back to camp." He looked at the two agents. "Um, you two got other plans?"
"Not now." Boswell followed and Garrett picked up the rear. No one said anything for about a quarter of a mile, until a dull drone could be heard in the distance.
"That can't be right," Hogan said softly. He turned on his flashlight and looked at his watch. "Too early," he mumbled.
"Not right? What's not right?" Boswell asked nervously.
"Look." Hogan pointed. Headed directly towards them was a large group of American bombers. "Run!" Hogan screamed. The sky suddenly lit up with a barrage of antiaircraft fire.
***************
The guys back in the camp heard the drone of the planes as well. Dust started flying from the ceiling as the bombs began to fall.
Kinch cursed as he caught his equipment before it hit the ground.
"There wasn't supposed to be a raid for another two hours!" Newkirk yelled above the din, as everyone tried to batten down the hatches. "Colonel Hogan's still out there!"
"It was a quick exchange of plans. He should be back soon." Kinch looked at his watch.
"Boswell and Garrett are also out there," Carter, returning from his workshop, noted as he wiped some dirt out of his hair.
"They're probably long gone," Kinch reassured the sergeant. "Everyone up top," he warned.
Hogan, Boswell, and Garrett, in danger of getting caught in a storm of flak, shells, shrapnel and railroad ties, were still running, with Hogan leading the way. Several times, concussions would send the three tumbling off their feet, but they quickly righted themselves, and continued heading pell-mell through the forest. Where to, Boswell and Garrett didn't know.
They just blindly followed Hogan, who was more familiar with the terrain. Suddenly, a bomb missed its mark, and exploded. Hogan, who had the wind knocked out of him, lay still for a moment, then regained his senses. Boswell, already on his feet, saw that Garrett was face- down on the ground.
"Mitch!" Boswell threw himself down and crawled over to his partner. Hogan was right behind him.
"Ouch."
"You're not dead," Boswell said with relief.
"Roll him over." Hogan took a hold of Garrett's side and gently moved him, while Boswell helped. Garrett's abdomen was bleeding. "We can't stay here, we'll be flattened. Can you stand?"Hogan asked.
"Don't know, Colonel," Garrett groaned. Hogan and Boswell helped him onto his feet. Garrett momentarily saw stars and almost collapsed.
"Come on," Hogan and Boswell grabbed Garrett under his arms, "This way." Hogan turned. "There's a cave we use for a hideout. That's where we're heading." Despite Garrett's pain, the three made good time; most likely due to the sheer terror caused by the cacophony of bombs and shells still flying all around them. They propped the injured man against the wall. "We have supplies in the back." Hogan walked further in, while Boswell examined Garrett's wounds.
"Oh, great. What else could possibly go wrong?" Hogan, who could barely hear himself think over the bombs, booms and blasts, found the storage area to be ransacked. The tins of food were gone. Hogan climbed over the mess. The lanterns, kerosene and flashlights were also missing. Hogan figured civilians, possibly children, were the scavengers. It wasn't the first time this had happened. He picked up some blankets and a box of basic first aid supplies. Definitely kids, he figured. They hadn't looked far or high enough to find several bottles of hard liquor that someone – Olsen or LeBeau, Hogan guessed – had stored up on a natural shelf. "What's the story?" Hogan yelled at Boswell when he headed back towards the front of the cave.
"Not fatal, Colonel, but we need to clean out the shrapnel before the pieces move or the wounds get infected."
"I think we should move in deeper," Garrett grimaced.
"He's right." Hogan grabbed the wounded agent and with Boswell's assistance carried Garrett further into the cave. Hogan then ran back to the supplies, and returned with the bottles of liquor.
"Colonel, if you hold your flashlight, I can try and clean this out. What do you have that's sterile?" Boswell asked.
Before Hogan could answer, all three men heard the telltale whistle.
"Incoming!" Hogan shouted. He and Boswell threw themselves over Garrett as the bomb exploded.
(1) William Shedd