Combat! is owned by ABC TV. This story is meant only for the enjoyment of Combat! fans, with no intention to infringe on any copyrights, and no monetary compensation has been received.

Saunders' concern for his men and the progress of their actions in the war might be getting him into a bit of trouble. He just needs some time to work things out. Time that he doesn't have.

Thanks for hanging in with the squad. Let me know your thoughts at the end.

DEAD TO THE WORLD

(Part 2)

CHAPTER 10

All pleasant thoughts and feelings immediately evaporated as Saunders' soldier's survival instincts kicked in.

A jumble of new thoughts flashed through his mind in an instant. Germans. They wanted a prisoner, or they'd have killed him already. He could throw himself into the water and try to get lost in the black river. But it was much too shallow in this small, protected area. He could shout to try to warn the closest sentry. But he'd be dead and the krauts would be long gone before the sentry found him. He could grab for the rifle and try to overpower the soldier. But it was highly unlikely that he was alone.

All of it exploded in his brain in a heartbeat. And just as quickly, all of those possibilities were rejected. Instead, Saunders did the only sane thing. He froze. The fog had lifted. His mind was now razor sharp.

Better to wait for an opening. An opportunity. Anything else would be foolhardy…and fatal. He waited.

"Weapon," came a whisper over his other shoulder. He was right. There were at least two of them. And at least one spoke some English.

When Saunders remained silent, the voice repeated, "Weapon."

The sergeant whispered, "Don't have one," and the rifle muzzle struck above his ear, slamming his head into the tree.

Lights flashed before his eyes as pain tore through his skull.

"Don't…have a weapon," he managed to get out before the rifle struck again. Probably not very much English, he thought while he slowly held up his open hands.

One German grabbed his arm and dragged him to his feet. Saunders leaned heavily against the tree, waiting for his head to clear. The soldier roughly and hurriedly checked him over for weapons and possessions.

Nothing. Everything was still sitting by his bedroll. Now he was glad about his forgetfulness.

"Hands," another German said, banging the sergeant's arm with his rifle butt.

Saunders couldn't be sure if the soldier knew very little English, or he was just trying to be as quiet as possible. Either way, the sergeant got the point. He held both hands out in front of him.

A different soldier stepped out of the darkness with a short rope. They definitely came prepared, the sergeant thought to himself as the German quickly bound his wrists. They were obviously there to find a prisoner…and Saunders had provided them one.

He noted that his hands were tied in front of him. He'd be better able to keep his balance in the dark as they made their way through the rough terrain. They wouldn't have to keep getting near him to hold him up…or pick him up.

But it would also be easier for him to make an escape if the opportunity arose. He tugged on the ropes, testing his bonds. The sergeant was already beginning to run through some of the possibilities.

CHAPTER 11

Any thoughts of shouting if they came near a sentry were cast aside when another German roughly gagged him. It would only get the sentry and possibly himself killed. Looking around quickly in the darkness, Saunders could just see a soldier nervously watching their backs. Five altogether by his estimation. He immediately discarded the idea of somehow overpowering them and escaping. He'd just have to wait for his best opportunity. It was a good way through all of Sector Charlie to get to any kraut lines…wherever they were.

The one who had spoken to him earlier seemed to be their leader. He whispered to the others, and one of them gave their prisoner a shove. With one in front of him and the others behind, they began to head into the trees, away from the river.

Picking his way carefully through the brush and around the trees in the darkness, Saunders followed the soldier in front of him. Occasionally if he slowed, a jab in the back from a kraut rifle kept him moving. He had no intention of giving them any reason to think he might try to escape. Not until he was good and ready…if the opportunity came at all. He picked up his pace.

After slowly walking in silence for some time, Saunders could see the point man frequently looking from side to side. The sergeant had thought that their direction seemed to be a little erratic, and the obvious confusion on their leader's face only added to Saunders' suspicions. When a familiar, old gnarled tree loomed up out of the darkness…for the second time…it became quite clear that the Germans were lost.

By their own design, they were totally unfamiliar with that sector. Even a map and compass would be absolutely useless in the pitch blackness of the forest. The unknown sector and the night had become their worst enemy.

