Gunslinger

Over the next few days the temperature plummeted even further, and the snow was a foot thick in places. The patrols were finding it increasingly difficult to move, having to bend and squirm as they moved to avoid knocking snow off the branches of the trees and giving away their movements. The patrols had little contact with the men on their left and right, and couldn’t see a machine gun position or a foxhole until they were almost on top of it. Attacking in the cleared grazing fields was equally daunting as there was only one road and it was ice-coated on top with black ice under the snow. German 88s were zoomed in on the road, which was also mined. The alternative to attacking across the road was to come cross-country over the fields which offered no concealment.

The cultivated woods that they company had been in for twelve days was called the Bois Jaques. To its front lay an open field that sloped down to the village of Foy. The company had to drive the Germans from the Bois Jaques and take the village of Foy. The next objective would then be the high ground of Noville.

At first light on 2nd January, the company moved out and began the attack advance. Moving in the dense woods was an exhausting process, and Dana was dripping with sweat as she lumbered through the snow with her rifle, grenades, knives, ammunition and rations. The sweating was not a problem, but when the company paused to get their bearings she began to get chilled to the bone as her underclothing was drenched with sweat. The snow and trees absorbed the noise, so that even the clanking of equipment of the men walking beside her was absent. She felt a sense of isolation coupled with a feeling of tension of the inevitable enemy response.

Machine gun fire from directly in front hit E Company and, simultaneously, supporting American artillery began to whine over the heads of the group. Immediately the German artillery was fired back, but not as counter-battery. The German shells were landing in and on the paratroopers. As the lead elements began to encounter the German Ops, American artillery resumed firing, salvo after salvo. German counter-fire became intense. Cries of “I’m hit!!”, reached Dana’s ears as well as calls for medics. The calls came from all along the line. Still the advance continued and the company threw grenades and fired their rifles at Germans retreating through the woods.

After covering between 800 and 900 metres, the company came to a logging road through the woods. There most of them halted, but some of the group penetrated into the woods for a few metres to ensure that there were no Germans hiding there. As Murphy, Dana and Brian were standing on the road with a few of the other 1st platoon men, a German soldier on horseback came galloping into view on the road. As the group saw him, he saw them. He whirled the horse around and began to retreat. Brian quickly got off three shots, and watched in amazement as the man slowly toppled off the side of the horse, which continued to gallop away up the road.

From over to the left, Private Fitzwilliam called out.
“Vandenberg, I’ve got a Kraut.” Dana and Brian moved in Fitzwilliam’s direction. Dana had her M1 ready to fire with the safety off. She approached the German from his right side. He was an SS trooper, wearing a camouflage jacket, submachine gun in his left hand with both arms hanging straight down by his sides. His weapon, however, was pointed at Fitzwilliam. Fitzwilliam was down in a prone position with his M1 pointed at the Kraut’s chest. There wasn’t a hint of fear in the SS trooper’s face. Dana pointed her M1 at the German’s chest and told him, in her best high school German, to drop his weapon. The German looked derisively at her for a moment, before he noticed the look in her eyes that said that she meant to shoot. He looked at Dana’s M1 and realized that Dana was taking up on the slack on the trigger. He dropped his submachine gun and raised his hands. Dana glanced at Fitzwilliam.
“The next time you’re confronted with an arrogant son of a bitch like this, shoot the bastard.” The trooper, still sneering slightly at her for being a woman, seemed to understand English as his eyes widened a little at her words, then widened even further when he noticed the sergeant’s stripes on her uniform.

************

It was severely cold that night, and dawn came slowly. There was no firing. Dana was snuggled into her foxhole with Brian and O’Shea. Brian was sleeping with his head rested on her shoulder, his arms wrapped around her. Sergeant Collins came walking down the 1st platoon lines.
“I want all the 1st platoon noncoms at the platoon CP in ten minutes”, he said gruffly. Dana shook Brian to wake him, and he mumbled, then his lips started to move against her neck. Dana felt a shiver snake its way down her spine.
“Wake up baby”, she said a bit louder and shook him again.
“Noooo”, he whined, his arms tightening around her.
“We have to go to CP”, Dana said. Brian’s eyes opened and he blinked tiredly at her.
“Do we have to?”, he whined like a child. Dana rolled her eyes at him.
“Come on, get up”, Dana said with a smile as she climbed out of the foxhole. Brian followed behind her, grumbling but checking out her ass the entire way.

**************

Sergeants Chilton, Collins, Butler, Murphy, Dana, Brian and Corporals Church and Lambie gathered at the CP and sat down. Lieutenants Cremorne, Kennedy and Higgins were there and Cremorne spoke to the group.
“Your platoon commander, Lieutenant Kennedy, has been awarded a thirty day furlough to the States and he leaves today.” Dana tried to hide her smile as Cremorne went on to explain that the PR man at Division HQ thought it would be a great idea to send one officer from each regiment involved in the heroic defense of Bastogne to the States for a war bond drive and other publicity purposes. Everyone looked at Kennedy.
“I have been awarded this furlough”, he stammered, “I feel certain because of the great job you all did in Holland and here, and the only thing I can say is thanks.”

Corporal Lambie jumped up, ran to Kennedy, and started pumping his hand.
“Boy, am I glad to hear you’re going home, Lieutenant Kennedy. That’s the best news I’ve had since we left Mourmelon.”

Dana tried to hide her snigger, as she watched Kennedy. Kennedy, completely misunderstanding what Lambie meant, was blushing and thinking that the company would miss him. She and the other noncoms had carried his load throughout Holland and the Ardennes. The man tried hard, but he just wasn’t suited to the job. Then again, at least he tried, unlike Carlisle who disappeared for hours on end and was basically useless.

Kennedy announced that Lieutenant Higgins was taking command of the platoon, and with a cherry “Good luck to you all”, he was gone.