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As usual, this chapter is un-beta-ed and since English is not my first language, if you have any ideas or see any mistakes, please poke. I'll really appreciate it.
It's not like I never kiss a girl before. But this one…this one is different.
Have you ever met a girl…no…a woman and your brain screaming 'that girl is gonna be my wife' since day one? And you will do literally anything to get her, even though you realize that she's way out of your league? And when you finally allowed to kiss said woman…
"Hey, George! GEORGE! Where the fuck did your head go?"
I felt tapping in my helmet. And then the bittering cold. And then ambient noise of paratroopers gossiping and trucks rumbling filtered in.
Huh?
What? Where?
Oh right…I'm in the truck…another road trip to where-the fuck-ever.
"Did you and Mommy have a fight again?" Frank asked. I must be done something very bad in previous live when this 27 year old midget (and already a father, for fuck's sake) decided to adopt Becca and me as his parents.
"What? No! Why?" Apparently my brain function has not fully recovered yet after that kiss.
"So it's must be something good then…Come on…spill!" Bill smirked. Christ! Even on the brink of war, Bill's gossiping habit didn't faltered.
"No!" I said firmly. Some memories were meant to keep for ourselves.
Joe fucking Liebgott shouted from the far end of the truck "You kissed her, didn't ya?" which successfully rendered the entire truck occupants silent.
Holy Mother of God and Sweet Baby Jesus on a cradle! Please give me strength to refrain myself from kick out this Jew's lily-white-ass from this moving truck.
"Mind your fucking bladder before you're pissing all over yourself!" was the only thing I manage to say. Which apparently only confirm Joe's guess.
Bill guffawed and slapped my back "Good for you, George! I almost thought you don't have the balls to kiss her. Awww…both of you will be the sweetest couple ever. Even looking at you two will give me cavities."
Oh, just kill me now.
"Okay…One: Kissing doesn't requires balls. It required mutually-willing-participants' lips. Emphasis on 'mutually-willing-participants'. Two: At least cavities are not contagious. Unlike you, Gonorrhea, passing diseases onto unsuspecting females. Emphasis on 'passing diseases' and 'unsuspecting females'. And Three: Congratulation on you promotion to Syphilis or Chlamydia or what-the-fuck-ever. I bet you'll be pissing needles anytime soon."
"Easy is officially and colossally fucked up" would be the perfect tagline if someone in Hollywood wanted to make a movie about current situation in Bastogne.
As soon as we made the tail gate jump, my poor little maggot (a.k.a Frank) said "Holy shit! We have to fight in this condition? How the fuck I can pull my trigger if my fingers are frozen."
"Put your fingers on your armpit. It's the warmest." I said.
"Why I should trust your advice? It never did me any good."
I rolled my eyes. "Because you can't put your finger in your crotch. That will be the final proof of your perversion tendency."
"Fuck you! And stop talking educated, will ya!"
According to 'Perconte Comma Frank: Language of', "Fuck you" means "I Love you", so I let it pass. But about that "talk educated" thing...Perhaps that kiss transferred some of Becca's intelligence to me? Well, that's good. More reason to kiss her then.
Stop grinning like a pervert!
Stop fucking grinning like a pervert!
Ah shit!
Minutes later, my grin evaporated quickly and I decided that "War is hell" was the most appropriate tagline. Hundreds of American soldiers in various states, or what's left of it, were retreating from the forest. The smell, the sight, the soldiers' voices. It's like watching a real-live horror movie. The retreating soldiers keep telling us to turn around. But not one Easy man gives a fuck to hear that. Bill started to grab any ammo from the retreating soldiers, followed by the rest of us. Anything we can scrounge.
I saw Colonel Sink talked to Captain Winters and Nixon. Becca stood beside the Colonel, holding a briefcase. She wore her old coat, the one she wore for our 'failed date', and a scarf. Like the rest of us, she's not wearing any winter clothing. But at least she will be inside Regimental HQ not in the open like me. She met my eyes and smiled minutely. I nodded. I felt a strange pang in my chest when I think that there's a possibility this will be the last time I saw her.
Bill put his hand in my shoulder "She'll be alright, George. She'll be in the city with the Colonel, right?"
"Yeah. I just got this bad feeling, Bill. I can't explain it. Not just about her. But for all of us."
Bill lowering his voice into a whisper "Don't let the babies hear you. Winters cannot be with us even though I bet my ass he will do anything to fight alongside us again. Easy now depends on us. You know what to do. Do your magic. We're paratroopers. We're supposed to be in the worst condition there is."
I saw Becca for one last time before she climbed back to the Colonel's jeep and watched them drive back to the city. I shoulder my rifle and adjusting my radio on my back then start to walk to the forest.
Fear is poison. It's contagious. Ignore the fear. Don't think. Stop and think will kill you and people around you.
