Chapter 7:

(London, England, Allies Base. July 7, 1942)

It was a hot summer day in early July. The men in the 182nd bombing squad did not have any assignments for the day, so they got a chance to relax and enjoy themselves...except for the heat. While most men hung out with their friends or chilled in the shade of trees around base, young sergeant Andrew Carter was scavenging around and exploring his surroundings. Being a fan of chemistry and science, he was always curious about the world around him. How did things work? Why did they work? What was out there? Where was it? So on and so on and so on.

His group of friends had been in the middle of a game of football, when he decided to part off on his own and explore the area. He had only been watching the game since the size of the others intimidated him from playing. He had managed to find a small grass opening surrounded by a few trees and looked up and around at the site. The leaves were deep green and matched the grass beneath his military boots. There were barely any clouds up in the blue sky, and the sun was high and awful warm. Several men had put on sunscreen to protect themselves from erythema solare. (1)

As he kept on walking, Carter started to hear what sounded like people talking off in the distance. He turned to his left and stood still for a moment to make sure he had not been hearing things. Sure enough, he heard the same noise again and was now certain that there was a group of people socializing with one another. Curious, he continued on his course of direction to see where these people were and what they were doing.

After about ten minutes of walking, Carter reached the place where the people were and immediately took cover, when he spotted his commanding officer, Lieutenant Dick Walters. All the men under Lieutenant Walters's command had learned to fear the man immensely. He was not forgiving nor kind towards his men. They either treated him like a god or they were severely punished and sometimes even death would be done. Carter had never witnessed any killings done by Walters, but was too afraid to say anything about it. Crossing the line with Walters was something no one wanted to do if they loved their own life. At some points, the men wondered whether the Nazis or Walters terrified them more.

Walters was speaking with one of the enlisted men that he trusted. He had very few men that he considered his friends and treated them decently. Carter, for sure, was definitely not one of those men. In fact, he considered himself the very much opposite of Walters's friends.

Usually, Carter was not the one to eavesdrop on people or what they did during their personal time. Something this time, though, seemed a little bit fishy. Why would Walters be discussing something with one of his men far off from the base and want no one else around to hear it? At first he thought it was just for some privacy and to make sure no one would start telling others. Knowing Walters, though, him by himself and one other person usually did not mean anything good for anybody. Carter decided he would listen in for a little bit and then leave to go back and hang out with his friends. He silently leaned over slightly from behind the tree he was hiding behind and made sure that he could not be seen by Walters. After checking that, he opened up his ears and began listening in on the conversation.

"Kill General Howards?" The enlisted man, a corporal, gasped.

"Yes, and once he's out of the way, I have a better chance of becoming general myself once I make it look like Captain Fischer was the one who killed the old geezer." Walters replied snarky.

Carter silently gulped.

Captain Gary Fischer was the leading commanding officer of the entire bombing squadron. Walters always pushed it with the older man and always was infuriated with the fact that he was not the top dog in charge. The lieutenant always made an effort to do as much harm to the enlisted men as possible whenever Fischer left him in charge while he was busy with paperwork or could not come along on a bombing mission in Germany for whatever reason. The captain was in the middle of a meeting with several other captains discussing military tactics and strategies that could advance them in the war.

Carter was a good friend of Fischer's, and never felt in danger around the man. He was tough, solid, and not afraid to speak his mind to Walters, who terrified most of the other men. The ones who did not fear him gave a little attitude sometimes, but for the most part left the lieutenant alone and minded their own business. They knew what the man was capable of and were not stupid enough to cross the enraged man.

Walters would often talk back to Fischer and throw occasional insults about the man, but knew when to lay off with the man. In fact, Fischer seemed to be the only one that could make Walters back off and leave everyone alone for a while. For that, all the men, especially Carter, were grateful for having such a brave commanding officer leading them. If it were not for him, they did not know whether they would have made it as far as they had come. Most of them worried had it not been Fischer, they would all be dead or wishing they were dead after being beaten, abused, and tormented by Walters.

