Apparently, they have to occupy a tiny village of Cobru and then Recogne before they can reach Noville. And to reach Cobru, they have to across a 2 kilometers of open and snow-covered field (again), in a bright sunny day. In Colonel Sink's words to Winters, "2nd Battalion would have the honor of leading the attack on Noville". Which of course can be translated as "Easy is the spearhead. Now get it done!"

Woo-hoo… talk about de ja vu.

But thank you the almighty deity above, Easy got Winters AND Speirs now. They took advantage of a fairly deep shoulder running southwest out of Noville to near Recogne. Winters put the battalion in single file to cut through the snow, dangerous but quick. Meanwhile, Speirs set up two machine-guns to covering them to dash across a small stream. By night, they finally worked their way to the southeast corner of Cobru.

And that night is most fucking cold night of Ray's miserable life.

They had worked up a sweat getting to Cobru and now their clothes are fucking freezes, it crackles when they move. There are no trees to protect them from the wind. They sleep in a shallow foxhole, because the soil is frozen. No shelter at all and it's fucking snowing.

"The fuck are we doing here, Ray? I thought after we got Foy, we will get some roof. I'm sick being in the front line."

"Ike wants some action, Monty wants some action, Taylor wants some action, Sink wants some actions, Winters screwed, Speirs screwed, thus us screwed. That's the logic, George."

"Shit! Frank and Bill are got warm bed in the hospital. Bill might be in hospital in Paris by now, waiting for flight home. And Frank is brushing his teeth while his ass is being wipe by a hot nurse. While here we are, in who-the-fuck-cares-where; freeze our sorry asses in a foxhole again."

"At least we got Speirs. No more retarded command from now. Try some shut eye, George. Save your pissy-bitch-in-PMS mood for tomorrow. There are some Krauts in Noville, and they can't wait to pamper us with their 88s and Panzers."

"That will be a helluva treat."

"Mm hmm"

"You know, Ray…Not trying to be sappy and all that, but you matured a lot lately. I mean…not much crazy rants, and you're helping Lipton…you've change, buddy. And that's good. Kinda proud of you."

"Aaaw…shucks…you want to make an honest woman out of me, George? Because you make me fucking blush. But sorry, homes. I only interested with big tits and childbearing hips." Ray gestures the tits and the hips in detail. "Unfortunately, you're lack of that quality."

George laugh for the first time today "You are one messed up redneck, Ray. Just like your Gramp."

"That reminds me, George…If I go back to my time, and my Gramp back to this sexy bod" Ray pauses because George makes a gagging sound "Will you make sure he read his diary? It's in the backpack."

"Sure thing, Ray. Do you think your Gramp is somewhere in that big head of yours?"

"The hell if I know?! I'm not a regularly time travel and snatch my Gramps body. Erg…"

"Don't you dare say 'Ergo', Ray! Or I swear to God I'll butt your head with my rifle."

"The fuck with the aggressiveness, dude?! I was in debate team, you asshole, so I know fancy words! Fine! If I'm not allowed to flaunt my educated vocabulary, I will use 2nd grade vocab when I'm talking to you. So may I repeat… I'm not a regularly time travel and snatch my Gramps body, thaaaaat's fucking whyyy….I wrote in my Gramps diary. To make sure he knows what I did."

George grins "Thoughtful aren't ya. Wait...you're in debate team?"

"Do you have to be that surprised?"

George grins. They sit in silence for several minutes when George talks again.

"Will you search for me, Ray? I mean…if you get back to 2003, will you find me?"

Shit! Why George's question feels like a goodbye?

"Fucking A, homes."

"Huh?"

"A is for affirmative. It's… uh…modern military slang."

"I do really concern about the fate of English language in the future."

"Says the man who doesn't want to hear the word 'Ergo'."

"Touché…"

"I'll find you guys. I promise. I'll abuse Brad's laptop and fucking Google for your address or harass the staff in public record if I have to."

"I have no idea about half of the thing you've said. But I do hope I will see you again…in assumption that I'm not becoming a senile old man in 2003." The words 'or if I'm not dead yet' was not said, but thickly implied.