For Saunders, those things had just become his best friends. He knew every foot of this sector. Every rock and tree stump. Smiling to himself, he began working on a plan. But he knew he needed to act soon. It wouldn't be long before the first gray light of dawn appeared.

Then it'd be too late.

CHAPTER 12

Saunders' senses sharpened as he began to peer into the darkness to look carefully at every tree, every rock, comparing them to his mental map. Sector Charlie was like an old friend to him now. He and his men had been all over this area numerous times with never a sign of a single kraut…until now.

Every patrol had been in broad daylight, so he'd had plenty of time and opportunity to study the terrain. The darkness now was certainly making it more difficult…but not impossible…to know where he was. He was able to make out familiar landmarks.

After seeing the old gnarled tree again, he knew exactly where they were…and what was up ahead and off to their left. But to get where he wanted, he needed to somehow maneuver the Germans slightly west if his plan was going to work. Because the sergeant now indeed had a definite plan.

Without looking around, Saunders began to veer off slightly to the left. And then he pretended to stumble, moving even farther west as if to try to keep his balance. The soldier behind him moved up to grab the prisoner's arm to keep him from falling.

"Nein. Schau, wohin du gehst!" the German hissed.

The lead soldier stopped and came back. Saunders remained where he was, but he made sure that he was turned facing more westward. When their leader was satisfied that there was nothing wrong, he headed out once again. But just as Saunders had hoped, the soldier unconsciously bore off to the left in the direction their prisoner was facing.

It had worked. For the lost Germans, one direction was almost as good as another at that moment. As long as it wasn't obviously leading them back toward the American sentries.

For Saunders, however, that slightest change in direction was going to be key to his possible escape.

CHAPTER 13

Now all of Saunders' senses were homed in on just one thing. Finding the next landmark. If he missed it, he was finished. He gave a slight smile in relief when he saw two small tree stumps and a fallen tree appearing dimly out of the darkness off to his left.

From their seemingly useless patrols throughout this sector, Saunders knew that just beyond those stumps was a steep drop off into a fairly shallow culvert. The culvert ran south back to the river, and north, passing under a dirt road maybe three hundred yards farther up. The dirt road was the northern border of Sector Charlie.

Those patrols hadn't been so meaningless after all.

The sergeant knew it was now or never. Another three hundred yards and the Germans would probably know where they were. The dirt road would provide them the orientation they needed to get back to their lines. At some point soon it would be getting lighter, and they'd also be able to use map and compass.

Most important for Saunders, however, was that once they crossed that dirt road, he would be out of familiar territory. He'd be as lost then as the krauts were at that moment.

Now or never.

As they approached the two stumps he tensed. Saunders suddenly made his move, pretended to stumble against the log, and fell sideways to his left. With a convincing muffled shout, the sergeant slid down out of the Germans' sight into the black void.

CHAPTER 14

Tumbling down the side of the culvert, Saunders landed hard in a foot of moving water. Ignoring the pain in his knees and hip, he immediately scrambled to his feet, and began wading in a low crouch toward the bridge. Hunched over in the darkness to make himself as invisible to his captors as possible, he moved away as quietly as he could, using their confusion and alarm for cover. When he was only about thirty yards away, he stopped, knelt down and waited.

Figuring that the Germans would automatically expect their prisoner to head south back toward the river and his own lines, Saunders was hoping to lose them by heading north in the opposite direction. As he patiently waited to see what they would do, he pulled down his gag and began to work on the ropes with his teeth.

Still just barely thirty yards from where he'd fallen in, the sergeant listened intently. It didn't seem like they'd moved. Caught totally by surprise, it didn't appear that they quite knew what to do. He could hear them speaking in hushed tones, but he could tell that they were obviously arguing. No shouts of alarm. No splashing in the water in the culvert.

Long, tense moments dragged by until he finally heard one…maybe two of them slowly heading back south. Searching for him. As he'd hoped, they were looking in the wrong direction.