It was funny, though. At first, Walters seemed like a real cool, charismatic guy that everyone would want to be friends with. After spending a few months with him, he turned into everyone's worst nightmare. He was cunning, conniving, dictative, malicious, and twisted. He made Dracula and Adolf Hitler look like choir boys compared to him. Maybe not that extreme, but the men certainly felt it at most points when in Walters's presence. They no longer questioned his commands or orders. They simply just did them.

Carter swallowed his fear of what Walters had just said and continued listening in on the two men.

"Don't you think that's a bit risky, sir? I mean, what if you're caught?" The corporal asked.

Walters snapped his head towards the corporal and glared at him coldly.

"Why? Thinking about telling someone, Corporal?" Walters hissed.

"No, sir! Not at all, sir! I was just concerned is all!" The corporal cried, horrified.

Walters's face softened and nodded.

"If we play our cards right, no one will ever suspect a thing, but that man's gotta go. The longer he's here, the longer I remain a lieutenant." Walters paused in pacing then snapped his eyes back to the corporal's. He looked furious. "You know what I think about being a lieutenant, Corporal?"

The corporal gulped and tried his best from shaking under the look of his commanding officer.

"I'd rather you told me, Lieutenant," he said, trembling.

Walters picked up a pretty thick stick from the ground. He snapped it like a knife slicing butter then chucked it across to the far other side of where they stood. He immediately turned back to the corporal, and his face turned a light shade of pink.

"THAT'S what I think of it!" Walters snarled.

"Absolutely, sir. I think it's terrible the way they degrade you!" The corporal spoke out of fear.

"Which is why I need both Fischer and Howards out of the way in order to succeed in getting to the top."

"But how are you gonna get away with it, sir? Certainly General Howards is very well protected."

"I don't know yet, but if Captain Fischer interferes at any moment for whatever reason," Walters paused and turned back to look at the corporal with a serious look to his face. "Kill him."

Carter silently gasped. Kill Captain Fischer? He could not understand why anyone in their right mind would kill a nice man like Fischer. He always looked out for others, always kept calm and level headed in crises, and was highly intelligent in his field of work and knew what he was doing always. Walters had to be insane if he was so willing to kill off Captain Fischer and General Howards in order to be promoted from Lieutenant to God knows what he hoped for.

"So...what are you going to do now?" The corporal asked wary.

Walters thought to himself for a long while then grabbed something inside his jacket and pulled it out at the corporal. It was a pistol. Seeing Walters pointing it at him made the young corporal gulp. Carter's jaw dropped. He sure hoped what was about to happen was not what he thought was about to happen.

"Sir?" The corporal gasped.

"It's a shame I have to do this," Walters said. "But you know far too much. I can't risk you letting my cover blow."

"I swear, Lieutenant Walters, I won't breathe a single word about this, not one!" The corporal pleaded.

"If only I could trust you in that, but I can't. Therefore, you have to go."

Carter silently started to make a run for it, but not before he heard a gunshot three times. Carter shuddered hearing the gun go off. He knew that the corporal was dead. With Walters, it would have been a surprise had the corporal been spared. Yet at the same time, Carter always expected Walters to be more humane for some reason. He just could not grasp the concept of people being so evil. That, and he did not understand it at all. It made no sense to him as to why people were so evil or why they felt that it was okay to act like that. Maybe he would never know, but all he knew was that he did not approve of it and that he needed to tell Captain Fischer about what was going on right away...before it was too late.

Fischer was making rounds around the base making sure that everyone was doing alright and behaving themselves.

He was about 6'4", a little older than Carter, and very slim. He had confidence in his walk and twinkling green eyes. He was a man of courage, strength, wisdom, and optimism. He had a strong charisma and was always there if one of his men needed him. Most of the time, it regarded Walters and him bothering one of the enlisted men. It amazed most of the men of how Fischer was so calm and cool handling the hot headed lieutenant. When most, if not all, feared Walters, Fischer found him no competition and always made it clear to the man that the rest of the crew was not to be threatened nor felt like they were in harm's way. That was one of the things people most liked about Fischer. He was not afraid of hardly anything.

