James Benn - A Mortal Terror

“Don’t worry, Danny,” I said. “Everyone’s scared. But we’ll get out of this, believe me.”

“I’m not scared. Well, maybe I am, who wouldn’t be?”

“Right,” I said, sensing that I was missing something.

“Danny is a good shot. He is a warrior today,” Charlie said.

“I killed a man, Billy.”

I put my hand on his shoulder. There were no words for this moment. Sure, that was what we were here for. Kill or be killed and all that. But when it was your little brother bearing the burden of death, words seemed useless. But I felt I had to come up with something. “The real test is not living or dying, kid. It’s killing and living.”

“It felt strange,” Danny said. “Like I should have felt worse about it. But then I felt bad that I didn’t.”

“It was his time to die, not yours,” Charlie said. “Usen gave you good eyes and a steady hand. He would not want you to turn away from his gifts.”

“When did this happen?” I liked it that Usen was watching out for Danny, but I needed to know what was going on in the here and now.

“Not long ago,” Danny said. “Flint found a gully that leads up to the hill. We crawled up it and got an angle on the machine gun crew. They were firing into the smoke and didn’t see us. I lined up a shot and took it. I got the gunner, saw his helmet fly off. Then they started throwing grenades, and we had to get back.”

“Why Flint? Louie’s your squad leader.”

“Louie is dead,” Charlie said.

“No he isn’t, I just talked to him.”

“Louie is dead,” he repeated. “He knows it is his time, and he is waiting. He is dead.”

“He is acting strange,” Danny said. “Like he doesn’t have a care in the world.”

“He knows he is free of this earth,” Charlie said.

“But why-” I didn’t get a chance to finish. Stump crawled up to us, hugging the embankment.

“Sorry to interrupt the reunion, boys. Billy, that runner you sent made it back.”

“How’d he get through?”

“He said a Colonel Harding turned him right around, sent him up the streambed in the other direction. Come on.”

Danny and I shook hands, putting on a good show for everyone watching, saying “See ya later” like we’d meet up at Kirby’s for a beer. I followed Stump. The odd shot rang out from above, but it had turned quiet. I figured the Krauts knew they had us pinned good. If I were in their shoes, I’d hustle up some reinforcements before nightfall, when we had a better chance of pulling out in the dark. Until then, I’d conserve my ammo, just like they were doing.

The PFC was with Evans and Flint, and they were all checking watches. Flint gave a curt nod as he set his watch, all business.

“Boyle,” Evans said. “We’re moving out in fifteen.”

“What’s your name?” I asked the PFC. Evans was doing all right, but I wanted to hear exactly what Harding had planned, and this kid was the only one with a clue.

“Kawulicz, Lieutenant. Robert Kawulicz. But they call me Bobby K, on account of the Polack name.”

“Okay, Bobby K, I’m going to tell Colonel Harding it’s time for corporal’s stripes as soon as we get back. Now tell me what he said to you.”

“He told me that if I could get to you, I could bring you back. He pointed me down that streambed, and sent a few smoke rounds in. The wind didn’t take it like it did above ground. I stayed low, had to crawl in a few places, but they never saw me.”

“Good work, Bobby K. You ready to lead us back?”

“Sure as hell don’t want to stay here,” he said.

“Okay, the smoke is going to hit all over, but mainly on the streambed,” Evans said. “So the Germans won’t know what we’re up to. Stump, go tell Father Dare to get the wounded up front. We don’t have much time.”

“That’s why the wounded should be at the tail of the column,” I said, hating how easily the words came.

“No, we have to take care of the wounded, especially the litter cases,” Evans said. “That’s an order. I’m in command here, not you, Boyle.”

“Billy’s right,” Flint said. Stump nodded his agreement. “The wounded will go as fast as they can, which is slower than the rest of us. Put them up front and you slow down eighty or so men. Say someone drops a litter, and everyone has to wait. The wind could kick up even worse, and suck the smoke right out of that streambed. Then we’re all dead men.”

“Put the wounded in the rear, they’ll make it out almost as quick,” Stump said. “Without endangering everyone else.”

Evans was silent. He was new to the mathematics of war.

“Time’s wasting,” Flint said.

“Okay, Okay. Bobby, you’re our scout. Flint, take him up front. Have Louie’s squad close behind you. Keep an eye on him. Boyle, will you help the medic and Father Dare with the wounded?”

“Yeah, no problem.” Evans was learning fast. Why risk one of your own men as tail-end Charlie?

“Send Louie up front, okay?” Flint said. I nodded and crawled off.

“We going back already?” Louie asked when I told him the plan. “I ain’t finished my cigar.”

“Train’s leaving the station, Louie Walla from Walla Walla. Take care of my kid brother, okay?”

“My days of takin’ care of people are over,” Louie said.

“That’s a sergeant’s job, isn’t it?”

“In this war, a sergeant’s job is to get killed or go crazy. Rusty took care of all of us, and look what happened to him. I’m next, I know it.”

“Hey, you’re not dead yet, are you?” I said, trying to snap him out of it. He looked at me like I was crazy, which didn’t surprise me. “You’re still breathing, so get your squad up front, and keep them low and quiet.”

I told the same thing to Danny and Charlie. Sticks was with them, the tall kid from the squad. I wished them luck. Father Dare and the medic had two litter cases and half a dozen walking wounded. Other men who’d been wounded slightly were already with their squads. The main problem was that we weren’t walking, we were crawling.

The wounded guys didn’t need much encouragement, not even the GI with shrapnel in his leg. No one wanted to be captured and have to depend on POW medical care. Carrying the litters was tough. We shanghaied one GI to help the medic, and Father Dare and I took the other. We had to duckwalk, holding the litter up to clear the ground. It was easy for the first few awkward steps, then near impossible, until finally spasms of pain were shooting through my arms and thighs.

“You were right, Boyle,” Evans said as we halted next to him. “About the wounded.”

“You would’ve figured it out,” I said. “We ready?”

“As we can be. Two minutes until the artillery hits the hill and they lay smoke.” Eighty men hugged the edge of the bank, all facing the same direction, waiting for the signal. “Good luck,” Evans said, and was off, bent low, checking the men. There was going to be no safe place; it was either going to work or it wasn’t. I spent the two minutes catching my breath, rubbing my sore thighs, not thinking about Danny in the lead.

The screech of incoming shells was followed instantly by multiple explosions on the wooded hill. The firing continued, keeping the Germans occupied, I hoped. Muted explosions to our rear were followed by plumes of churning white smoke concentrated along our escape route. The line ahead of me shuffled forward, slowly, like a long line of cars when the light changes. We moved, stopped, moved, stopped. I wanted to scream, to tell them to hurry up, but I bit my lip. Low and quiet, I told myself.

Finally we were moving, into the smoke. It was thick enough for us to run bent over, keeping our heads just below the surface. The smoke swirled in places and settled into thick pools in others. The artillery fire on the hill stopped, and for a moment there was nothing but an eerie, empty silence. The small sounds of leather, metal, and gear, boots on muddy soil, and hurried whispers quickly filled the void. Bursts of white phosphorous smoke landed behind us, and for the first time I thought we had a chance.