Saunders couldn't help but smile to himself as he continued to work on the ropes. None of them were eager to jump into the unknown blackness of the culvert in search of their prisoner…who just might be lurking in wait for them.

As the sergeant knelt listening, he finally managed to loosen the ropes and free his hands. He started to drop the rope into the water but hesitated. He was still a long way from Allied lines with no weapons. He stuffed the rope into his pants pocket.

If the krauts abandoned the idea of retrieving their escaped prisoner, then all Saunders had to do was wait quietly for the soldiers to leave and pass him by. Then when they were a safe distance away, he would head back to his own lines.

He waited.

CHAPTER 15

Saunders hardly felt the swirling water around his knees as he thought about the whole situation he'd found himself in. And there was certainly one heck of a lot to think about.

Why did they need a prisoner now? Why search for one in a sector they'd never actually patrolled before as far as he could tell? Why not look in one of the other sectors where they were almost assured of finding a prisoner? Why take the chance on an unfamiliar sector where they could easily get lost in the dark?

So many questions with no answers. Saunders suddenly froze as his senses focused on the now approaching Germans. The others must have returned…empty-handed. He strained to catch any movement in the darkness.

The soldiers were moving cautiously, slowly passing him by. They'd given up on him and were leaving. Was that their only mission, which they failed? Or was there something else?

The sergeant's mind was racing. He had no weapons. He didn't even have his field jacket or helmet. All he had was a head full of questions. He touched his pants pocket…and a rope.

It would probably be getting lighter very soon. Everything was telling him to wait for them to pass and then make it back to his own lines. But his nagging soldier's instincts kept the same thoughts echoing over and over in his head.

Why?

So many unanswered questions. As the sounds of the enemy began to fade, Saunders made a decision. He turned to follow.

His instincts were screaming that the answers to all of his questions were vital…and those soldiers would lead him to the answers.

CHAPTER 16

Rolling over, Caje stretched and yawned. Squinting at his watch, he looked twice.

0645 hours.

He sat up and looked around. Sarge always rousted them out at 0600 hours so they'd have time to wash up and get to mess. Caje glanced over at their sergeant's bedroll. Empty. He was already awake, but why didn't he get them up and moving? Caje thought as he looked out over their billet. Couldn't be too far. He'd left his weapon, helmet and field jacket.

Grabbing his boots, the Cajun quickly began to pull them on.

"Kirby! Doc!" he called out as he laced up a boot. "Up 'n at 'em! Let's go!"

As the two soldiers slowly woke, Caje leaned over and pushed Littlejohn's shoulder. The soldier didn't move. He gave a harder push.

"Littlejohn…Billy…Brock!"

"C'mon, everyone! Rise and shine. If we don't get moving, we'll miss mess."

Nelson yawned and sat up. "How come you're getting us up, Caje? What's going on?"

"We got a patrol?" Brockmeyer asked sleepily, looking over at their sergeant's empty bedroll. "Where's the Sarge?"

Caje buckled his boots and stood up. Tucking in his shirt, he replied, "Don't know. He was gone when I woke up. Maybe he's with the Lieutenant."

"I thought the patrol wasn't until tonight," Doc said, slipping on his field jacket.

"We'd better hurry up and eat in case the Lieutenant changed his mind,"

Littlejohn offered as he pulled on a boot.

"Maybe the Sarge'll be back by the time we finish," Brockmeyer added.

"Maybe he's already at mess," Billy wondered.

"Then why wouldn't he wake us?" Doc asked, slipping on his helmet.

"Anyways, wherever he is don't matter right now," Kirby replied. "He'll catch up to us."

He stood up and tucked in his shirt. "I'm hungry. Let's eat."

CHAPTER 17

Wading through the water, Saunders was moving as carefully and quietly as possible, yet still keeping up with the Germans. One false move and he'd either be dead or taken prisoner again.

Luckily for him, the Germans were also moving slowly. They not only had to make their way through unfamiliar territory in the dark, but now they had the added problem of an escaped prisoner possibly being out there somewhere in the darkness. An unarmed one…but still the enemy. They knew that he'd most likely high-tailed it back to Allied lines, but they couldn't be sure. Daylight couldn't come too soon for them.

