Screaming Eagles

^TWENTY-ONE TAYLOR

Captain Taylor whipped the jeep around a bend in the road, and settled onto something that passed as a comfortable ride over the potholes, ice and snow. Betsy wasn’t much to look at, but she kept all four wheels on the road when he called for it. The fog hadn’t let up; it seemed to be increasing. He had to slow down to pick out landmarks and signs.

He’d asked Wayne to accompany him to his next visit, and was glad for the company. Wayne had an easy way about him, but smoked cigarette after cigarette.

The back of the jeep was loaded with a few boxes of ammo and Krations. Taylor had made a stop at a supply depot and used his rank to bully some goods for his companies. The officer had been a pain in the ass, but Taylor had been just as much of a pain. After a near-shouting match, the man had handed over a few crates like he was taking money out of his own pocket.

“How many of our guys bought it at Malmade, sir?” Wayne asked.

The wind whistled cold and bitter over the front of the jeep.

“I don’t know, but one is too many,” Captain Taylor replied.

Wayne shifted in his seat and went over his Thompson again. He’d checked his magazines several times now. It seemed to be a nervous habit. Maybe he expected them to run into a German battalion, and wanted to take it on by himself.

“Way I see it sir, we can’t kill enough of them. They broke the rules. We break the rules.”

Taylor sighed, because this was how the rest of the battalions were going to see things before much longer.

“You married, Wayne?” Taylor asked, trying to change the subject.

“No sir, but I got a sweetheart back home. Her name’s Macy and she’s cute as a button. Got a letter from her the other day. She said that we should get married when she gets back. Kinda forward of her, but I’m all for it. How about you, sir?”

“Married, kids, the works. Miss them like crazy.”

“They been saying the war’s going to be over any day now, but it don’t seem like it. Been saying that since I got here. Now Hitler’s marching right back into Belgium. What’s it going to take to get this guy to give up?”

“His painful death, I’d imagine,” Taylor said wistfully. Drop the 101st right into Berlin after flattening it with bombs. That’d take care of things fast… or get them all killed.

Taylor slid the jeep to a halt. There was gunfire in the distance.

He was still a few hundred yards out, and while not impassable, the road was about to become a big problem. Trees had fallen over it, creating a natural roadblock, and the snow was piling up quickly.

More shots, followed by mortars making impact.

“This is the place. I’ll try to get us closer. You keep an eye out, and if you see Krauts, call them. We can’t afford to let these supplies fall into the wrong hands.”

“You got it, Captain. I’ll shoot anyone that looks at us cross,” Wayne assured him.

They poked through the woods, following the remains of a trail that had been here long before the Allies had arrived. More rounds exploded in the near distance. A bullet whizzed by, but it was too high to judge if anyone was actually shooting at them or if it was just an errant round.

“Christ. That was close,” Wayne said.

“We’re almost there,” Captain Taylor assured the man.

They rounded a small hill that was covered in branches and a dusting of snow. Trees hung over this area, making the fog even harder to navigate. Taylor had to slow to a crawl or risk ramming into a tree.

A pair of men came into view. One had an arm draped over the other. Behind them, a few GIs fell back but covered the pair.

“Shit, we’re here,” Taylor said.

He snatched up his own Thompson sub-machine gun and dropped out of the jeep.

The injured man was Sergeant Pierce, a tough but fair soldier that Taylor had very little time with. The Sergeant was at home with leading his men into dangerous situations, and had become Taylor’s go-to when a special mission needed to be performed.

He’d had to disperse his men along a thinly-stretched line, and this was one of the points they’d expected resistance to come from.

True to form, the man was strutting out of the woods, wounded. He still managed to shout orders, even though he was plainly in a lot of pain.

“Wayne, see if you can help. I’ll check on the Sergeant.”

“No problem, sir,” Wayne said, like he was spitting stones.

Captain Taylor moved to Pierce’s side and got the man’s other arm over his shoulder.

“How many?”

