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The squad and mortar men have made the impossible possible. But how are they ever going to get out of there? Join Saunders and his men and find out. Note there's a passing reference to Hog Wild. Thanks for reading, and be sure to leave your thoughts and comments.
HURRY UP…AND WAIT
Part 3
CHAPTER 28
"Gunner's down!" Stocker screamed, kneeling next to the prone soldier.
Doc scrambled to his feet and ran to kneel next to the two mortar men. More rifle fire filled the air as the squad returned fire. Another mortar round soared over their heads, landing halfway down the hill behind them. The ground trembled, and more smoke enveloped them. Kirby was knocked off his feet, but quickly scrambled back up.
"We've gotta get outa here!" Saunders yelled. "Doc, is he alive?"
The medic looked up. "For now. But he won't be walking out of here."
Crawling toward his men, the sergeant yelled over the continuous rifle fire. "We can't carry him. Caje, Brock…help Stocker get Gunner on the cart. Then get him off this hill."
"What about the mortar?" Brockmeyer asked.
"It's bolted down. Leave it," Saunders replied. "Move!"
The two soldiers crawled over to the fallen mortar man, and together with Stocker they lifted Gunner onto the cart.
As they curled him around the base of the mortar, Gunner groaned and opened his eyes. "Stocker?"
"Right here, Buddy," Stocker answered.
He took Gunner's arm and wrapped it around the mortar. "Hold on, Gunner. You're going for a ride."
As Caje and Brockmeyer began to pull the cart down the trail, the other men continued to give cover fire.
Then Saunders yelled, "Stay with him, Doc. Kirby, take the point. At the bottom, go left on the road. Keep moving."
Waiting until all of his men had gone over the crest of the hill, Saunders finally turned back to look down at the Germans, spread out along the road. Although it was now almost dark, he could clearly see in the flickering light of the fires. The mortar had destroyed most of their vehicles, and soldiers were starting to run toward the hill.
Slipping his Thompson over his shoulder, he reached into his field jacket, pulling out the two grenades. Pulling both pins, he carefully held the safety lever on both. He kept low, waiting for a lull in the rifle fire, and for the soldiers to come closer.
When there seemed to be a brief pause in the firing, the sergeant instantly stood up and threw the first grenade, quickly followed by the second. He threw as far as he could, with the explosions coming seconds apart.
Without waiting to check the results, he turned and took off down the hill after his men. Hopefully that'd slow them down, he thought as he ran. Suddenly, an explosion behind him at the crest of the hill blew apart the spot where they'd just been. The kraut mortar had found its mark. Fortunately, the patrol was no longer there.
But Saunders hadn't gone quite far enough. The blast threw him forward, and he tumbled down the hill. Rolling and bouncing, the sergeant finally slid to a halt against a bush.
CHAPTER 29
Saunders found himself face down in the dirt and brush. His head was pounding, his ears ringing, and for a moment he couldn't remember what happened. But it suddenly all came flooding back. The explosion…krauts…mortar…convoy.
Krauts. He struggled to his feet. They had to get out of there. He shook his head a few times to try to clear the ringing in his ears. His head felt like it had exploded along with the mortar. He touched his head, half expecting some of it to be gone. It was all there, but every bone and muscle in his body seemed to be aching.
He heard a muffled, "Sarge?" and looked around to see who it was. His eyes gradually focused.
Littlejohn.
"Sarge?" the big man repeated. "You ok?"
Saunders could barely hear him, but it was becoming a little clearer. He ran a hand through his hair and looked around.
Littlejohn held out his Thompson. The sergeant took it wordlessly and checked it over. He moved unsteadily through the brush back toward the trail.
Littlejohn watched his sergeant carefully as the two made their way down off the hill. Reaching the bottom, Saunders saw the rest of the patrol waiting for him. Doc was using the time to check on Gunner's condition.
"Keep moving!" Saunders shouted, stumbling slightly as he tried to clear his head.
As the others began to move out, Nelson held back, waiting for their sergeant to catch up.
"This came down the hill," Billy said, holding out Saunders' camo helmet.
Saunders took it and gingerly slipped it on his still pounding head. Picking up his pace, he came even with the medic and the cart.