For Saunders, daylight was not his friend. And it was coming fast. By the time he reached the bridge, he could just make out the soldiers ahead of him as they stepped onto the dirt road.

Their leader gave a short laugh of relief.

"Ich weiß wo wir sind."

Saunders watched as their leader pointed north. He realized that they finally knew where they were and which direction they needed to head.

As the soldiers stood in the road, several pulled out rations. The sergeant's stomach growled and he clutched his belly, panicking that the krauts would hear. But the soldiers were intent on their food and quiet conversation.

Their confidence had returned. They knew where they were. They were heading back into a familiar sector. And it seemed that their prisoner was long gone.

Saunders, however, felt his tension and anxiety levels rise. He was heading into the unknown. In broad daylight.

Unarmed...and alone.

CHAPTER 18

Billy looked around at everyone eating. "I don't see Sarge anywhere. He's gonna miss breakfast."

Littlejohn scraped the last of the eggs off his plate. "Maybe he already ate, Billy. Ever think of that?"

"If he had an early meeting with the Lieutenant," Brockmeyer offered, "he probably grabbed something first."

"I guess so," Nelson agreed, taking a last sip of coffee and standing up.

"One way to find out," Kirby replied, standing up as well. Looking around, he headed back to the chow line.

"Hey, Petey," the BAR man called out to the young soldier who was scooping out ladles of steaming scrambled eggs onto plates. "You seen Sergeant Saunders lately?"

The young man shook his head. "Not this morning, Kirby."

Kirby returned to the others. "He ain't had breakfast yet."

One by one the soldiers finished up their food and headed to the cleaning station.

"Maybe he's back already," Doc noted as they made their way back to their bivouac.

No one spoke for a moment when they saw their sergeant's crumpled blanket and bedroll…still empty. Field jacket, helmet and Thompson still lying beside them.

"Long meeting," Kirby finally said quietly. "We'd better rest up for that patrol. Looks like it's gonna be a doozy."

"He'll probably want all of us for it," Littlejohn added.

Before they could all settle in, a familiar voice kept them on their feet.

"Have any of you seen Sergeant Saunders?"

Lieutenant Hanley stood behind them.

CHAPTER 19

It was now broad daylight, and Saunders was feeling extremely vulnerable. But the woods were thick, and he took advantage of every bush, tree and shadow, holding back as far as he could and still keep the German patrol in sight.

Returning to familiar territory in the light, the unsuspecting Germans were moving faster. They were also becoming very careless. Relieved to be away from enemy territory and their escaped prisoner, they talked freely among themselves in quiet tones. And the last man guarding their rear rarely looked behind him. They were almost back to their unit, and they knew it.

Their carelessness certainly worked in Saunders' favor as he shadowed their every move. At the same time, he took careful note of the terrain. He began to create a mental map of the unfamiliar sector in hopes of being able to return to his own unit. If he made it, he was most likely going to be making an extremely hasty retreat.

It wasn't too long before their point man veered off to the right and picked up a well-worn animal trail. It seemed fairly wide for an animal trail, Saunders thought. But very quickly he understood why. It was both an animal and human trail to water.

Up ahead he could see the Germans beginning to wade through a small shallow stream. He could hear the fast-moving stream swirling around and over rocks and debris. As he waited for them to cross, Saunders was reminded of just how thirsty he was.

When the last of the soldiers disappeared into the trees on the other side of the stream, the sergeant waited for a short while, and then moved up to cross the stream as well. Wading slowly into the cold, moving water, he dipped down, scooping some into his cupped hands. Taking it in his mouth, he swished it around for a moment, resisting the urge to swallow. The cold, wet liquid immediately helped to relieve his dry, sandpaper mouth. Sloshing it around his tongue and teeth one more time, the sergeant sighed.

He spit it out onto the water's edge. With no halazone tablets, he couldn't take the chance of getting sick now. The added moisture in his bone-dry mouth would just have to be enough to stave off his thirst for the immediate future.