My brothers need me and I will do anything not to let them down. We will not fall back. We have beaten these fuckers twice before in Normandy and Holland, and we will again. Currahee, Baby!
145 men and officers of Easy Company enter the forest of Ardennes that night. Nobody know how many men will get out.
The activities in in the front line were always the same. Freezing, fight the Krauts, freezing, holding the line as best as our ass can, freezing your fucking ass, digging foxholes in a freezing soil, freezing, shelled to bits by the Krauts, fucking freezing again, got lost in the patrol with Peacock, freezing, eat Joe Domingo's rancid ass beans while singing praise of Dike's various level of stupidity, freezing our nuts, losing a brother, freezing, try not to lose your mind, and back to fucking freezing again. Gossips said that it was Belgium's coldest winter in thirty years. How's the fuck that for luck?!
The "try not to lose your mind" part was the most difficult to handle. Especially if you risk your life in the hand of shit-brained and constantly-MIA CO like Dike. We have to taking care our own ass.
There's no Toccoa men left in the Officer level. The remaining enlisted Toccoa men were struggling to filter the retardation that come from our CO and dumbass junior officers. Every time I saw some sane-enough Lieutenants and NCOs attend briefing with Dike, I could tell, judging from their faces, that the response to bullshits that spewed from Dike's mouth would be something along the lines of "eh?" (Lipton's), "is this shithead for real?" (Buck's), "un-fucking-believable" (Foley's) and "can I shoot your head and fed your body parts to the Krauts?" (Bill's).
And then there were the babies. The replacement kids. Their hurry-up training didn't forge them hard enough (mentally and physically) to face near-constant pressures from the Krauts.
The Army seriously had to raise our paygrade for make us dealing with these shits.
I shared foxhole with Frank and this midget was starting his ritual after-chow-tooth-brushing when Captain Winters and Nixon come to our foxhole. Winters, albeit he has to babysit the whole Battalion, refuse to stay at Battalion HQ in the city, and stay in the front line with the boys, take part in freezing our sorry asses together. Nixon always on his side, as a good best friend should be, hooking up regimental office and the front line.
"Good evening, gents. How's it going?" Winters asked.
"Snafu, Sir." I answered without thinking.
"Snafu?" Winters raised his eyebrows.
Oh, shit. I forgot. There's no way in hell our esteemed Captain know abbreviation that contains profanity.
"That's 'Situation Normal: All Fucked Up', Dick. Are you living in a cave or something? The Army even made that cartoon…Private Snafu." Nixon explained.
The Captain scratched his nose "Sorry, Nix. Never watched it."
"Yeah, well. That cartoon was made to help illiterate enlisted men understand Army regulation anyway. I just watched it for entertainment. I love it when the stupid private blown up to pieces at the end because of his own stupidity. I used to imagine that was Sobel. Good times." Nixon shrugged innocently.
The Captain looked at his best friend incredulously. He just shook his head and said directly to me and Frank "Try to make some shut-eye while you can, okay? And George… thank you for your…um…entertaining impersonation at chow. That's very spot on."
I grinned like a mad man "Thank you, Sir. Appreciate that. I'll ask Skip to contribute for my next skit. I'm planning to impersonate Hitler's minions. You know…Himler, hinkle, frankle, wiener or some shi…sorry…something like that. And Skip can make the most hideous German accent. It'll be epic, Sir."
The Captain's smile was a hybrid of fatherly and angelic smile "Good. The boys need that. Thank you, George. Oh and one more thing. Colonel Sink came to CP this morning, accompanying Gen. McAuliffe. And…um…he let us know that a certain Miss Jones was doing a great job in Regimental HQ and sometimes helping administration of casualties in Regimental Aid Station in her spare time. She's sort of working nonstop and the Colonel's worried. Maybe her beloved friend…I mean…friends…can talk sense to her to take a break before she exhausted herself."
Winters' face was calm but his eyes glint that only can be interpreted as amused, if not teasing. Nixon tried to hide his grin by scratching his nose.
I was most certainly not blushing. Suddenly, I have this urge to dig my foxhole deeper and buried myself in it. Frank was not helping by nudging me with his elbow and winking like a spastic maggot he was. Fucker.
"I'll do my best, Sir. I'll send letter through Doc Roe when he's going to the city for medical supply."
"Oh I can deliver it now." Nixon said with too much eagerness "I have to go to the Regimental HQ anyway. Delivering recon report."
Like fuck. "Okay, Sir. Would you mind take a minute?"
"Oh…take your time, George." Nixon winked unsubtly, but it's still classier than Frank's wink. He even gave me paper and pen. Becca was right. Easy Company was the worst band of cupids ever; even the Officers. But if that'll give them some kind of entertainment, so be it. I'll just make myself being used to be humiliated in front of people. I definitely will ask for more pay rise!