"How is he, Doc?"
"I need to get that bleeding stopped," Doc replied anxiously.
"We can't stop now," Saunders answered, looking over at the wounded soldier. "The krauts are coming up the hill. They're right on our tail."
Putting his hand lightly on Gunner's shoulder, the sergeant walked alongside the cart.
"Hang in there, Gunner. We gotta keep moving."
Gunner nodded and gripped the base of the mortar. "Keep going."
Saunders patted Gunner gently and jogged forward to take the point.
"Kirby, drop back and cover our rear."
With a silent nod, the BAR man held up, waiting for everyone to pass.
CHAPTER 30
The fiery glow from their efforts helped to light their way in the darkness as they left the hill and valley behind. But soon the night enveloped them once again. Saunders cursed the darkness that slowed them down, yet he knew it would also slow whoever was chasing them. The Germans would be moving cautiously in the dark.
And he certainly knew someone was behind them. He could hear occasional shouts of commands coming through the trees in the stillness of the night. Far enough away to give them some breathing room, but too close for comfort.
"Sarge?" Stocker called out softly, jogging up to the front.
"I make them about two-fifty…maybe three hundred yards back," he said when he'd caught up to the sergeant. "Moving slow."
"That's what I figure," Saunders replied nervously. "Too close."
"We managed to save two rounds before we left," Stocker explained. "What say we stop a minute and let me drop them on their heads? Lucky if I hit anyone, but it'd sure stop 'em in their tracks for a while. Make 'em think twice about keeping following us."
They continued moving as Saunders thought about the idea. Stopping now gave the krauts the advantage and put them all in a lot of danger. But continuing on the way they were going, he knew the krauts would eventually catch them.
"How much time do you need?" he finally asked. "The krauts are only getting closer."
"Just have to get Gunner off," Stocker replied. "Line up the four deuce. Littlejohn can load. I'll lay one right where I think they are, and one closer to us. Just in case."
It didn't take long for Saunders to be convinced. They couldn't move any faster with the cart, mortar and a wounded soldier. They somehow needed to stop or slow the krauts down. Give him a chance to think…some breathing room. At the very least it would be a shot across the krauts' bow.
"Alright," the sergeant finally agreed. "Do it. But make it quick."
CHAPTER 31
"Hold up," Saunders said softly as he and Stocker ran back to the others.
"Brock, Billy…help get Gunner off the cart. Hurry it up. Doc, now's your chance to check on Gunner."
"We're not leaving him, are we?" Doc asked in alarm.
"No," the sergeant replied, and began spitting out orders. "We're gonna try to slow the krauts down. Littlejohn…help Stocker. Caje…move up and watch ahead for any surprises. Kirby…move back aways and keep watching our rear. Billy, Brock…get Gunner back on the cart as soon as Stocker is done."
The entire patrol was a flurry of silent activity as Stocker maneuvered the cart on the road. Doc knelt next to the wounded soldier and opened his med kit. Kirby dropped back forty yards.
As the men settled Gunner on the road, he opened his eyes.
"Stocker?" he called out anxiously.
Kneeling next to his friend, Stocker put a reassuring hand on the man's shoulder.
"Don't worry, Gunner. I'm just gonna drop a couple rounds on those krauts back there to keep 'em on their toes. Soon as I'm done we'll get you to a doc."
Gunner nodded and closed his eyes as Stocker stood up.
"Grab those two rounds, Littlejohn," Stocker said as he moved the cart one last time. "You remember how to load?"
Littlejohn nodded as he picked up the first round. "Yeah. Wait for you to say when, then I drop one in with the big end down, pointy end up. I duck back out of the way and cover my ears."
Stocker pulled out his lighter. That 'get out of the way' part is really important."
He held up his lighter in the dark. "Gonna need a little light for the final adjustment."
"Go ahead," Saunders replied nervously, watching to be sure everyone was a safe distance from the mortar. The light would make Stocker an instant target.
"Hurry up."
The mortar man flicked open his lighter, and a flame flared and danced briefly in the slight breeze. Well aware that the flame painted a target on his chest, he worked quickly, changing the elevation.
