Chapter 3. Azzano
Final week of September 1943. Main US Army base, somewhere north of Rome.
"Special Agent Grant, I don't need someone from military intelligence telling me how to do my job," drawled an irritated General Chester Phillips, looking at the man in front of him.
"Sir, with all due respect, my job is to advise you of the possible consequences of the orders you give, especially when they involve full units of soldiers, like the 107th Infantry," replied Grant, who had showed up about a month previous with orders from General Eisenhower himself to provide information to the General on the deployment of HYDRA forces in northern Italy, near the border with Austria.
The fact they were forged orders hadn't yet been discovered. Nor had General Phillips, Agent Peggy Carter, or anyone else who had been in the secret lab when Dr. Erskine was killed been able to notice more than a passing resemblance between Special Agent Steven Grant and Captain America, Steve Rogers, currently finishing up his war bond tour in the United States before coming to Europe to entertain the troops. No one that is, except Howard Stark, already in the know, who had been able to pull strings to get Grant a legitimate commission equivalent to that of a Major in the Counter Intelligence Corps (known as Army CIC). This was the same division that would implement "Operation Paper Clip" at the end of the war, taking custody of German scientists before the Russians did and bringing them to the United States to continue their work. It was the same operation that would allow Arnim Zola free reign to continue his research, an event that Steven Grant wouldn't allow to happen.
It helped that Grant's hair was now dark, and he wore glasses. Like other agents of Army CIC, he wore plain clothes, except for a U.S. collar insignia, to signify he had a rank. He wore a fedora hat and had grown a beard to further disguise his appearance. Unlike other agents he didn't speak another language but with Howard's help did find a young corporal, David Rose, whose name was provided to him in 2023 by an American Romani leader who had helped Bucky get to Bucharest in 2014. Apparently, Rose was known to have been involved in undercover work during the war. Fluent in German, Polish, and some Russian, as well as the Roma language, Rose became Grant's translator, and right-hand man in the army camp in Italy, where General Phillips oversaw the deployment of the land army infantry units. That future Romani leader, a man named Jovan Sakić, provided a list of words and symbols to the former Steve Rogers, that would identify him to Rose as a man to trust implicitly. Getting Rose transferred to Army CIC after finding him had been easy, again with Stark's help.
There were times when Grant wondered if this part had happened before as he navigated through this timeline trying to change it enough so that Bucky didn't get taken prisoner in Azzano. Right now, as he looked at the stubborn general, he resisted the urge to grab the man by the throat and shake some sense into him.
"You see, that's what bothers me about you," said General Phillips, interrupting Grant's thoughts, placing his stony gaze on the agent. "Your fixation on the 107th. They're infantry, Special Agent Grant. They're supposed to go into the field, fire their guns, and meet the enemy on the battleground. If you were a real soldier, you would know that."
"Sir, I served," answered Grant, struggling to stay respectful. "I've seen my share of battle, more than my share. That's why I do what I do now. I make sure that no one is sacrificed if they don't need to be. You sending the 107th into the Azzano area to form a second front could result in them being surrounded, cut off from reinforcements, and almost certainly end in major casualties and capture. Why submit them to that if the objective isn't important?"
"All objectives are important," declared Phillips. "That's been decided by better minds than you or me. They're already halfway there so they're the only ones who can be sent in. Now if you don't mind?"
Just like that Grant was dismissed and he stepped outside the tent where Rose was waiting.
"No dice, huh?" asked the brown-haired corporal. "Explain it to me why it's so important to delay the 107th?" Grant glared at him. "Right, you'll be interfering with the natural order of things. You being here has already done that." Grant looked at him with some alarm. "Relax, I heard you and Stark talking over a whiskey. The man isn't exactly discreet when he's had a few."
Taking the young corporal by the arm Grant led him to an area out of earshot. "Just what is it that you think you know?" he asked Rose.
"I think you know about stuff that hasn't happened yet," he said carefully. "It started with the symbols and words you gave me. No outsider I know of is aware of what those words mean to a Roma. Another Roma would have had to give that to you, and no offence, Grant, but you don't seem like the type who would be in with my people. How did you know my background? It's not on my enlistment papers so someone had to tell you and no one in my family would, unless I was needed for something big. I'm not going to blow your cover. I just want to know what's going on."
The taller man looked around, making sure they were still quite alone. "You're right, the words and your name were given to me as someone I could recruit to help me in this time," he said, fixing his gaze on Rose. "Have you ever heard of HYDRA?"
