Screaming Eagles

^THIRTY-NINE COLEY

Tramble looked at Coley, eyes pleading. He touched his chest and bucked once, body lifting off the seat before settling down again. A bubble of blood formed on his lips then his eyes closed.

He didn’t move again.

“Stop shooting at us!” Coley tried to yell, but he’d been dazed after being tossed out of the jeep like a ragdoll.

Von Boeselager helped Coley up, and the men took shelter behind the vehicle. The others had come to a halt behind them, and men poured out of their transports and pointed guns in the direction of the Allied line.

To their left, the force of Germans had taken an interest in them, and some shifted to advance on their position.

Coley coughed and tasted blood. He’d bitten his tongue. He poked his head over the side of the jeep to take in what was happening. They’d been fired on by their own men. If they stayed here for much longer, they wouldn’t stand a chance. They were already sitting ducks.

He made a hasty decision, and prayed it would work.

“Men. Stow your weapons and put your hands in the air. Yell ‘surrender’ at the top of your lungs and move toward the line in single file. I’ll take the lead.” Coley said then leaned to the side and spit out blood.

He knew he’d be the first one to get shot, but he set the example and slung the Thompson over his shoulder. He lifted his hands high in the air and stepped around the jeep, yelling that he was surrendering at the top of his lungs.

Behind him, a mass of Germans closed in. There were only twenty-five yards between the enemy and their location.

He walked at a fast clip and the rest of his men fell in line, yelling that they were surrendering, which was the stupidest fucking thing he’d ever heard in his life. Surrendering to their own forces was beyond madness.

Several men left their dugouts and advanced on the men, with guns lowered and ready to kill.

The first man to arrive was a Sergeant, who took in the men with a quick glance.

“Sir, thought you were the enemy. We’ve seen our guys working with the Germans back there.” The man nodded at the advancing force.

“We’ll deal with it later. Right now I need my men safe. We have POWs who may have vital information about what’s been happening. Tell your men to stop shooting. You already killed one of my Corporals.”

“Ah, Christ, sir. I’m real sorry about that.”

Coley was mad as hell. They’d shot Tramble, and now the man’s body was in the snow, and there was no way to go back for him.

“We didn’t know,” the man reassured him. He looked harried and exhausted. He hadn’t shaved in days, and his eyes were lined by dark bags.

Coley shook his head and didn’t say another word. He led the way as he struggled over packed snow to reach the Allied line. When they found a dugout to take cover in, his men spread out and joined the ranks. Von Boeselager and two of his men stuck close, but kept their hands on their heads.

Coley turned to look at his jeeps, and found they’d been completely swarmed by figures in white and brown. Some of them started shooting at the Allies, so the men around him returned fire.

Then the forest erupted as thousands of Germans advanced on their position.