"Up and
at 'em, Kirby!" Saunders used his foot to nudge the soundly sleeping |
BAR man. |
"Just
another few minutes." He begged. |
"Now,
Kirby." Saunders nudged him again, harder. |
"I ain't
goin' to no more wars." Kirby grumbled as he sat up. "They just
ain't no fun any more." |
"Aw,
Kirby, where's your sense of adventure?" Caje grinned as he checked his ammo. |
"My
what?" |
"Your
sense of adventure." |
"Oh,
that." Kirby's joints popped as he stretched. "I left that back at
St. Lo." |
"Where
we going?" Littlejohn asked. |
"Recon.
Five mile sweep." |
"Five
miles!" Kirby stared at him in dismay. |
"You
heard me." |
"Sarge!
My poor feet can't make it five miles!" |
"Do you
think they can make it to the stockade?" Saunders snapped, losing his patience. |
"All
right, all right. Take it easy. I'm comin'." |
"Caje;
point. Kirby; rear." |
"Which
direction?" Caje asked, slinging his rifle strap over his shoulder. |
"North
to the lake, then back west and around to home." |
"Got
it." |
Caje headed
out the door, followed by Littlejohn, Doc, and Saunders. Still grumbling, Kirby
trailed along behind the group. They left the deserted town they'd spent the night
in and made their way across several fields, then into a stand of trees nearly half a mile
long. When they broke free of the trees, Saunders called for a ten-minute rest.
Littlejohn scouted around till he found a shady, grassy spot and sprawled on his
back, his arms laced under his head; Doc dropped to the ground beside him. Kirby
looked around, spotted a nearby tree stump, sat down and bent over to unlace his
boot. He gave a startled yelp as both he and the stump went over backwards.
Littlejohn, Doc, and Caje howled with laughter while Saunders tried hard to hide a wide
grin. |
"You
okay?" He managed to ask after a minute. |
"Yeah.
Sure. I'm fine. No thanks to those hyenas." Kirby answered
disgustedly as he shoved the rotted stump out of the way and sat up. "Even the
dang trees in this stupid country are out to kill us." |
"Maybe
you could shoot it?" Littlejohn chuckled. |
"Aw,
shut up, ya big moose." Kirby replied, trying to brush some mud off of his
pants, succeeding only in making it worse. Carefully checking the area before he sat
down, he finished removing his boot so that he could massage his aching foot.
Saunders turned away to light his cigarette, allowing himself a silent chuckle. |
"Get
your boot back on, Kirby." He said when he'd almost finished his smoke. |
"I'm
working on it." |
After taking
a swig from his canteen, Caje got to his feet and stretched while he waited for the others
to get up one by one. |
"Move
out." Saunders nodded to Caje. |
Shifting the
rifle from his shoulder, Caje stepped out at a brisk walk, enjoying the cool morning air
and the sounds of the birds flitting above their heads. They reached the lake
without incident and Caje turned to follow the shoreline toward the west. A few
minutes later, gunfire erupted and they ducked for cover. Doc dove behind a mossy
log; Littlejohn landing almost on top of him. Saunders ducked below the eroded
drop-off at the edge of the lake, landing up to his knees in water. Kirby, who was
several feet behind them, dropped to the grass behind a low pile of rocks. |
Saunders, who
had glanced back to check his men, felt his jaw drop as he watched his BAR man slowly,
inexorably, slide down the slick grass and drop the intervening foot into the lake water,
sending up quite a splash. Chuckling, he turned his attention back to the Germans
concealed on the hill above them. He fired a few rounds then tossed a pebble to get
Caje's attention. Using hand signals, he sent Caje around to flank the enemy,
motioning for Littlejohn to give him covering fire. As Littlejohn complied, Saunders
heard the BAR rumble to life behind him. Well, at least the unexpected bath hadn't
hurt the rifle - he wasn't as sure about what it had done for Kirby's attitude. He
heard a grenade explode on the hillside and a quick burst of fire from Caje's M-1 then
silence, broken only by Kirby's quiet, continuous cursing. |
"All
clear." Caje called as he started back down the hill. |
He joined
Littlejohn and Doc in staring at Kirby as he stood up. Muddy water dripped from his
helmet and a limp, wet, weed hung over one ear. |
"Don't
say a word." Kirby warned them grimly. |
"Well,
at least you don't have to worry about that mud on your pants." Saunders
pointed out, his expression solemn. |
Kirby glared
at him as he started to climb out of the lake, however, he lost his footing in the mud and
sprawled face first in the mud and water. Littlejohn, Doc, and Caje collapsed with
hysterical laugher, wiping away tears. |
"If
you're done with your beauty treatment, Kirby, we have a patrol to finish."
