All soldiers that had reached their breaking point always did the same gesture. They slam their helmet down, messes up their hair, dazed that thousand-yard stare and walk away. You can talk all you want, but they couldn't hear you.
Buck did the same. After months of combat and seeing Toye and Guarnere severely wounded, he had enough. He walked away. George tried to chase, repeatedly saying "Don't leave us, Buck", "Sir, we need you", but Buck only shake his head, walked to aid station leaving George helpless. And the sight of one George Luz being helpless was depressing.
Nobody blame Buck, though. He's the only experienced officer they had. With Dike MIA to battalion HQ every now and then, Buck is Easy's last hope and he aware of that weight of responsibility. He had stood up to everything the Germans had thrown at him. But the sight of his platoon being wiped out and his two friends mangled, unnerved him. Who doesn't?
In just minutes, Easy had lost two of their most valuable NCO and the last experienced officer. All three are from 2nd Platoon.
And where is shithead Dike when this fuckness happened?
As soon as the shelling started, he instructed Lipton to "take charge of the Company" while the said asshole returned to headquarter "looking for help" (as told by George, complete with the stellar impersonation of the particular dumbass).
Ray never saw Winters that furious. But the Captain cannot do anything with Dike. Winters cannot sack Dike although Ray generously offers his service to kill (or at least apply a bitch slap) that dumbass, free of charge. Ray cannot help to realize that, for a 27 year old man, Winters looks so much older in a very short time. Perhaps it's because he's doing the job of a major while still a captain.
With Buck leaving, all Easy platoon leaders are replacement officers. Foley as 1st Platoon leader is okay, so much better in tactical and leadership skill than Peacock, but he's not experienced in leading to combat. And 2nd Platoon is having serious leadership crises.
So two days after the shelling, Winters and Nixon called Ray, Malarkey and Lipton for a private conversation in the woods behind battalion CP.
"Gents, I believe you are aware of our situation regarding our junior officers and company commander."
"With all due respect, Sir, my offer still applies. We can hide Dike's body in the wood. Nobody will know. Hell...everyone will consider us hero if we do that."
Nixon snorts. Winters pinched the bridge of his nose, smiling.
"Thank you, Ray. But we don't need such…ah… drastic action."
Ray shrugs. At least he tries.
Lipton says "But you aware that Lieutenant Dike is going to get a lot of E Company men killed, Sir?"
It's not a question. It's a statement.
Winters looks at Nixon. Nixon nods for encouragement.
"That's why we call you here. Sergeant Person, I promote you to Technical Sergeant for 1st Platoon. As a Platoon Sergeant, your duty now is to give advice to your platoon leader."
Ray stammered a "Thank you, Sir" when Winters gives him his new badge. In 2003's Army, Technical Sergeant (renamed Sergeant First Class since 1948) is equal to Gunnery Sergeant in Marine Corps. Ray's gonna be a Gunny! So he will be Lt. Foley's BFF from now on (and of course provide mentoring and tactical advice, shit like that). Just like Gunny Wynn to Lt. Fick. Awe-fucking-some! Ray does his winning dance in his head.
"Sergeant Malarkey, as Platoon Sergeant for 2nd Platoon, you will lead 2nd Platoon from now on. If I request for replacement officer for Buck now, the Army would sent replacements just over from the States, after completing a hurry-up training program."
Malarkey nods "Understand, Sir."
"And 1st Sergeant Lipton, regarding our company commander, you know my opinion and my options about this. As our most senior NCO, I'm sure you already know what you have to do." Winters…subtle as always.
"Yes, Sir."
"Gentlemen, I have a complete trust in you to hold our men together. That'll be all. Hang tough."
Ray, Malarkey and Lipton nod together and say in unison "Yes, Sir".
"Hola, Perconte. Look who's your new boss! Oh…hey…Luzzy…didn't see you there."
"Aw..shit! You got promoted Ray?!"
"Fuck yeah, Brother! Finally the Captain sees my true warrior spirit. What you guys doing?"
"Fixing the radios. Gimme the screwdriver, Frank."
"Did the Captain got smack in the head or sumtin'? The hell you got promoted?"
"Frank, sweetums, Foley needs guardian angel. Put him on the right track and shit. I'm a fucking seasoned veteran, homes. That's why Winters promote me."
"Guardian angel my ass. And I'm supposed to trust you to give 'tactical advice' to my platoon leader in a combat?"
"I'm a fucking Recon Marine, asshole. A swift, silent and deadly devil dog. And when will you acknowledge my superb leadership, Frank? We've been in the same platoon since England. Or Toccoa it you consider my Gramp."
"That's exactly why." Frank mumbles.
"And 2nd platoon?"
"Malarkey takes the lead, George."
"No officer?"
"It's better than another fresh graduate officer."
"Foley is a replacement officer, Ray."
"I know, George. Though Foley just join us since Bastogne, but lucky for us, he's okay enough. What if the replacement officer for 2nd platoon turned up to be like that chickenshit Dike? Winters didn't want to take that risk, especially if we want to attack Foy soon."