"Yeah, Nazi science division, headed by a guy rumoured to be crazy," said the corporal. "They're up to some crazy shit as well. There are rumours he uses Jews, queers, Roma and PoWs as slave labour and as subjects for experiments."
Steve nodded, realizing Rose knew a lot more than the average soldier. "If the 107th are sent to that northern front it won't work," said Grant. "Most of them will be killed or captured and taken to a HYDRA factory in Austria as slave labour and for several unlucky few, subjects in a project to create their own super soldier."
"You know that as a fact?" It was said as a statement and a question. "Are we going in to hit that factory?"
"It will be hit but not by us," said Grant. "I'm just making sure that the 107th aren't sent in there too early because the guy who does go in to get them doesn't get here for another month. Unless things have changed ..."
Corporal Rose smirked. "My kirvi, my godmother, sometimes sees things," he said. "She's a drabarni, a seer. She'd pull one of us aside at a family gathering, or a wedding, and say she dreamed that we did something or that something will happen to us. Before Pearl Harbour, I was at a gathering and all of the men were sitting, having a drink while the women prepared a feast. My kirvi calls to me. Čhavo, that means boy, come, I must talk to you. Until I get married, I'm considered a boy." He looked up at Grant to make sure he was paying attention. "Someday, you will be in Italy as a soldier and a gadžo, that's a non-Roma man, will need your help. It is meant to be, it is kintala, which is kind of a pairing that balances things. So, I'm here to be your guide in whatever you need to do because what you are doing here is patjivalo, honourable. You can tell me more, if you trust me, but if you don't, I'll still help you. Do you understand?"
Steven nodded, puzzled by this Romani soldier who had so far done everything he had asked of him. Although he had tried to keep the man somewhat at arm's length he realized that perhaps he was meant to confide in him. His knack for languages, and ability to scrounge resources had already proven helpful.
"I'm here to keep my friend from being taken by HYDRA, although that's seeming to become more difficult," said Steven. "I'm also here to prevent some people from being killed, including a pair of Polish-born sisters. They're part Roma, through their mother. They've already been conscripted by the Nazis and will be forced into HYDRA, against their will. In my ... time ... they tried to help my friend who was taken by HYDRA to become their super soldier, completely under their control. Obviously, I'm trying to prevent that from happening to him but I'm also trying to prevent their deaths, and any other people they have as the subjects of their experiments."
"So, you're not from this time?" asked Rose, tentatively.
"Not exactly," said Steven, deciding to go all in with the man. "I was but I ended up frozen in a glacier for over 65 tears. When I was awakened it was the future and I didn't know that my friend had been a prisoner of HYDRA all that time." Rose frowned, not quite understanding. A couple of soldiers were walking nearby, and Grant stopped talking for several minutes before resuming. "Originally, I was Steve Rogers, Captain America. I'll try to change it so the current Captain America, also Steve Rogers doesn't end up in that glacier. So, I'm him but a future him but obviously not the him he is now ... does that make sense?"
A grin spread across Rose's face. "No, but Kirvi Marie said I had to help you so I will. Even if it doesn't make sense. But if you're looking for two specific women of Roma descent, well, that might take some doing. Do you know where they are?"
"I know their names and the countries where they were killed but my coming here may have changed the times." Steven shrugged. "I have leads but basically I'm working on faith here."
"Alright," said Rose, as if he was all in. "We could probably do with some others. I can keep an eye out for the right sort of person, open minded people. It doesn't necessarily mean Roma but you're going to need a team of some sort for us to get to certain places. Let me know where and when things were supposed to happen, and I'll see what I can do."
He stuck his hand out and Steven looked at it. "Is this some secret Roma handshake?" he asked dubiously.
"No, it's just a regular one between two men who have agreed to work together," said Rose, then he muttered. "Secret Roma handshake. Where did you hear that?"
Grinning at each other the two men headed towards the Jeep that had been assigned to them. Rose was right about one thing. This was too big of a job for one or even two men. Special Agent Steven Grant needed to form his own group of open-minded people who could help him find the people that needed saving. He just hoped that Bucky's capture didn't happen this early, well before the USO tour and Steve Rogers arrived to undertake the rescue. That rescue is what led to the Howling Commandos, something that was necessary to the overall task of eliminating HYDRA before they ever infiltrated further. Grimly, he remembered what the Ancient One told him after his arrival that was two years earlier than was expected. It was possible he couldn't stop Bucky from being captured but he still had to look at the big picture, of keeping him from becoming the Winter Soldier.
"Special Agent Grant?"
He knew that voice, having dreamed of it for years. Even when she was an old woman in the throes of dementia it held his attention. Turning to the dark-haired Englishwoman approaching them he tried not to let his thoughts betray him.