Picking up the trail on the other side of the stream, he could still faintly hear the voices of the patrol up ahead. He ran his wet hands through his tangled hair and then wiped them on his thighs.

Saunders could sense they were definitely getting closer.

CHAPTER 20

The entire squad turned as one on hearing the voice.

"No, Sir," Caje replied. "We thought he was with you in a meeting or something."

Lieutenant Hanley shook his head and looked around the billet. "That's why I'm looking for him. I need to go over tonight's patrol. Sector Charlie again. When was the last time anyone saw him?"

"Yesterday," Doc admitted.

"Yeah," Billy agreed. "When we all went to sleep."

The others nodded. And then Kirby looked at the Lieutenant sheepishly.

"Well, later I woke up 'cause I was really thirsty. I grabbed my canteen, but it was empty. I'd forgotten to fill it before we settled down for the night. Got so mad at myself that I tossed it aside. It kinda bounced…and banged into Sarge's shoulder."

He looked around at the others, holding up a hand. "I know, I know…it was stupid. But the thing is, the Sarge didn't wake up. Didn't even flinch. He was really dead to the world."

"Can't blame him," Doc replied. "He hasn't been sleeping much lately."

"Yeah," Brockmeyer agreed. "Sometimes when I've rolled over, I've seen him sitting up on his bedroll smoking. Or sometimes just…I don't know…just sitting."

"Well, he's probably just out scouting the sector ahead of time," Hanley said with concern.

"He wouldn't need to do that, Lieutenant," Littlejohn answered. "If it's Sector Charlie, he could go through that whole sector with his eyes closed."

Caje shook his head, pointing at their sergeant's empty, crumpled bedroll and blanket. "No, Sir. He wouldn't go without his field jacket, helmet and Thompson."

Kirby reached down and picked up his sergeant's watch, now sitting on top of the field jacket.

"Sarge gave me his watch to use on the patrol, and I forgot to give it back to him. I slipped it into his field jacket pocket when he was sleeping. He musta found it."

The Lieutenant studied the watch and bedroll, and the helmet and Thompson lying next to the field jacket.

"I'll have Price find out who was on sentry duty last night. See if they saw anything. In the meantime, all of you take a look around and report back to me if you find him."
Echoes of "Yes, Sir," went through the squad. Their concern was growing. Their sergeant was missing.

CHAPTER 21

Finally breaking free of the tree line, the German patrol crossed another dirt road and passed through a wide opening in a tall hedgerow that stretched both left and right alongside the road.

As Saunders watched the soldiers disappear through the hedgerow, he realized that he now had another problem. From past experience he knew that a large open field most certainly lay on the other side of that hedgerow. There was no way he could keep up with the Germans and still cross that field safely. And for all he knew, there could be a German billet on that field.

Giving the Germans enough time to move ahead, the sergeant finally made his way to the hedgerow opening. He couldn't wait any longer and take the chance of losing them. He took a quick look. The field was thankfully empty. But as he'd suspected, the opening led to a large field of dead corn stalks with absolutely no cover. The soldiers were a good thirty yards or more into the field already, making their way through the rows of dried stalks, up toward another opening..

Saunders hurriedly studied the surrounding terrain for options. He hadn't risked his life to get this far, only to lose them in a field of dead corn. He noted that the hedgerow that went off to his right turned north about forty yards away, and then it seemed to parallel the German patrol's path up a long slope.

Running to the end of the hedgerow, he turned the corner into a fallow field, and headed up alongside the tall, thick wall of vegetation. He needed to keep up with the patrol on the other side, but he was flying blind. There was no way he could see them, and it didn't appear that there were any openings on his side.

Concentrating on making as little noise as possible, Saunders listened intently, straining to keep a fix on their position. In the quiet of the field, he could hear their low voices and the crunching of their boots on the dry stalks. When he could no longer hear their footsteps, he became concerned that they might have changed course, veering away from the hedgerow. Unsure of exactly where they were, he finally took a risky chance and jumped up to see over the hedgerow.

With just that quick flash of a view, Saunders discovered that the soldiers had stopped, barely twenty-five yards ahead of him, close to the hedgerow. He dropped to one knee and froze.