He was about to make his second lap, when an out of breath Carter ran up to his side and started tugging on his leather bomber jacket.

The captain turned his head and looked at Carter with deep concern.

"Sergeant Carter, are you alright?" Fischer asked, his eyes gaping.

"I'm alright, Captain...it's just...I…" Carter stopped to catch his breath. After collecting himself, he turned to Fischer and looked at him helplessly. "Can we talk somewhere in private, sir? I don't want the others to hear what I have to tell you."

"Of course, Sergeant. Come with me," Fischer said, friendly.

The two men headed into Fischer's quarters. The young captain gestured to Carter to take a seat on his bed. Once Carter got comfy on the long bed, Fischer sat across from him on the sofa that was in his quarters. He rubbed his hands together then gave the young sergeant his full attention.

"What's going on, kid?" Fischer asked.

Carter was silent for a while. He looked over his shoulders a couple times making sure no one else was around. Finally, he let out a sigh and opened his mouth.

"It's about Lieutenant Walters, sir," Carter said softly.

Fischer closed his eyes and let out a breath of frustration.

"What's he doing now?" Fischer asked irritated. The brash lieutenant made his skin crawl and always seemed to be causing trouble for the enlisted men, which the captain was not thrilled about.

"Captain…" Carter swallowed a knot in his throat. "Lieutenant Walters wants to...he's planning on...he wants to…" Carter again looked around to make sure no one was around before finishing his thought. "Kill General Howards."

"Kill General Howards!" Fischer exclaimed, jumping to his feet.

"Sssssshhhhhhhhhhhh! He'll hear you, sir!" Carter cried.

"He wants to kill the General?!" Fischer whispered frantically.

"That's what I heard him tell Corporal Wyatt before...he shot him."

"He shot Corporal Wyatt? Why?!"

"Walters was afraid that he would rat him out, so he killed him right there."

Fischer ran his fingers through his hair then slapped his cap back on.

"Oh, that man's done it now." Fischer grumbled harshly.

"What are we gonna do, Captain?" Carter asked worried.

"I've gotta tell Colonel Wallace back at headquarters. Sergeant, whatever you do, do not, under any circumstances, repeat this information to anyone else. This stays just between you and me. The less people who know the better."

"What about you, Captain? Lieutenant Walters says he'll kill you too if you try to interfere with his plans."

"I'll be alright, Sergeant. Just worry about yourself, and I'll take care of the rest."

"Yes, sir,"

Fischer nodded.

"Come on, let's go. The sooner we get Colonel Wallace notified, the better."

Carter nodded and followed Fischer out of his quarters closing the door behind them.

It was around 10:30PM, and Carter was heading back to his quarters after a long meeting with the other enlisted men in his squadron about possible tactics to use in upcoming bombing assignments. He was a couple meters from his destination, when someone clamped a hand over Carter's mouth and pulled him inside their quarters. When they finally got inside, Carter turned and finally got a glimpse of who it was. His eyes gaped, when he saw that it was no other than Walters. His eyes were fogged over and looked like he was an immortal being. His humanity had been lost altogether which frightened Carter deeply. The young sergeant swallowed a lump in his throat and tried opening his mouth to speak, but nothing would come out.

"Carter, Carter, Carter," Walters sneered. "Will you ever learn not to mess around with me?"

"What, what, what are you talking about, Lieutenant?" Carter stuttered. He was shaking beneath the lieutenant's stare.

"I heard you talking to Captain Fischer regarding my plans, dummy! I stood by the open window and listened in on you two."

"I, I, I don't know what you mean, Lieutenant."

Walters snapped around and walked over to a coat closet. He opened the door, pulled something out, then closed the door again to reveal him holding Fischer around the neck. The lieutenant grabbed a survival knife out of his pocket and held it close to the captain's neck. Fischer was shaking and fighting back from screaming. His arms and legs were tied together with rope, so escape was out of the question.

Carter stared in horror at what he was seeing. He had to do something. He had to save Fischer, but how?

"Let him go!" Carter cried in fear.