"Agent Carter," he replied. "How can I help you?"
"What was that all about?" she asked. "Do you have intelligence on HYDRA movements that we don't?"
"What makes you think I was talking about HYDRA?" he countered. "I didn't mention the name."
"You didn't have to," she replied. "General Phillips is right about one thing. You are fixated on the 107th."
"I read the casualty reports. They've lost about a quarter of their men and now they're going up against some very experienced units of the Wehrmacht. Nothing good will come out of it." She stood there staring at him until he sighed, realizing he had to give her something. "I'll admit that I know some people in the unit. Good men who will give their all. There's nothing in the regulations that says I can't be looking out for our soldiers."
"I didn't think that was a function of Army CIC," she answered guardedly.
"I'm not a regular agent either," he admitted. "Let's just say I've been given the latitude to act independently at times. I may have intelligence that you don't." She began to interrupt but he put his hand up. "I don't have permission to share that intelligence as it may put the sources of it in jeopardy. That's all I can tell you."
Both he and Rose got into the Jeep as she came up to the side of the vehicle. "Then tell me this much," she said, pulling a paper out of her pocket, showing Captain America's upcoming itinerary. "Why did you have this?"
Grant looked at it and allowed the edges of his mouth to curl up in a slight smile. "You've been in my quarters. Let's just say that I disagree with General Phillips decision to leave the man back home, playing at being Captain America. I think he should be given the opportunity to be what he was supposed to be." She looked at him, surprised. "I know all about him, about the process, about the serum, the Vita-Ray radiation. I'm in intelligence, Agent Carter. It's my job to know. When he gets here, I want him to show the world that the war effort needs him. Have a good day, ma'am."
He smiled at her, then nodded at Rose to drive, leaving her standing there, wondering how this strange man from the Army Counter Intelligence Corps knew one of the biggest secrets of the United States war effort. There was something else about him, something familiar, but so far she hadn't been able to figure out what it was. She looked at the itinerary. Whatever Agent Grant was up to it had to have something to do with Steve Rogers, of that she was certain.
—
Somewhere north of Rome, Italy - 107th Infantry Regiment, last week of September 1943
The company wasn't going to like it, thought Sergeant Bucky Barnes as he left the command tent with the lieutenant and three fellow sergeants. Even the West Point graduate was fuming and stopped to take a cigarette pack out of his pocket, offering one to each of the sergeants and lighting theirs before lighting up his own. They all took a drag then Lieutenant John Heston looked around them to make sure no one was close by.
"Well," he drawled, "at least we know what the objective is. How the hell we're supposed to achieve it with our numbers is beyond me."
Barnes said nothing; neither did the others. It wasn't their job to contradict the lieutenant, especially when he was right. Taking another drag of his cigarette Barnes looked around the camp of newly erected tents, glad they had those finally. Those tents had followed them for weeks as they fought north from Rome, pushing back against the German Wehrmacht infantry divisions but only catching up with the 107th now, giving them decent shelter, including showers and a real mess tent. But now ... now they were being rushed back into action instead of being allowed to rest, heal from their wounds, and wait for reinforcements, as they were down to about 15 men per squad, instead of the 20 each that originally made up the four squads of A Company. The two other companies were facing the same issue. Going north towards the Gothic Line, the plan was to break through and fight right up to the Alps bordering Austria. It was supposed to be a pincer move, cutting off the German divisions still in the eastern half of Italy. Sure, it might work, but with their numbers Barnes doubted they could hold that line long enough. More likely was the chance they would be surrounded by the Wehrmacht and slaughtered.
"I'll give the guys in my squad the bad news," he said to the lieutenant. "At least we get two nights in the tents and hot food."
"Thanks," said the young officer, gratefully. "Gentlemen, I'll see about getting some extra ammo and rations. We're going to need it."
Nodding at each other, Barnes and the other sergeants left Heston there. He felt bad for the guy, as he took his first command seriously and had gone out of his way several times to make sure the men had what they needed. When you got right down to it, he was just as much at the mercy of the generals who thought up this cockamamie scheme as the enlisted men were. As he approached their grouping of tents, he saw Dum Dum sitting out in front of the one they shared, whittling a piece of wood; trying to make another whistle for one of his kids, probably. Even out here, thousands of miles away he was still a doting father. The big man looked up expectantly at Barnes.
"Sarge? What's the news? Are we getting a break from the action?"
"Not likely, Corporal," he said, making Dum Dum wince, as Barnes only ever addressed him by rank whenever it was bad. "Gather the men to meet here asap."