"Get ready, Littlejohn," he called out as he worked.
"Ready," the big soldier answered, moving closer and holding up the first round.
"Load!" came the command.
In the faint flickering glow of the lighter, Littlejohn dropped the round down the tube. Just as both men ducked back, the explosion sent the round hurtling toward the Germans behind them. Farther down the road in the darkness, the BAR man instinctively ducked and covered his head.
Wasting no time, Stocker said, "Get ready with the second round."
The first round exploded in the distance, momentarily lighting up the sky. He quickly adjusted the elevation once again.
"Load!" he shouted.
The second went down the tube, exploded out and once again landed in the distance, this time closer.
Not waiting to check for results, Saunders immediately shouted, "Get Gunner back on the cart. Move!"
CHAPTER 32
As Saunders waited nervously for Stocker to complete his task of slowing down the krauts, his mind was racing. And an idea was forming in his head. By the time the men were loading Gunner back onto the cart, Saunders knew what they were going to do.
Those rounds would help, but they probably wouldn't stop the krauts. Odds were pretty slim that Stocker scored a direct hit. Eventually they'd catch up if he and his men stayed on the road. But traveling through the trees and fields wasn't an option with the heavy cart and wounded soldier.
Littlejohn and Billy were once again pulling the cart, moving as fast as they could on the dark road. Saunders was back on point, peering left and right into the darkness as they moved. He was growing nervous again as they passed through a section of dense, black forest.
Maybe his plan wouldn't work. And then…he thought he saw it.
"Hold up," he called out as he ran off the road and into the woods.
An opening. One big enough to fit the cart, mortar and Gunner into.
"Bring the cart in here," he called quietly to his men.
"Kirby!" he said a little louder. "C'mere."
As the BAR moved up and the others helped maneuver the cart through the low brush, Saunders looked around.
"Caje, give me your bayonet," he said, holding out his hand. "And your grenades."
Taking the knife from the Cajun, the sergeant added, "Get the cart as far into the trees as you can. The rest of you find a spot and get down. As flat
as you can get and settle in. We may be here a while. Or we might be out of here in a hurry. No one moves until I say so. No one."
Saunders took the two grenades and shoved them into his field jacket pockets. He watched as his men quickly disappeared into the dark underbrush. As he expected, Doc sat down right next to the cart, placing a reassuring hand on Gunner's arm.
Satisfied, the sergeant began to look around. He could still faintly make out the cart with the mortar mounted on it, even in the dark. It could just be that it was because he knew it was there. But he wasn't about to take any chances. He needed to make them completely disappear as well.
Finding what he wanted, he began working on cutting a large pine branch free. Pine sap stuck to his fingers as he worked. When it was almost free, he snapped it off.
Dragging it over to the cart, Saunders stood it upright, and braced it against the mortar. It'd worked before for them. Hopefully it'd work again. Stepping back, he checked it out. The mortar was 'gone'. So far it was working.
"Caje?"
"Here," came from the nearby brush.
Saunders held out the bayonet, and it disappeared into the darkness. Checking once more to be sure everyone and everything was well hidden, the sergeant moved thirty yards farther down the road to find his own spot alongside the road. The grass was tall and thick. Lying flat, he placed his Thompson next to his thigh, and pulled out both grenades. With one in each hand, he settled in.
Hopefully, it works, he thought. Only one way to find out.
He waited.
CHAPTER 33
Time dragged as the soldiers lay in wait. Saunders' mind was running through different scenarios. What if Stocker had been on the money and got enough of them with the mortar to make them retreat? What if they were all dead? What if they were waiting too, just around the last bend? Just waiting for them to make the first move. Too many if's. He had to make a decision. They couldn't stay there forever. Gunner needed medical attention.
It felt like an eternity until the decision was finally taken out of the sergeant's hands. There were sounds of stones being kicked on the road. At first, he thought it might be an animal…deer maybe. But then he heard more movement. And a cough.
Krauts. Lots of them. The mortar may have slowed them down…made them more cautious…but it hadn't stopped them. Saunders felt an almost overwhelming need to see how many Germans they were dealing with. But he resisted the temptation. The slightest movements could give away their position. He remained motionless, barely breathing.