"Malarkey is good, George. Don't worry. Your platoon is in the right hand."
"Yeah, I know that, Frank. I'm not against Malarkey. His 'luck of the Irish' does well for him so far. But do you realize that he never seriously wounded? It makes him always in the front line since Normandy. I just hope he's not gonna snapped like Buck."
"He won't, George. I got a feeling that he won't like Buck."
"Yeah…Ray's right. Malark got Muck and Penk to support him. Those three are like joined in hip or something."
"But as long as we got a certain dickhead as our CO, we're still screwed."
"True that, George. True that."
George suddenly slams his screwdriver "Shit…Frank… your radio worked? I don't know what's wrong with mine. I've checked everything."
"Mine's working well."
"Have you checked the mic, George?"
"Mmm…no. It won't start, so why I should check the mic?"
"It might get frozen from condensation. You know…from our breath. Next time, make sure you don't talk directly to the mic."
George raised his eyebrows.
Ray sighs…his friends always underestimate his genius "Look…in my time, I'm the best damn RTO in my platoon, you fucker. I know about this shit."
George opens the mic and…voila…there's a layer of ice on the thing.
"Joshie Ray … You're godsend!"
"I fucking told you… don't call me Joshie!"
Days after that are consists of playing assistant/mentor for Foley, in addition of helping Lipton playing mother hen to Easy men. Ray glad that he and Foley are in the same wavelength when Foley semi-cursing when Dike was "missing" again right before a patrol. And when Foley laugh at Ray's comment ("What do you expect, Sir? That certain dickhead is a mutant love child of one menage a trois between a donkey, a chicken and an ostrich"), Ray officially stamps Foley's forehead with a "Stupid-free Officer".
On January 9, Easy finally cleared the U-shaped woods around Foy. Since they arrived in Bastogne, they repeatedly hold the line and pushed the German further back, albeit the shelling and German's Panzer fashion show. And now…It's time to repay, motherfucker!
But the Germans apparently never really completely surrender either.
The first shell came when Ray's foxhole in only half finished. He fell flat in his belly, hands on his helmet. A shell dropped next to his foxhole, sent gust of hot wind that blows him into a tree. Shit! That was danger close. His shoulder and upper arm hurts like hell but fortunately no broken bone or dislocation. It's gonna be a nasty bruise later.
Sick of this clusterfuck, Ray shouts in the top of his lung "Come-the- fuck-on! Fucking surrender already, you asshole!"
The shelling stops as soon as it started. A horrible scream of "Medic! Help!" rang out. It's George's.
A voice in Ray's head screaming "No, no, no, no. Shit! No…Not George. Please not him."
George was in the open when the shelling started. Muck and Penkala were shouting to him to jump into their foxhole. So when the shell directly hit their foxhole, George saw it.
When Ray arrived, George was digging frantically in Muck and Penkala' foxhole. Babe besides him looking up, hoping that Muck or Penkala blown up into the trees. But there's nothing. Not in the foxhole, or in the trees. They only found some pieces of bodies and a part of a sleeping bag. And a piece of Muck's rosary.
Ray and Frank have to drag George from the foxhole.
"They want me to jump into their foxhole. They're still in there, Ray. Help me dig. Please, help me dig."
It breaks Ray's heart to seeing George like this.
"No, George. They're gone. You saw it. They took direct hit. Let it go, George."
"George…here, buddy…here…have a smoke."
"Malarkey…where's Malarkey. I have to tell him. Muck's rosary. Gotta give it to him."
Even in his distress, George Luz still taking care of other people.
"George, Lipton will take care of it. Just smoke, okay? You got me and Frank."
George finally sits down and receives Frank's cigarettes. His hand still shaking.
"Malarkey…I hope…I hope he's gonna be okay. He nearly shot himself, you know? After Hobbler died. He told me. We can't lose him. Not after Buck."
Shit! Ray doesn't know about this. Loosing Hoobler and now his best friends, Muck and Penkala, Malarkey must be very traumatized.
"Don't worry about him, George. I'll talk to Lipton. He knows how to handle this. Just…just try to calm down, okay? Frank, you stay with George. Give him chocolate. I know you have it. If you don't, ask Doc. After the adrenalin back to normal level, his blood sugar will be dropped drastically. Chocolate will make him feel better a little bit until chow time."
As he walks, looking for Lipton, Ray silently pray to who-the-fuck-ever cares. To bring him home. To keep him save. To get him out from this freezing hell. He is no longer able to see his friends being shredded to pieces.
"I'm Corporal Josh Ray Person. I'm a Recon Marine. I have friends. Brad Colbert. Nate Fick. Walt Hasser. James Trombley. Reporter what-his-name. Poke. Fruity Rudy. I'm in Bravo 2. I have to go home. I have to go home."
Ray repeatedly says that in his mind like a mantra. The only thing that make him sane.
Capturing Foy is not the real objective; Noville and the higher ground are. But to capture Noville, they need tank support. And tank needs roads. Ergo, Foy it is.