"Gah…a man like you? You, Bill and Frank are stubborn enough to become senile. Nuh-uh…that's ain't gonna happen." Ray says the last sentence with the sassy fingers.

"Thanks, Ray. Just in case I forget to tell you this in the future…um…what is it you usually said? Got my six? Yeah…that…I'm glad you got my six."

Ray nods, fighting the lump in his throat "Ditto, homes. Let's try to sleep, okay? "

But the night is too fucking cold to sleep.

"Fuck this shit! Let's find Winters. Volunteering for recon patrol is so much better than freezing my balls off. Coming, George?"

"F-F-Fine…let me prepare my radio."

George and Ray then walk toward Winter's CP. They found Lipton and Speirs already there. Lipton and Speirs are talking with Winters while Nixon reading some papers and sometimes sipping his Vat 69 straight from the bottle. Ray thinks Nixon takes the advantage of Col. Sink is not around.

"You want it on the rocks, Sir? We got plenty here."

Nixon lifts his head and grins "No thank you, Ray. High quality whiskey, like my baby over here, is better served neat. You want some?"

"You're sharing your Vat?" Winters lifts his eyebrows.

"Ray here understands liquors, Dick. I can't talk about liquor with you, can't I?"

"Thanks for the offering, Sir. But I prefer the most hideous pink cocktail with pineapple and umbrella on the side, and then drink it with a straw. Preferably while wearing a flower crown, grass skirt and coconut bra."

Nixon snorts. Winters confused. Speirs' lips twitches. Lipton grins and shakes his head. George mumbles something like "Can you be more queers."

"Ahem…right…sorry, Sir. That was one scary image. Right…so…George and I are here to volunteer for recon patrol and gathered more accurate intel of the city. I'm not comfortable to go on an attack without knowing what's up ahead."

Winters smiles "Are you and Lipton have telepathy?"

Nixon gasps "Are you making a joke, Dick? Well…Congratulations, Ray. I think you are successful in corrupting our Battalion Commander."

Winters snorts (everybody gasps) and then rolls his eyes (more gasps) "Oh, for crying out loud! I'm not allowed to make jokes? Just…back to our business then. 1st Sergeant Lipton here already suggests the same thing, Sergeant Person. And I'm agree with both of you. But be carefull. You just observe."

"Solid copy, Captain. Observe everythng, admire nothing."

When Ray, Lipton and George leave the CP, they still can hear Nixon talks to Winters and Speirs.

"I've told you he will be an asset for Intel, Dick"

"I'm not sure I want to shot him between his eyes or to give him commendation."

Winters chuckles "And you only know him for a few days, Lieutenant Speirs."

The scout was proofed to be worthwhile since it gives the needed information about German's strength. The fuckers still hold the city with their panzers and multiple array of heavy machinery. The most disturbing sight is the remains of burnt Shermans and American bodies, frozen and scattered all around the city. They have been left there since December 20. So it's not a very pretty sight.

When they start the attack of Noville at dawn, Easy know where to attack and where they can take cover. Ray's platoon is clearing up buildings while 2nd platoon are quickly spearheading into the center of Noville. 3rd platoon is behind them as reserve and clearing a building for set up a CP.

Ray is just finished cleared the fourth building when he sees George take cover behind a burnt Sherman. George's is talking in his radio so he doesn't see a Panzer coming towards him.

"GEORGE! MOVE THE FUCK OUT! GEORGE!"

But he is too far.

The Panzer stopped and, swiveling its turret. It will put a shell into the burnt Shermans, most likely to prevent the American to use the still functioning Sherman guns.

And George is not aware of this.

Without thinking, Ray ran as fast as he can.

He doesn't hear Foley shout at him.

He doesn't care the Germans shooting at him.

He's too focus to warns George to move from the Sherman.

"GEORGE! MOVE OUT! MOVE THE FUCK OUT!"

George finally locked eyes with him. And thank goodness he quickly aware of the situation and run to the nearest wall for cover. Ray keeps running towards him.

They say that if you can't hear a mortar, it means they're close.