The crunching of boots on the dirt road seemed to go on forever. He could tell they were spread out and moving slowly. Definitely more cautious after those two mortar rounds were dropped in their midst. They had no idea if more might follow.
None of Saunders' men moved or barely breathed. To move was to die. Slowly the sounds began to fade as the Germans continued past them. And still Saunders waited.
Finally, lifting his head, he called out softly, "Everyone stay put. Don't move!"
Standing up, he grabbed his Thompson and made his way past his men and out of the brush, heading down the road after the Germans. About fifty yards from his men, he stopped and slipped behind a nearby tree.
Leaning against the thick trunk, he listened…and waited.
His mind was running full tilt, playing out different scenarios in his head. Dropping grenades on them now would probably lead to a firefight that he and his men might not be able to win. They were moving so spread out, he doubted that he'd get them all with just two grenades.
They'd have to return soon to help out at the now burning and severely damaged convoy. If their leader was smart, he'd be gathering who and what they could and retreating before another possible assault. The remains of the convoy were just too vulnerable where they were. The soldiers hunting for them would know all this too. They would definitely be back.
He'd wait.
CHAPTER 34
When Saunders was beginning to be lulled by the cool night air, the chirping of crickets and other sounds of the evening, he heard a sound that didn't fit in. Crunching of stone on the road.
They were coming back.
And from the sounds of it, they were moving quickly. He wouldn't have time to run back to warn his men and hide himself. He slid the Thompson over his shoulder and reached into his field jacket pockets, wrapping his fingers around the two grenades. He could only hope his men were obeying his order as he tucked himself farther behind the tree and melted into the blackness.
It wasn't long before shapes appeared and began moving past him. Saunders couldn't get an exact count in the dark, but from the sounds and the moving shadows, he figured there had to be a dozen or more soldiers. Just when the last soldier had passed the sergeant's position, one of the men called out.
"Feldwebel!"
Saunders' heart instantly began to pound. Had the soldier seen him? His grip tightened on the grenades as his whole body tensed. His nerves were screaming for him to pull the pins. But his soldier's instinct was telling him to wait. The Germans were much too close to both him and his men. He let go of one of the grenades and reached behind him for the Thompson.
Frozen in place…he waited.
The group of soldiers came to an abrupt halt halfway between Saunders and the place where his men were hidden. The soldier who'd called out moved up to the front and began talking to another…the one who appeared to be in charge. Saunders could just make out their outlines in the dark.
There were no shouts of alarm. Just quiet discussion. The sergeant breathed a silent sigh of relief. He and his men hadn't been discovered. Yet.
He waited impatiently, wondering what the men were discussing that was so urgent that they had to stop. He mentally willed them to keep going. He was worried about Gunner. He was certainly worried about the soldier's condition. But he was also concerned that the wounded man would cry out in pain or delirium.
The sergeant's grip tightened on his Thompson as he ever so slowly slipped it off his shoulder. But he kept one hand wrapped around the grenade in his jacket. Just in case.
"Lass uns gehen! Schnell!"
The leader calling out to his men so suddenly caused Saunders to flinch. He could feel his heart rate jump. But when the Germans took off at a run, the sergeant realized their leader was just telling them to move out. They couldn't leave fast enough for him. The enemy encounters were too close lately.
As the unnerving sounds of the departing Germans faded into the night…Saunders waited.
CHAPTER 35
Finally satisfied, Saunders let go of the grenade and wiped his sweating hand on his thigh. He stepped out onto the road and ran back to his waiting men.
"Let's move!" he called out softly as he pulled the branch off of the cart and mortar. "Get this back on the road."
While the men scrambled to maneuver the cart out of the trees and brush, Saunders looked from the wounded soldier to his medic.
"How is he, Doc?"
The medic followed the cart closely. "Hard to tell in the dark, but I think I've got the bleeding stopped. Sure wish I could see it to be sure."
"No light," Saunders insisted. "We don't know if those krauts'll change their minds and turn around. We've still got a long way to go. Think he'll make it?"
"I don't know," Doc admitted. "I'll give him some morphine before we go. That'll help with the pain anyway. Make him a little more comfortable."