"Sergeant, run! Get help! He's mad, Sergeant!" Fischer exclaimed. The young captain gasped, when he felt Walters bring the knife closer to his neck.

"Leave him alone! I'm the one who told him!" Carter begged.

"I know you're the one who told him, which is why you're gonna watch him die!" Walters snapped.

"Don't kill him, please! We won't tell anybody, not a single person! Swear!"

"I don't believe you!"

"No, it's true! I'll prove it right now, if you let Captain Fischer go!"

Walters thought about it for a minute, or what Carter hoped was him thinking. Honestly, the lieutenant just looked like he was staring off at something and in a completely different world. His eyes were glassy and did not even look human anymore.

Carter swallowed another knot down his throat. He hesitated to speak, but did so after waiting so long for an answer.

"Lieutenant..." Carter asked, worried.

Walters shook his head with an eerie grin on his face.

"Nope, he's gotta go. He'd become a problem sooner or later anyways. Might as well rid off of him now, huh?"

"Please, Lieutenant! Don't hurt Captain Fischer, please! Let him go!" Carter begged. His eyes were brimmed with water.

"Sergeant, run! Forget about me!" Fischer yelled.

"I'm not gonna let you die, Captain!" Carter replied.

"Oh, you're not gonna let anything happen, or you'll be next on the list, get it?!" Walter warned.

Carter gulped and nodded.

"Yes, sir," he shuddered.

Walters snapped his head back to Fischer and snarled at him.

"Now about you," Walters hissed.

"Please, let Sergeant Carter go! He's just a kid!" Fischer pleaded.

"You leave Rat to me! You won't be here to help him much longer anyways!" Walters barked.

Carter closed his eyes shut and lifted his shoulders up to make himself appear small. He kept hoping it would protect him or Fischer from any oncoming harm. Sadly, he knew there was nothing left to be done for Fischer. If he left, he'd be killed along with Fischer. If he stayed, Fischer still died. There was no third option, and Carter had to sadly accept that fate.

Walters took the knife away from Fischer's neck and stabbed the captain in the back to begin his brutal murder.

Carter the whole time flinched, shuddered, and fought back screams every time he heard Fischer cry out in pain. Every time he heard the knife stabbing another part of the brave captain's body. Eventually the screaming turned into gasps, then into whispers crying out for Colonel Wallace, then it was completely silent. The young sergeant was terrified of opening his eyes, but had to eventually. He saw what was in front of him and sucked in a huge breath of air. His eyes almost left his head.

There on the ground was their commanding officer, his friend, blood was splattered everywhere on Fischer, the floor, the nearby furniture, and on the knife that Walters held in his bloody hands.

Carter was frozen in his spot. As much as he wanted to look away, he could not. His body refused to. He was in complete shock of what had just happened. He had just witnessed a commanding officer commit the crime of fragging. One of the most, if not the most, highest level of crimes possible to commit in the military. He looked up at Walters and saw the man with a blank expression on his face, then it became angry. The lieutenant marched his way to Carter and looked the frightened man straight in the eye.

"You repeat this to anyone, and I mean anyone, I'll have you watch while I slowly kill another person you care about! Do I make myself clear?!" Walters barked.

Carter nodded while shaking.

"Yes, Lieu...tenant Walters," Carter said inaudibly.

Walters kept his stare on Carter a little longer, then turned sharp on his boot and went into another room to clean off his knife and hands.

Poor Carter fell to the ground and again looked at what was once his lively, charismatic, courageous friend and top commanding officer now a lifeless, bloody corpse. He had to tell someone, but Walters's threat had been made perfectly clear, and Carter was not willing to lose a loved one because he was too afraid and croaked under fear. What he had witnessed and seen that night was too horrendous to come clean. Despite his commanding officer and friend being killed before his eyes, the idea of speaking up scared the living daylights out of him. No, it had to remain a secret. From that moment on, Carter promised to himself that by under any means, he would never tell another soul what he saw that night. The truth regarding Fischer's murder would be just between him and Walters. He had to protect his loved ones, and that he would just do.

(1) Erythema solare - sun burn