A mortar explodes just a few meters from Ray's feet.

Ray's flying. Everything is upside down.

It feels like he's flying for hours until his back hits a wall and his body touches the ground again.

He can see George's mouth shouts something. Probably Ray's name. And he starts to run towards Ray's limp body.

He can see Doc Roe runs and skidded next to him. His soft voice repeatedly says "You're gonna be fine, Person. Stay with me. Stay with me, Ray." While he start doing his healing work.

Ray starts to see black. But he can still hear George voice, shaking "Ray…Ray…Please, buddy. Stay alive. We'll meet again. Stay alive, Ray."

And then nothing.

Ray hears voices. They sound muffled at first, but gradually, they become clearer.

De ja vu. Ray thinks.

And he feels hot. Like sunburned- hot.

And then he hears a voice that he didn't hear for a long time.

"Doc, is he gonna be alright? Fuck!" Brad sounds panic and concerned. It's so Un-Iceman-ly

"I can't really tell, Brad. That's one fucking blow in his neck. He might have cervical fracture. I'll put a collar just in case. He must cas-evac-ed immediately for X-Ray."

Wait…hold up? Brad and Doc Bryan?

Ray opens his eyes too fast; he's got blinded from the sun.

"Whoa, Person. Take it easy, man. How are you feeling?"

The sun. The heat. The sand under his body. He's in fucking Iraq!

Ray wants to scream. After nearly one and a half years, after he repeatedly losing hope, after he saw his friends shredded in pieces…he finally back to buttfuck Iraq?! Convenient!

And how about George?! How about Easy?!

Are they real? Is it not just a limbo or some fuck like that?

It's real. George, Frank and Bill are real. Easy is real.

Deep breath, Ray.

Good. One. Two. Three.

You can find out about them later. One thing at a time.

Put on your mask. Adapt.

You've done this before. Fucking adapt, Ray! One fucking thing at a time.

Hang tough...

"'mkay, Doc. Not dizzy or anything. "

"Do you feel any pain in the back of your neck?"

"Nope"

"Can you move your limbs?"

Ray moves his fingers, toes, then his legs and arms and then his neck. "I can move my dick too, Doc. Wanna see?"

Brad snorts "You have nine fucking lives, Ray." Sounds relieved.

Good. Don't make anyone worries. He's Josh Ray Person. Motormouth extraordinaire. Ooze the charm, Person!

"Aaww…did Daddy Colbert worried about me? Mommy Person is fine, Daddy. So you can stop seeing Mistress Fick because this hot momma doesn't like to share."

"Yup. He's fine."

Shit! That's LT's voice. What about doing some recon before publicly expressing domesticality, Ray?

"Uh…hi, Sir. Nice to meet you. Me love you long time."

Thankfully, the LT grins at him and then leaves after he's assured Ray is okay.

"I'll put you in a collar, okay? Just in case…"

"No need, Doc. 'mfine. Trust me."

And Ray starts to get up.

Doc checks on him for another minute until he's sure that Ray is okay and leaves him while mumbling "lucky motherfucker."

Ray doesn't feel lucky though. Honestly, he feels like a jackass, leaving Easy men behind.

"Walt, you drive!"

"No no no, Brad! I'm fine. Just…you know…near dead experience and shit. I'll drive. I'm fine."

Brad's not buying it.

"No, Ray! You sit on the back. Walt, you drive!" Brad's back to his Iceman mode again.

They stay in the stadium that night and Ray stays away from everyone, although Brad repeatedly tried to talk to him. He drinks the booze they found in the stadium, but it only reminds him to Nixon and his Vat69. He finally laid himself in the bleacher.

He used to think that he will be relieved when he's back to his time. But now, he will do anything to go back with his Easy men. He misses Easy already.

He misses George, Frank and Bill. His last talk with George is played repeatedly in his mind. Did they make it through the war?

He suddenly remembers the ring. He frantically reaches for his dog tag.

And it's there. Christmas presents from George.

And it's almost too hard to bear. His eyes start to blur and he's choking back sobs.

So much for Hang Tough…