I made the letter short.
Princess, I'm looking forward to see your Dad's monkey back home. So you'd better take care of yourself. That means you have to eat, sleep, and shit regularly.
George.
"That's all? You are not romantic, aren't you?" Nixon shamelessly read my letter and didn't hide his disappointment. And he protested he's not the Mommy?! Winters coughed to hide his embarrassment of his friend's antics.
"Come on, Nix. No need to embarrass the kid further." And he had to literally drag Nixon to the jeep.
Becca's reply letter came through Doc Roe several days later after he took Sisk to the city for being hit. Her letter was also short.
Frog, please be assured that I will took my rituals regularly as per your advice. I also look forward to take you to see my Dad's monkey. I hope we can play chess anytime soon. I miss to beat your sorry ass again.
Becca.
That's my girl. Cheeky as always.
At least reading her letter can lessen a little my current dreadful feeling, courtesy of following Peacock for recon patrol/ kraut-hunting.
"Peacock's leading right?" I asked Hoobler; praying somehow the universe took pity on me and replaced Peacock with someone with more competence.
Hoobler answered a short "Right." I can tell he's not happy himself.
I mumbled "Great. That asshole couldn't find a snowball in a blizzard."
One replacement kid, Julian – Babe's virgin (Holy Marry! – pun fucking intended) friend, volunteered to be the lead scout. One thing to remember when you're a soldier was never EVER volunteering for anything. Thank God, Martin gave his most bitchy face (which was his default face, honestly) and ordered the kid to back in the line.
Doc wanted to join us but Martin told him to "stay back and keep your ass out of trouble" because this was "a combat patrol". I was not 100% agree with Martin this time. Every time we didn't have Roe on our side, something horribly wrong would happen. I'm not superstitious, but that's the fact. It's like Doc was our guardian angel, literally and figuratively. Doc didn't say anything. He just nod and squatted with his back on the tree. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes never leave our back. I can feel his gaze. He's not happy with this arrangement either.
All hell broke loose when Julian somehow walked in the front of the line and the Krauts hit him right in the neck. Martin and Babe desperately tried to reach him but fucking Krauts keep shooting at us. Bull and Christenson provided suppressing fire, but that just won't do. The Krauts still delivered heavy fire. Babe's desperately made several attempts to reach Julian, but all was failed.
I scrambled my radio and made contact to CP "One man down. Easy CP. Easy CP. I have one man down!" I spun around to look for Peacock but he's nowhere in sight. Fuck! Lieutenant McUseless choose the worst time to disappear. Foley took the charge and order us to pull back. Martin has to pull Babe. Jesus! I can't imagine how Babe's feeling right now; leaving a dying friend behind.
One replacement kid got shot in front of me. Hobbler and I grabbed both his arms and drag him. Luckily we're already near the place where we left Doc to wait for us. Hoobler shouted "Doc! Doc!"
Doc already on his feet and rushed towards us. I made a contact with my radio "Easy CP. Easy CP. Lightning, over. I need an A-jeep at the OP."
The Krauts were still shooting at us. One man shouted "Eyes sharp! Eyes sharp!" It's chaos.
I helped Doc tending the kid. I said to him "Okay, I got you a jeep, Doc!" and then to the kid "Hang on, kiddo…we'll get you out." The kid nodded weakly. Jesus! I even didn't know what's his name.
Nixon come and ordered us to fall back. Babe's pleading to go back to save Julian. But both Martin and Nixon said no. It's too dangerous. Foley asked for Peacock. Nixon answered that Peacock was back at the CP. What. The actual. Fuck?! That idiot left us to save his own ass?!
Doc still patched up the kid with bandages to stop the bleeding. Nixon shouted to us "Fall back! Get him outta here!"
I asked "You okay, Doc?"
He's not answered, still focus to the kid. His hands moved fast and methodically, as if he moved without thinking.
"We gotta go back, Doc." I urged. "Doc, we gotta move now, Doc! Come on! Let's go!" Doc gave morphine to the kid. I shouted now "Doc, now! Let's go!" Finally Doc stood up and lifted the kid on the armpit. I hold the kid's leg and together we carried him to CP.
That night, Winters join us at chow to give us support. Babe's so dejected, he just sat on the log and hugging his legs. I never saw him like this. Babe was our Ginger-Sunshine-Happy Puppy-Rainbow Shitting-Jitterbugging-Baby. Right now, it looked like he's drained and he got no colors left on him. It's heartbreaking to see a naïve kid can be changed into a hollow man in a matter of just few hours.
NO! I will not allow this. There's no way the Kraut can change my men into hollowed dead men walking!
I'm the company clown, for fuck's sake.
Jolly Old Saint Luz to the rescue!
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