He opened his med kit.
"Go ahead," the sergeant replied. "Let me know when you're done."
When the cart was freed from the brush and back on the road, the medic began to take care of his patient.
"Kirby?" Saunders said, looking around. Almost instantly the BAR man was standing next to him.
"Head back that way and watch in case those krauts change their minds."
"You want me out on the other end of the road?" Caje asked.
When his sergeant nodded, the Cajun replied, "That sure was close. Hope we don't run into any more patrols."
Saunders silently agreed as he watched the soldiers disappear into the darkness down both ends of the road.
"Brockmeyer?" he said softly, once again searching the darkness around him.
"Yeah, Sarge?" came the reply from behind him.
The sergeant turned. "You hear what those krauts were saying?"
"Sure did," the soldier answered. "One soldier stopped their sergeant, wanting to know why they were turning back and not looking for us anymore. The sergeant said we had to be long gone. We must've had some kind of vehicle since we used a mortar on them, but we didn't leave it
up on the hill. Had to've taken it with us. But he said no one can break down a mortar that fast and run with it for long."
Saunders could practically see the grin on Brockmeyer's face. The soldier added, "He said the convoy needed them more."
The sergeant turned to his medic. "Doc? You done? We need to get moving."
Doc closed his med kit and stood up. "He should be ok if we don't jostle him too much."
"Pretty soon we'll be back to pavement," Saunders replied.
"Kirby?" he called out into the darkness.
"Yo," came the reply.
"We're heading out," Saunders said. "Don't lose sight of us."
"Got it," the BAR man answered, moving in closer.
"Billy and I'll pull the cart, Sarge," Littlejohn offered as the two soldiers picked up the t-bar handle.
Saunders took one last look around. "Let's get out of here."
CHAPTER 36
Their way back was relatively uneventful, yet no less stressful. Saunders' fear that they'd run into the first kraut patrol that they'd encountered on the way in was unfounded. The patrolling Germans never materialized. They'd missed them. The sergeant was relieved that they didn't have to duck and hide any more.
Not that there weren't tense moments. More than once they were surprised by wildlife, either foraging or being abruptly awakened from slumber. A startled stag had suddenly bounded in front of them, close enough that they could hear his huffing breaths. Saunders reflexively came within a hair's breadth of shooting him. He'd only hesitated because he was afraid that he might shoot Caje, ahead on point.
Once, rounding a bend, Saunders came face to face with a wild boar that had just stepped onto the road. The sergeant stood frozen and quiet, not wanting to give the boar any provocation to charge.
As the other men caught up to him in the dark, he whispered, "Stay where you are! Quiet!"
Everyone froze as the feral hog decided if they were a threat. It's rank smell settled around the soldiers as they waited. When Kirby caught up to the others, he stopped short.
"Whoa, Sarge! You smell that?"
"Quiet!" Saunders replied tensely, never taking his eyes off of the boar. "He's right here."
It seemed an eternity until finally the boar decided not to challenge them. He snorted a few times, and quickly crossed the road, disappearing into the woods.
Tensions eased, but Saunders remained wary as he continued on, with the others following.
"Really bad smelling, ain't he?" Nelson said, scrunching his nose.
"Mean son of a gun, too," Kirby replied.
Looking over to where the boar had slipped into the woods, he shuddered.
"Sure glad he didn't have his ladies with him. Ain't no reasoning with a jealous pig."
"Almost there," Saunders called out softly. "Keep it down. Kirby, drop back again."
The soldiers continued in silence until the crossroads appeared up ahead. Caje was waiting for them as they approached.
"I'll take it from here, Caje," the sergeant said.
He could feel the tension between his shoulder blades finally beginning to ease as he took the point and turned right toward their billet. Not much farther.
Even though they all continued in silence, Saunders could feel the tension of his men easing as one by one they realized how close they were to their unit.
And then from the darkness ahead came, "Halt!"
The soldiers stopped.
"Tortoise!"
CHAPTER 37
"Hare!" Saunders shouted in return.
"Advance!" came the reply, and the sergeant continued toward their front lines.
The weary soldiers passed wordlessly through the front line of men, oblivious to the stares. Sensing the mood of the patrol, none of the soldiers on the line tried to speak to them.