“Not sure, sir, but they’re in force. Came out of the mist like demons. We dropped a few, but they hit us hard. Some of the damn Krauts are acting weird. Like they’re running away from their own army. We got ’em caught between us and their own guys. Maybe they’re out of ammo and want to engage in hand-to-hand. Problem is, we got guns.”

“Looks like they’re shooting back,” Taylor said.

“They are, sir, some of them. Others are just running at our lines. Damned if I understand it. Saw two Krauts take bullets to the chest, get back up, and keep on coming,” Pierce said.

“Where are you hit?”

“Leg, sir. Below the knee. I don’t think it’s too bad.”

“Got a jeep here, I’ll take you back to an aid station.

Wayne dropped behind a stump and opened fire. He emptied a magazine in slow, measured spurts, then reloaded.

Bullets whizzed around the men as Taylor got Pierce to the jeep. The kid who had been assisting Pierce helped move boxes of ammo around.

“Some of that’s for the company. Do you have time to distribute?”

From the front line came the screams of men, and more small arms fire. The mortars had fallen silent, but that didn’t mean they were done falling on this location. Captain Taylor lowered himself next to the jeep and peered over the hood. Steam rose into the morning air where hints of snow fell on the metal.

What had been a small assault was turning into something larger. Figures moved in the mist—a lot of figures.

An American machine gun squad got situated at his three o’clock and started hammering the oncoming German forces.

A mortar round landed twenty feet from the jeep and threw a man into the air. Another landed fifty feet away and shattered a tree. Pieces of wood flew at high velocity and caused more screams from his men.

Taylor dropped next to the jeep and broke out his map.

“What’s your name, Private?”

“I’m Grillo, sir. Just got here a few days ago,” the guy called back.

Private Grillo didn’t cower like some of the green recruits he’d seen over the last few days. He unslung a Thompson, took cover next to the jeep, and started returning fire.

Another mortar round landed and tossed chunks of earth around. Smoke rose from the holes, and the smell of explosives and frayed earth filled Taylor’s nostrils. The snow had been pure and white a few days ago. Now it was splattered with blackened debris and splashes of blood.

Pierce rolled over on his stomach and fired back from the rear of the jeep.

“Help me with this map, Grillo,” Captain Taylor said.

The kid nodded and dropped next to Taylor. He helped spread out the map while Taylor placed his finger on the surface and traced out their location.

“We shifted last night, sir. We’re here now,” Grillo said, and pointed.

“Perfect,” Taylor said. He leaned into the jeep, broke out his radio, and started screaming into it, requesting artillery support.

“Sir, we’re getting pounded,” Grillo said, and ducked as debris showered them.

Taylor nodded and spoke into the radio again.

“Stay tough, soldier. Relief is on the way.”

Taylor asked for Delta’s situation, hoping they could move on this location and flank the incoming Germans, but he couldn’t raise them.

“Sir, we’re pinned down here,” the voice came back.

Taylor popped up and returned fire again. The advancing Germans were right on their lines.

“I had ’em falling back to our Alamo, sir, but we’re not going to make it,” Pierce screamed over another mortar blast.

“Right. Get them rounded up. I’ll lead the way, but we’re falling back,” Taylor said.

Pierce screamed for his men to beat feet. A pair of guys lugging a heavy machine gun and ammo were already dashing around the jeep. They found a new location to provide defilade.

Three men tossed grenades from the trench slit they’d been shooting from, then ran. The explosions caused a half dozen Germans to drop and scream in pain.

“Grillo, provide cover while I get the jeep backed up,” Taylor said, nodding at the passenger side seat.

Then something slammed into Betsy and threw her into the air. Taylor found himself dazed and staring up at the sky as he was tossed back several feet. The hard ground knocked the wind out of him, and chunks of ice and branches bit into his back and ass.

The jeep landed on its side.

The man that Pierce had been carrying back was ten feet away and he was moving. A gaping hole in his middle stared back at the Captain.

“Oh, Christ, here they come,” one of the retreating men yelled.