Had they seen him? He listened and waited in anxious silence, prepared to run for his life.

CHAPTER 22

The men of First squad got to the tavern just as Price and another soldier were entering.

"Any word about the Sarge, Price?" Caje asked hopefully as the squad followed the two men in.

"Nothing," Price replied. "But Costa here saw Sergeant Saunders last night. We're going to talk to Lieutenant Hanley right now."

Entering into the dim light of the tavern, they could see soldiers clustered around various tables that were covered with maps and paperwork. Lieutenant Hanley sat at a table in the far corner, looking over a map. The soldiers crowded in behind Price and Costa. Well aware that they were all pushing their way into the Command Post, they tried to become as inconspicuous as possible. But they weren't planning on leaving unless someone threw them out. Their sergeant was missing and they wanted answers too.

"Lieutenant Hanley?" Price said as they all approached the officer. "This is Private Costa. He was one of the sentries on duty last night."

The officer looked up and sat back. "So, what happened last night, Costa? Did you see Sergeant Saunders?"

The soldiers shifted uncomfortably on his feet, and looked around at everyone nervously. He turned back to the Lieutenant as the others gathered in closer to hear what he had to say.

"Yes, Sir," Costa replied. "I bumped into him out in the street not too far from here. Surprised me, out so late."

"Did he say anything? Where was he going? What was he doing?" Hanley asked, leaning forward. This was the most information that they'd received all morning.

The soldier nodded. "Said he couldn't sleep. Thought he'd take a walk down to the river to wash up."

"That river's pretty wild right now, Lieutenant," Caje offered.

"Yeah," Littlejohn agreed. "It was raining really hard there for a while. River's full."

"I did warn him about that, Sir," Costa added, defensively.

The officer sat in silence for a long moment. He finally asked, "Did he say anything else?"

The soldier shook his head. "No, Sir. I told him to make some noise when he came back so I didn't shoot him by mistake. He said he would…and he left."

He paused. "I never saw him come back."

"What if instead of going down to the river," Billy suggested, "what if he just decided to go for a walk? Kept on walking down the road."

Costa shook his head. "Nope. That road winds around the town and goes off to the north. We got other sentries stationed out that way. I talked to them this morning when we all got off duty. None of them ever saw a single soul. Kraut or GI."

Costa looked around at the squad. "Last I saw Sergeant Saunders, he was standing in the middle of the bridge."

"Well, what was he doing?" the Lieutenant asked.

The soldier shrugged.

"Nothing," he replied. "He was just standing there in the dark, smoking a cigarette…staring down into the water."

CHAPTER 23

Frozen in place, Saunders waited. He could hear the soldiers talking, but there didn't seem to be any shouts of alarm. When one broke out in laughter, he could feel the tension between his shoulders begin to ease up. They hadn't seen or heard him.

As the faint smell of cigarette smoke drifted around Saunders, the knot in his stomach loosened slightly. His craving for a cigarette was instant, momentarily overshadowing his hunger and thirst.

But he quickly realized he had another problem. The Germans were still on the other side of a seemingly impenetrable wall of vegetation. And he knew that they would soon reach the opening on the opposite end of the field, and they'd be gone.

Once they disappeared through that opening, he would no longer be able to follow them. He was trapped in a different field. He knew from their joking and smoking that they had to be fairly close to their unit. Their confidence was too strong.

Unless he could somehow find a way into that other field, they would soon be gone and all of this would have been for nothing. He would have failed in his own self-appointed mission.

He thought about backtracking to where the German patrol had first gone through the hedgerows. But if they really were as close to the German billet as he thought they were, he would run the risk of running into other soldiers. And he could still lose them, even if he never saw another German.

He'd need to traverse the entire length of the field back down to the opening, and then back up again through the open field. Totally vulnerable and defenseless. Foolhardy. He'd be forced to give up the chase.

Giving up would have to be his last resort, he decided.

Saunders began to quickly search along the base of the hedgerows for a way through. He wasn't about to give up now. He had to find a way. He had to.

TO BE CONTINUED