I stumbled along the road, not really aware of anything going on. I simply followed the throng of white spades, figuring that we must be close to our new quarters if they let us off the trucks so close to town.
"Hold along around here till I figure out where were goin'" said Sergeant Malarkey, who eyed his fold out map with one eye and with the other looked at the remnants of 2nd platoon as they fanned out along the road into town.. The motley crew of beasts scratched their tails and quills, sniveled their whiskers and tried to stay warm by stomping their footpaws and jumping up and down. I actually walked past Malarkey, both as an effort to see what was going on, and to walk off some of the frustration I couldn't help but feel. My friends had all turned me down and left me feeling like Bastogne was all my fault. I wasn't some legendary hero or anything. Just a Harvard Literature Major. In any case, I was still wallowing in my self pity when I heard a roar overhead.
"WHUEEMP" WHUEMMP!"
"88 shells" I thought to myself. Oh geeze!" Instinctively I flung myself down on the ground . Seconds later, I heard the artillery slam into the ground a few hundred meters away, well out of range. Lifting my head I saw two MP's in front of me in a half crouch, before continuing to review the chart posted up on the nearby wall. I was pushing myself up when I heard a laugh from behind me.
"Whatsa matter Webster, nervous in the service?"
Turning I saw Malarkey chuckling and eyeing me as he clutched a map of the town in his paws. It was nice to see somebody laugh, even if it was at my expense, rather then give me a cold shoulder. Sergeant Malarkey especially looked like he needed some cheering up.
I wonder who else we lost….
"Ah no haha no Sarge," I said as I picked myself up from the ground, and dusted off the snow and dirt from my jacket. In the distance I could still here the 88's firing. I flinched a little bit.
"Well," said Malarkey scratching his snout and twirling his fox tail "You should go talk to Captain Speirs. I'm sure that he's gonna want you with us. We need every beast we can get." I nodded and turned to go before his words hit home.
"Wait Captain Speirs…?" I began incredulously Wasn't he in D Company? "What happened to Captain Winters?" Immediately I thought the worst and wished I hadn't said anything. If Winters was dead then…
"He's running all of 2nd Battalion now," Malarkey said, eyes still on the map as he turned back towards the platoon. I stood and watched him walk away, my brain trying to keep up with all of the news. I turned and headed towards the large looking Tavern down the street that had been turned into the Command Post. I passed beasts whom I had never seen, all dirty and tired. I couldn't help but wonder what else went on when I was gone. Immersed in the sights and sounds, I almost passed the CP. I leaped up the set of stairs and entered through the open doorway. The place was surprisingly well lit and although a little scratched and beat up, felt homey and welcoming. There was several chairs scattered around the ground floor and the set of stairs curved upwards towards the large balcony overlooking the bar, ( or what remained of it.)
"Heyyyyy look who it is!"
Surprised, I saw it was none other than George Luz towards the end of the bar. Although his clothes and fur were still dirty, he had a bounce in his step and a healthy glimmer in his eyes. He was starting to look like his old self.
"Heya George!" I said removing my helmet and stepping from the doorway and further into the room. Propped up on beat-up looking couch was First Sergeant Lipton, who was coughing into his paw with one hand and clutching some sheets in another.
"Is he..alright?" I sai' d worriedly.
"Lip has pneumonia." George said bluntly as he handed the sergeant a large cup of coffee and propping up his pillows.
"I'm sorry to hear that," I began but George silenced me.
"Don't be sorry Web, he's got some hot food, blankets, a comfy couch, ole Lip is as snug as a bug in a rug." He said, before disappearing off down the corridor. I watched him leave and turned to face Lipton, who was drinking deeply from his mug.
"Is Captain Speirs goings to be hear soon sir?" I was told to report to him. Lipton motioned for me to sit down on one of the large chairs in the corner of the room.
"Have a seat Webster, we'll get you situated. Just as I sat down, I heard the sound of iump boots clomping on the stairs outside and suddenly, 2 beasts came marching into the room. Both had shiny new gear and clean clothes, one with lieutenant bars on his collar.
Replacements….
The shorter of the two was a young ferret, roughly 6 '1 and thin and lanky. He had an involuntary smile on his face and eyed the room, soaking up every detail with his large grey eyes.
The lieutenant was slightly taller and casually glanced around the room, scratching his long hare's ears and sniffing apprehensively. Perhaps his most distinguishing mark was the ruby ring that was on his left hand. He was a West Pointer and the way the ring sparkled and gleamed, eager to show everyone. Lipton suddenly broke the silence.
"Hello Private, .Sir. what's the situation." At that both of them snapped to attention and quickly saluted. Lipton lazily returned them.
"As you were Sergeant," spoke rabbit, "I'm Lieutenant Jones assigned to Easy Company, I'm looking for Captain Speirs."
"Private First Class Norman Nietzke, sir. Erm, what the lieutenant said, sir.