As they neared their billet, Saunders turned. "Littlejohn, help Doc get Gunner to the field hospital."
"I'll do it, Sarge," Stocker offered, taking the cart handle from Littlejohn. "C'mon, Gunner. Let's get you patched up."
When he got no reply, the mortar man leaned closer with a look of concern. Lightly touching the soldier's arm, he asked, "Gunner? You still with me?"
After a long pause, the wounded soldier replied softly, "Still here."
With a sigh of relief, Stocker said, "Let's go, Doc."
The two pulled the cart toward the field hospital as Saunders watched and then turned to the others.
"Fall out. Take it easy. I'll be with the Lieutenant."
The sergeant waited as the rest of the men slowly made their way to their bivouac. Then he turned toward the officers' quarters. Taking off his helmet, he ran a hand through his sweaty blond hair.
Fishing in his pockets, he pulled out his lighter and a crumpled pack of cigarettes. Sticking a bent cigarette in the corner of his mouth, Saunders stopped momentarily to light it. Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes.
They'd done it. They'd put a huge dent in the immediate German supply chain, and hopefully slowed their advance. Just one casualty. Saunders opened his eyes. He'd check on Gunner as soon as he finished with the Lieutenant.
Inhaling deeply on his cigarette once again, the sergeant made his way toward Lieutenant Hanley's tent.
CHAPTER 38
Lieutenant Hanley was waiting outside the tent as his sergeant approached. Unsure of how successful the mission was, the officer was glad to see that at least some men had made it back.
"How'd it go?" he finally asked with concern, trying to read his sergeant's face.
Saunders nodded silently, taking the cigarette from the corner of his mouth and slipping his helmet off. Then he tucked the helmet under his arm.
"Between the mortar and the mines, we stopped them. For a while, anyway. The land mines took out a couple trucks and blocked the pass. Gunner and Stocker took out quite a few vehicles and managed to hit at least one munitions truck."
"Everyone ok?"
Saunders shook his head, drawing quickly on his cigarette. "Gunner took one. He's at the field hospital now."
"How's he look?"
"Don't know," the sergeant replied. "Soon as we're done here, I'll go find out."
"You hit them at that pass in the valley like we figured?" Hanley asked.
Saunders nodded. "Not much of a valley. More like just two big hills with a road going through. But that's where they were when we got 'em."
"Think it'd be worth throwing some artillery at 'em?" the officer wondered.
"No," the sergeant replied, drawing on his cigarette again. "We got chased by a bunch of krauts, but managed to avoid them. When they went by us, Brockmeyer heard them talking about going to salvage what they could from the wreckage and pulling back. They'll be gone by now."
Feeling the tension and stress of the day's mission finally draining away, Saunders yawned and rolled his shoulders. His Lieutenant noted the weariness…the sheer exhaustion in his sergeant.
"We can finish up tomorrow. I'll head over to Captain Jampel's with this info now. Go take it easy."
Saunders nodded and reached in his field jacket pocket, pulling out his folded map. Handing it to the officer, he replied, "Gonna see how Gunner's doing first."
Turning, Saunders took one last draw on his cigarette and flipped the butt into the grass. He watched as it arced down in the dark, flared briefly on the damp grass and sizzled out.
CHAPTER 39
Saunders found Stocker sitting on the hand cart with his arm wrapped around the still-mounted mortar. With eyes closed, the soldier had his head leaning against the tube.
"How's he doing?" Saunders asked softly, unsure if the mortar man was asleep or awake.
Stocker opened his eyes, sat up and yawned. "Don't know. No one's come out yet."
"My men been by?" the sergeant asked, looking around.
Stocker nodded. "They've all been here. I told 'em to take off and get some shut eye. No sense all of us sitting here. Told 'em I'll let them know when I know. They left the ammo vests and took off."
At that moment a nurse appeared at the tent opening. Stocker jumped to his feet and looked at her expectantly.
"How's Gunner doing?"
"Gunner?" she asked in confusion.
"Croft," the mortar man explained. "Jimmy Croft."