Ten minutes later Sergeant Bucky Barnes had his squad gathered around him. He looked at Dum Dum and Gabe, guys he had been close with through basic training. Most of the others had also been at Camp McCoy in Wisconsin for basic but he didn't get to know them well until they shipped out. A couple of guys were transfers from other units; ones that had been decimated in action. In the three months since they arrived, they had been in the middle of some pretty heavy fighting, going non-stop since landing in Salerno. He coughed, feeling some congestion bothering him, pretty sure his cold was going to get worse before it got better.
"What's the deal, Sarge?" asked Hoskins, a guy from Yonkers. "Are we waiting on reinforcements?"
"No, we're not," admitted Barnes. "We'll get tonight and tomorrow night here then we're back out in country. All three companies. We're headed towards the Gothic Line."
There were groans, not that he could blame them, but it was his job to make sure everyone was ready to do theirs.
"Stop being moaning Minnies," said Barnes. "The lieutenant is going to get us more ammo and rations. Make sure you take as much as you can carry. Wash your socks, check your boots for leaks, make sure your weapons are operational, you know the drill. If you want to write home, do it now or tomorrow morning at the latest. Mail goes out at 16:00 tomorrow. Hand your letters to Corporal Dugan before then. Any questions?"
"Yeah, how do we get out of this chicken shit outfit?" asked Spumoni, a nickname meaning "ice cream" as his real last name was Spinosi, another Brooklyn boy.
"When you find out let me know," joked Barnes. "That's it, that's the announcement. Dismissed."
There was still some mumbling but the others, except for Dum Dum and Gabe, dispersed. Gesturing with his head to follow him, Barnes went inside the tent. Taking his cigarettes out he offered them each one, although they lit theirs up themselves.
"Bucky, how bad is it?" asked Dum Dum.
"We could end up surrounded on all sides," he replied, tiredly. "No chance of reinforcements either. I'm only telling you because I trust you two not to say anything. If I buy the farm, I would appreciate you writing my parents. I'll do the same for you."
"Anyone else?" asked Dum Dum.
"Yeah, Eleanor Warren and I are still friends," smiled Bucky. "Thanks. You can write to Steve Rogers and send it to my parents. They'll make sure he gets it."
The other two men headed out leaving Bucky there as he laid back on his bunk. These latest orders were crazy. They were already low on numbers, plus many of them were fighting illness, either colds like him or worse, dysentery. Still, those weren't considered reasons to stay back, not unless you passed out in front of the general. Even then the stone-faced old bastard would tell you to shake it off. Bucky reached into his pocket for his wallet, pulling out the group picture of his parents, his sister Rebecca, and Steve.
"Glad you're not here, buddy," he said out loud. "Wish I knew what you were doing."
His mother had written him about Steve suddenly being drafted into a special division of the army. It was all hush hush but at least he was back in the States doing whatever it was he was doing, and not here where the conditions would likely kill the little guy. A fit of coughing overtook him again and he rolled onto his side, hoping it would lessen. Fuck, he felt like shit.
Two days later the men of the 107th boarded trucks, heading to a rendezvous closer to the front. They were replacing another battalion; one whose numbers were worse than theirs. Those lucky bastards would get the ride back to the base camp while the men of the 107th would begin advancing deeper towards enemy lines. For several weeks the three companies pressed forwards, fighting many battles against the Germans and pushing the line closer towards Austria. With more casualties and injuries that sent soldiers off the line the luck of all three companies of the 107th finally ran out in the third week of October. As feared by Special Agent Steven Grant most of the 107th Regiment became surrounded by five mortar divisions of the German army, near the village of Azzano in northern Italy. They were pounded relentlessly by the bombs, losing many of their commanders, including Lieutenant Heston, in charge of A Company. Barnes, aware that B Company wasn't yet surrounded ordered contact be made for support from them, but their radio had been rendered useless by shrapnel damage. Before he could send a runner, they came under attack by an advance of the German infantry unit attached to the mortar division and retreated to the craters left behind by the mortar attacks, to begin what looked like the final defence of their position.
Out of the darkness blue flashes of light sped towards the German infantry, vaporizing the soldiers as they were hit. Puzzled by what seemed to be support of their position the remaining men in the 107th stood up, watching as a behemoth tank came over the rise, firing at the now retreating German infantry. Suddenly, it stopped, then the turret turned towards them. With several men yelling to take cover in the craters left by the mortar blasts the remaining members of the company huddled there, defenceless against the strange cannon that shot those blue flamed flashes. As quickly as the attack happened it ended and Bucky Barnes, along with the others still alive in his company, were surrounded by troops dressed in black armour-like coverings. As these strange soldiers pointed large rifles at them, seemingly powered by a glowing blue component, the Americans heard a word, aufgeben being yelled at them.