"Have a seat. Captain Speirs should be around here somewhere." said Lipton gesturing with both arms around the room. "Would you like some coffee sir, Nipski?"
"No, thank you," said Jones easing into a chair.
"Erm its Nietzke, sir," said the ferret still smiling, " And no thank you sir."
"I appreciate the correction Nietzke, and enough with the sir just call me sergeant or sarge. " said Lipton earnestly.
"Yes sarge," said Norm. He sat down next to Jones an eased back into the chair. Suddenly, he seemed to notice me for the first time. He smiled and extended a paw.
"Hey, I'm Norm. ." I smiled, happy to see that not everybody was angry with me.
"I'm Dave Webster,.. Just call me Web." We shook firmly and sat back both smiling. Jones eyed the exchange quizzically before speaking.
"So uh.. What platoon are you in?" he asked.
"Oh well we're about to find that out." Before any more snappy remarks were exchanged, Captain Speirs himself walked into the room. Even if he looked disheveled, the stoat had an aura about him that just radiated a certain coolness and mystery. However right now he sounded more like a nurse or a mother than the company commander. Completely ignoring the three of us, he instead turned his attention to Sergeant Lipton, who had begun to cough again.
"Lissen for Chrissake will you go sack up in the back," he said as he chastised Lipton, "I'm sick of telling you. Go get a bed and get some real sleep. You're not helping yourself out here."
"Yes sir, I will I will." said Lipton just yessing Speirs to death. He motioned towards us. "Oh Captain, this is Lieutenant Jones, Private Nietzke and
"Private Webster sir," I said interjecting quickly, seeing I had the opportunity to finally get my story straight. "I just got back from the hospital." I was unsure of where to go. I was in 1st platoon but Lieutenant Foley told me 2nd needed some….
"Fine fine fine," said Captain Speirs, waving me off. Clearly he had things to do. You go to second. You take Nietzke and…Jones with you. ." Speirs turned to leave. However, he hadn't gone more than 2 steps when Captain Winters and Captain Nixon entered the room. Everyone quickly saluted as Winters hurriedly entered. I felt myself breathe a great sigh of relief, knowing that he was still around. Unlike everyone else, he was clean-shaven, decked in fresh gear, and exerted a sense of security and energy with which even his busy squirrely tail seemed to show. Captain Nixon, hadn't changed a bit either as he lazily sauntered in with his rudder drooped to the ground and the small bulge in his pocket that could only be Vat 69 whiskey. Both of them quickly began to talk to Captain Speirs.
"Regiment wants a patrol tonight for prisoners at 0100. I just got the orders from Sink. Its 15 men so think real hard about who you wanna take. We gotta be careful crossing the river.
"Don't take any unnecessary risks or chances," added Nixon solemly. We're too far gone for that."
"Okay," nodded Speirs. "I'll brief the men at 1800."
" Captain," said Jones suddenly. Me and Norm both looked at him, then at each other curious as to what he was going to do.
"Captain Winters sir, request permission to go on the patrol sir." Jones stood unblinking waiting for an answer. Winters eyed him up and down, taking him in.
"Speirs, I'll talk to you later. He turned back to Jones. "Lieutenant," he nodded politely. Then he turned around and disappeared down the hallway. Jones watched him go deflated.
"Who are you?" Jones looked surprised. Captain Nixon had appeared right in front of him, looking at him curiously. Jones quickly recovered and responded.
"I'm Lieutenant Hank Jones sir." There was a flash of recognition across Nixon's face.
"Riggghhht Our West Pointer. When did you graduate?"
"June 6th Sir." Nixon's jaw dropped.
"June the 6th? Of last year?" he asked, his voice rising in disbelief. Jones sighed and closed his eyes, clearly finding the question and old nuisance that seemed to follow him around.
"D-Day yes sir." Captain Nixon let out a small chuckle at his response .
"Ahaha, alright. Well, don't get hurt." Suddenly he too was gone, disappearing out the front door. I shook my head and leaned on my rifle.
Some things never seemed to change.
Lieutenant Jones wasn't finished yet though, he turned to the last officer in the room.
"Captain Speirs, request permission to go on the patrol sir?" 3rd times the charm!
"No" said Captain Speirs brusquely, liting his face from the papers that he and Lipton were reviewing. "You don't have any experience." Jones frowned and quickly breathed out, frustrated.
"Lieutenant," said Speirs, noticing the dejected look on Jones' face. "Tell McClung, Hefforon and Ramierez that they will be part of the patrol. And get our objectives from Sergeant Malarkey. Op-2. Webster!" said Speirs, suddenly barking. I quickly turned to the Captain.
"Yes sir?"
"Take the Lieutenant and the new beast with you."
"Yes sir." I saluted sharply, Jones and Norm following suite. Speirs crisply returned the salute before going back to reviewing the papers with Lipton.
"Follow me fellas," I said marching out of the Command Post, and back outside. Quite the crew we made. The West Pointer, the new kid and the returning Harvard student.
What a war…