She smiled. "He's going to be fine. The doctor's still working on him, but he said he'll be alright. He'll be out of it for quite a while though. You might as well get some rest yourself."
Stocker smiled with visible relief. "Thanks. I will now."
As the nurse returned to the tent, Stocker watched her disappear into the light.
He patted the mortar. "Gotta get her apart and cleaned up. She had a busy day."
When the mortar man picked up the t-bar handle, Saunders joined him. "Let me help you."
The two soldiers began to pull it toward Weapons' bivouac.
"You know," Stocker explained, "Gunner and I've been on the same team together since D-Day. We didn't start out in mortars though. Right after we landed, two mortar men had gotten themselves killed, and they were looking for volunteer replacements."
He shook his head and gave a huff. "Jimmy and I figured what the heck? Figured what are the odds that the new guys in the same two spots would get killed again?"
The mortar man laughed. "So, we volunteered. Been together ever since."
Saunders gave a quick laugh himself. "Good thinking. You guys are really good."
"Yeah," Stocker agreed. "We work pretty good together."
As they approached Weapons' bivouac, Stocker said, "I should let your guys know Gunner'll be ok. Doc was really worried."
"I'll do it," the sergeant offered. "Heading back there now anyway."
"Thanks," the mortar man replied. "What should I do with the M3A4? Wouldn't mind keeping it."
"The cart?" Saunders asked. "It's on loan. I'll swing by tomorrow morning and get it."
Setting the handle down, Saunders patted the mortar. "You both did a great job out there today. Glad Gunner's gonna be ok."
"Thanks, Sarge. Night."
CHAPTER 40
Saunders' eyes opened with the first rays of the morning sun. He yawned and stretched, sitting up and rolling his shoulders. He was always amazed how he could get a decent night's sleep lying on the ground in his clothes and boots. His appreciation for the little things in life seemed to grow daily. He'd slept with his boots off.
Reaching for his canteen, he uncapped it and took a mouthful of warm water. Swishing it around, he leaned over and spit it into the grass. He'd wash up and brush his teeth after breakfast, but for now he just wanted to clean the sawdust feeling from his mouth. Taking a long drink, he finished the remains of the canteen. He made a mental note to fill it again after mess.
But first he needed to do something. Throwing off his blanket, he grabbed one of his boots and slipped it on.
"We got a patrol, Sarge?" Caje asked sleepily from his bedroll.
The sergeant shook his head as he put on the other one and laced his boots. "Not yet anyway. I'm going over to Weapons before breakfast. Go back to sleep."
Caje nodded, rolled over and pulled the blanket up around his neck. Standing up, Saunders ruffled his hair with both hands, and stepped over and around his sleeping men as he headed to Weapons.
Listening to the morning sounds of the billet, he was reminded once again that early morning was his favorite time of the day. That quiet…almost peaceful time of the day before the war reared its ugly head to tear the day apart. He hated when the war intruded on this silence with early morning patrols or barrages.
Nearing Weapons, he could see Stocker already up and removing the last of the mortar from the hand cart.
Looking up, the mortar man gave a quick wave as he pulled the mortar base from the cart.
"Morning. Just in time. I was gonna break the four deuce down and clean her last night, but I fell asleep."
Stocker laughed. "Good thing Gunner's not here to see this. He'd be going off about what a slacker I am."
"How's he doing?" Saunders asked.
"Don't know," Stocker replied, setting the base next to the rest of the mortar parts. "Figured I'd head over there as soon as I clean the four deuce. It'll probably be the first thing he asks me."
He laughed again and made a serious face. "You clean her good? he'll say."
Shaking his head, Stocker asked, "You here to take the cart?"
"Gotta return it," Saunders replied.
Picking up the handle, he maneuvered the empty hand cart, carefully making his way around several still sleeping men.
CHAPTER 41
"Manny?" Saunders called out to the open supply tent. "You there?"
"You better have my cart, Saunders," came the muffled reply from deep within the cartons piled in the tent.
"If you came back alive, then my cart better have come back with you."
After a moment of silence, the Quartermaster continued. "I ain't giving you nothing more until I get my cart back. Requisition slip or no requisition slip. Not even a boot lace. Nothing."