"They want us to surrender," said Private Gabe Jones, fluent in German. "Bucky, what do we do?"
The young sergeant grimaced. "Tell them we surrender. What choice do we have? We can't fight against those guns."
As they were rounded up Barnes asked Dum Dum to estimate a head count. While they were herded away from the battlefield they could see the dead, as well as the other survivors being brought to their position.
"As best as I can tell there's about a hundred of us," said the corporal. "There aren't many from B Company in the dead or in this group so maybe some of them got away and can bring reinforcements to rescue us."
"From that tank?" asked Barnes. "You saw what that cannon fired. We've got nothing that can defend against that. Our war is over, Dum Dum."
More German was yelled at the Americans by the mystery soldiers which Gabe translated into an order for the survivors to march. At first, they stumbled in the dark, overwhelmed by the carnage around them. As more orders were given to increase their pace it seemed anyone unable to keep up were shot and the healthier soldiers began supporting the weaker ones. After marching for what seemed like a long time they were finally ordered to stop and allowed to sit. It was then that transport trucks arrived, and they were loaded into them, jammed shoulder to shoulder, even sitting on the truck bed. It was a rough ride that lasted hours. When it ended and the truck flap lifted from the back of the truck a blast of cool air hit them. Stepping out of the trucks as best they could the men saw they were at a large facility, surrounded by forest and the mountains.
"Where are we?" asked Gabe, in German, receiving a blow to the head for his trouble.
Bucky and Dum Dum sprang to his defence and were both hit down as well, sent to their knees with rifles poked into the back of their necks. At that moment Bucky began coughing and was hit again. Raising his hands in total surrender he calmed himself and was helped back up by Dum Dum and Gabe. The order was given for them to move, and they were shoved through a doorway, into what looked like a factory. As they were pushed and herded through the space, they noticed the workers were PoWs, definitely against the Geneva Convention. Dum Dum brought it up and received a shove in his side that had him ready to fight.
"Easy, Dugan," said Bucky, putting a hand on his arm. "These guys aren't German. Look at their uniforms. They have an octopus symbol with a skull for the head."
"What do you think it means?" asked the big man.
"I don't know but they don't seem to care about treating us right," said the young sergeant. "I need you, Dum Dum, so take it easy."
The prisoners finally reached their destination, a series of round cages with a walkway above it. There were no beds, or chairs, or bathroom facilities. Whoever these people were they didn't seem bothered with treating them as people and Bucky began wondering just what was going to happen to them. The three of them were pushed into a cage with two men already in it. Dugan fell against the one and the man, an Englishman, pushed back against the bigger man, telling him to bloody well stand up. That brought Dugan's fists up, ready to fight the Englishman, a major, by the look of the insignia on his collar.
"Stand down," wheezed Bucky, as he doubled over, coughing again. "Don't waste your energy on fighting amongst ourselves."
The major relaxed then pushed his hand out to Dugan. "My apologies, Corporal," he said precisely. "Major James Montgomery Falsworth. The bastards have been forcing us to compete for food, water, everything. Your sergeant is right that we should stick together."
Dum Dum nodded and grasped the man's hand, shaking it once. "Dum Dum Dugan. What's the deal with these guys?"
"They're called HYDRA," said Falsworth. "Originally the deep science division of the Nazis but their leader has set himself against the Nazis. This factory is in Austria and they're using PoWs to build their weapons and machines. This facility is under the command of a sadist named Colonel Lohmer. Try to avoid his notice. He has killed several men just for displeasing him."
The others introduced themselves but when Bucky began coughing again Falsworth looked at him with concern.
"Try to get better," he suggested. "I know that's an impossible task in these conditions but if you show weakness they will treat you worse. There's a scientist here, a Dr. Zola, who has been performing experiments on the prisoners. He takes the ones who can't work anymore and we never see them again."
Bucky nodded and stood up. From what Dugan told him when he did a head count, he was the highest-ranking soldier left of the 107th Regiment. The other lieutenants were dead or had escaped and there was just him and one other sergeant who was worse off than him. Those who were left of the 107th were his responsibility now and he didn't want to lose anyone. He just hoped that some of B Company managed to escape and would be able to raise the alarm about HYDRA. These guys needed to be stopped but at least they could sabotage what was being built in the factory until they were rescued. At least that was his plan.