Saunders busied himself with checking his ammunition. |
"Funny,
Sarge. Real funny." Kirby tossed the BAR onto the bank, making a quick
grab for it as the slime-covered weapon started to slide back into the lake. |
Taking pity
on him, Doc stepped forward and pushed the gun back p the bank with his foot, then offered
Kirby a hand up the muddy bank. Kirby hesitated then accepted the proffered
hand. Doc braced himself, half expecting Kirby to pull him in as well. Once
Kirby was back on solid ground, Doc gravely offered him a gauze pad to clean the
BAR. In total silence, Kirby cleaned his weapon and tossed the gauze aside.
Doc offered him another, along with one of his canteens. |
"Uh, you
might want to remove that weed from your ear." He pointed out quietly as Kirby
soaked the pad and applied it to his face. |
Kirby jerked
the offending weed off and threw it into the lake. Using his hand, he sluiced as
much water and muck off his uniform as he could then hitched the BAR into position again. |
"Knock
it off, guys." Saunders told Littlejohn and Caje. "We still have a
patrol to finish." |
"Sorry."
Caje did his best to assume a serious expression |
"Littlejohn,
take the point. Caje, the rear." |
"Yes,
sir." Littlejohn swallowed a chuckle as he stepped past Kirby, who glared at
him. |
As Littlejohn
moved on along the shore of the lake, Doc and Kirby followed him silently. Shaking
his head, Saunders glanced back as Caje, who was grinning, then headed after the
others. By the time they left the lake and were heading back toward the camp, Kirby
was limping again and Doc finally called a halt. |
"Sarge,
I have to do something about Kirby's foot." |
"All
right. Ten minutes." |
"Grab a
seat, Kirby." Doc told him. |
Kirby looked
around, finally settling onto the ground after checking for holes, sticks, and anything
else that could hurt him. Caje and Littlejohn sat down nearby and lit cigarettes
while Doc unlaced Kirby's boot and eased it off, exposing a heel that was bloody and
raw. Saunders winced in sympathy as Doc began cleaning it. Kirby gritted his
teeth against the pain, his knuckles white were he clasped his weapon at his side.
Doc finished cleaning the wound, then bandaged it, padded it and worked the boot back onto
his foot. After putting his equipment away, Doc got to his feet and offered a hand
to Kirby, who was more than happy to accept. Littlejohn watched Kirby limp heavily
as he followed Caje, who had resumed the point position. |
"Hey,
Sarge, we're almost home, aren't we?" He glanced over at Saunders, who was
putting his canteen away. |
"Yeah,
why?" |
"Okay if
I carry his BAR?" |
Knowing that
the two men rarely got along, Saunders shot him a surprised look, then shrugged. |
"Up to
you. I doubt that we'll run into any Krauts from here on out." |
"Hey,
Goldbrick!" Littlejohn called, hurrying to catch up with Kirby. |
Hurting, wet,
and irritable, Kirby swung around, ready to take the bigger man's head off, pausing when
he saw Littlejohn grinning at him with his hand extended toward the BAR. |
"Why
don't you let me carry that thing for you? You got enough to do to carry yourself
right now." Littlejohn suggested. |
"You
serious?" Kirby stared at him. |
"Sure.
Sarge says he doesn't think we'll run into any more Krauts." |
"Well,
thanks, Littlejohn." Kirby handed him the heavy weapon gratefully. |
As Littlejohn
started away, Doc pulled Kirby's arm over his shoulder and they moved off after
Littlejohn. Caje, who had stopped to wait for them, started off again while Saunders
took the rear position. |
It was nearly
dark by the time they reached home again and Doc was supporting most of Kirby's weight.
They were heading for the aid station when Hanley stepped out of the remains of the
town hall that he had confiscated for his headquarters. |
"Saunders!"
He snapped. "Where have you been? I expected you back at least an hour
ago!" |
"Lieutenant,
I ..." Saunders started to say. |
"In
here." Hanley growled. "All of you. Right now." |
"But,
Lieutenant, Kirby's..." Doc protested. |
"I said,
get in here!" Hanley yelled. |
"Yes,
sir." |
Exchanging
apprehensive looks, they headed for the hall. Saunders, Littlejohn, and Caje somehow
all managed to get inside ahead of Doc and Kirby. When Doc stepped back and let him
step in first, Kirby moved on inside and stopped in confusion. The interior was
completely dark, and there was no sign of anyone inside. Kirby took another limping
step, then reeled back into Doc as lights blazed and a couple dozen men jumped into sight
from behind boxes, broken tables and other debris. |
"Happy
Birthday!" The shouts shook the room. |
Shocked and
surprised, Kirby lost his balance and ended up sitting on the floor at Doc's feet. |
"Not
again." Littlejohn groaned, reaching down to haul him to his feet again.
"Happy Birthday, pal!" |
The End!
Story Copyright Mary Wright. All Rights Reserved.
Read more Dogface Tales by Mary:
The CombatFan web site thanks Mary (aka "EagleLady") for letting
us share these fan fiction stories on this web site.
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