When a grumpy huff came from behind the boxes, Saunders smiled and set the cart handle down. He waited.
After more silence, a scowling Quartermaster finally appeared. His scowl quickly changed to a wide smile, however, when he caught sight of his cart. He came over and began to inspect it carefully.
"You didn't bust it, did you?"
Saunders smiled. "What's to bust, Manny? It's a metal frame. You want it or not? Mortars would be happy to take it."
"Of course I want it." The Quartermaster's scowl returned. "It's mine. Come help me get it hitched up to the back of the truck again. Least you can do after you stole my cart."
Both soldiers grabbed the t-bar handle and maneuvered the cart over to the supply truck.
"Mission go ok?" Manny asked as they worked.
Saunders nodded. "Put a dent in their supply chain. Hopefully it'll slow the krauts down a little."
"Good," the Quartermaster replied.
"Everyone get back ok?" He touched a spot of dried blood with concern.
"Jimmy Croft, one of the mortar men, was wounded," Saunders replied.
"He ok?" Manny asked with a worried frown.
"Think so," the sergeant answered. "Gonna check on him after mess."
Manny finished bolting the cart to the truck.
"That's good. Wanna help me load the stuff back on the cart?"
Saunders laughed. "Thanks for the cart, Manny. Couldn't have done it without it."
"Just don't think I'm a soft touch, Saunders. Don't come running back to use my truck or something."
With a quick pat on the metal cart, Saunders made his way back to their bivouac.
CHAPTER 42
The men of First squad were just rising, hurriedly pulling on boots and field jackets. Saunders watched in confusion as his men scrambled to get ready.
"What's up?" he asked no one in particular. "What's the hurry? We got a patrol I don't know about? Company moving out?"
Littlejohn slipped on his field jacket. "Brock heard that Hash is closing down mess early for some reason."
Nelson nodded as he buckled a boot. "Yeah, and we don't wanna miss out on a hot breakfast. We hardly had anything to eat at all yesterday."
Caje adjusted his beret. "Our luck we'll get another patrol today and miss out on mess tonight."
"So, we're gettin' it while we can," Kirby added. "Let's go, guys."
The six soldiers hurried off to mess, buttoning shirts and tucking them in as they went.
"Better hurry, Sarge," Doc threw over his shoulder as he ran to catch up to the others.
Saunders watched his men weave through the billet toward mess. He'd thought about first stopping to see how Gunner was doing, but his growling stomach changed his mind. He followed his men.
As he neared the field kitchen, the sergeant heard heated conversations among the scores of soldiers milling around. Hash was the center of their attention.
Hearing the men's anger and frustration, Saunders pushed his way through the crowd of soldiers toward their cook.
"What's going on?" he demanded.
"These guys are mad I ain't open yet," Hash tried to explain.
"Yeah," Littlejohn replied. "He ain't open yet, and he's gonna close early."
"We won't all get fed," came a voice from the rear of the crowd.
"What're you guys talking about?" the Cook demanded. "I ain't closing early."
Saunders turned to search the growing crowd of angry soldiers.
"Brockmeyer!"
Brockmeyer pushed his way forward to his sergeant.
"I heard mess was closing early, Sarge. Honest."
"I heard that, too," someone echoed.
Saunders turned to the Cook. "Hash?"
The big man huffed. "Don't know where they got that idea. I ain't closing early. I'm opening late. Had a little trouble with one of my ovens is all."
"So, everyone'll get fed?" Saunders asked.
"Sure," Hash replied, waving his ladle. He looked at all the soldiers. "You guys just gotta wait. I'll let ya know when I'm ready."
Saunders looked back at the growing group of soldiers. "You heard the man. Everyone take it easy. Just wait. Hash'll feed you as soon as he's ready."
Kirby threw up his arms in frustration. Looking around, he walked over and sat down on an empty crate.
"Told you guys. That's the Army motto. 'Hurry Up…and Wait."
THE END
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
As mentioned in my earlier story, Star Spangled Night, with all due respect and honor, I have borrowed the names of real soldiers for the following characters:
Daniel Stocker
Jimmy Croft
Both of these soldiers were killed in action in June of 1967 in Vietnam. May they rest in peace.