It will be a simple but brutal operation. All they have to do is to run for 200m across an open, snow-covered field, down into the village, where every window on the said village either has a sniper or a machine gun. Oh…don't forget about the 88s and other armored weapons and tanks. And the Krauts will be snugly covered with brick-and-mortar protection. Convenient.
Winters appoint Easy to lead assault. The orders from him are simple: at 0900 hours, get across the field as quick as possible. At the briefing, Winters explains the order with simple language to Dike as if the asshead is a toddler. Dike nods sleepily and yawns. Foley has to restrains Ray so Ray doesn't walk toward the said dumbass to deliver a bitch slap. So Ray reverts to beat his head repeatedly against the nearest tree. Foley commiserated by patted his back.
Ray whispers "Sir, please remind me to fed Dike to fucking Kraut prisoner after this clusterfuck is over."
Foley sniggers "Will do, Sergeant. Will do. Let's tell the boys about the plan, okay?"
So this is the plan: Winters will place two machine guns from HQ section in the edge of the forest to provide covering fire. 1st platoon, led by Foley, will covering the left flank. They will come on area with shacks, cow pens, scattered trees and some haystacks. They will maintain the formation while securing those shacks and other small outbuilding. That's the general idea. Sounds pretty much easy.
The first five minutes or so is going great. They maintain a tight formation and moving in a good pace. Ray is clearing a shack when suddenly he hears Dike ordered them to stop. In the middle of the field. Just because the stupid ass cannot see Foley and the 1st platoon. So, the peanut brain of his think that 2nd and 3rd platoon must also stop and join him gossiping behind a haystack.
As soon as the 1st platoon able to caught up, Foley ran to Dike for order, while the rest of them take cover in anything that can cover their sorry ass.
FUCKING STUPID SON OF A BITCH! YOU MAKE US FUCKING SITTING DUCKS! MAY YOUR ROTTEN PEANUT OF A BRAIN GOT BLOWN UP AND YOUR ASS BEING FED TO THE KRAUTS!
Ray has to breathe several times to stop thinking in capital letters. Acting like a bitch with PMS is so not helping for team morale. He faintly hears Winters shouting from the edge of the forest, ordering them to move forward.
From Ray's position behind the shack, he can see Foley's face getting more and more agitated while talking with Dike. And when Foley is back to them, Ray hears the most ridiculous order he ever heard.
"Lieutenant Dike orders the 1st platoon on a wide flanking movement to the left, circle the village and launches an attack from the far side. Dike said he was keeping the platoon's mortar and machine-gun men with him, to provide suppressing fire."
The only thing than come out of Ray's mouth are "The fuck?"
But no time to argue. They only have minutes to plan the route.
Ray lost five men in the attack. He can easily blame it all to Dike. Five men in Ray's responsibility, five men that depend on him for their life, wasted their young life (some of them are teenager, even not old enough for buying beer) in a snow-covered field. It feels worse than to losing your friend.
Ray's hand is shaking when collecting their dog tags. He will give them to Lt. Speirs, so the new appointed Easy CO can write "consolation" letters for the dead soldiers' family.
Ray vaguely remembers the fight since Dike ordered them to attack from the far side. Ray remembers he runs from tree to tree, from shack to shack, led his boys while pinned down by snipers and machine guns. He remembers he couldn't move further. One replacement baby died in front of him, a bullet between his eyes.
Then he remembers Frank inform him that Speirs has relieved Dike and taking over the assault. Seconds later he saw Speirs run across the field and then run directly through the German line toward the I company, and ran back. After that, 1st platoon able to move again.
Easy won the test of will. They had taken Foy. But not without with the unnecessary cost of life due to shithead command.
"Lieutenant Speirs, Sir."
"Sergeant Person is it?"
"Yes, Sir. Here are my platoon's casualty dog tags. We have five dead, two wounded."
"Thank you, Sergeant. But you should give it to Sergeant Lipton, he's helping me doing the administration."
"Will do, Sir. Permission to speak, Sir?"
Speirs only nods. His face icy as ever, he reminds Ray of Brad.
"We're lucky Winters appointed you to replace Dike or maybe we will have more casualties. Finally Easy has a good leader."
"You and Lipton also did a good job, Sergeant. From what I've heard from the men."
"It's our job, Sir. With a dickass as a CO, what else can we do? Someone has to unfuck the situation."
Speirs lift one of his eyebrows. A little amused, Ray thinks.
"One more thing, Sir. That run across the German line thing… Seriously… That was the motherfucking best." Ray grins.
Speirs gives his rare smile, that honestly, a little bit unsettling "Glad I can entertain you, Sergeant."
"You damn right, Sir. It's gonna be a legend. So…um…I'll go check on Perconte. His ass got shot. That's kinda Easy's tradition, Sir. Getting shot in the ass and went AWOL from hospital. Just so you know. Welcome to Easy, Sir."
Speirs smiles again, a little bit warm this time, and nods "Thank you for the notification, Sergeant."