BendingRules

The characters of Combat! are the property of ABC/Selmar or whomever owns the rights. Copyright 11/04 by Anne McG. ** Based on the Combat! Episode “A Rare Vintage.”**





                                                 BENDING THE RULES




The rumble of an engine and the vibration under him woke Lieutenant Gil Hanley to semi-awareness. In his half-conscious state he wondered why the engine was so loud. Sleeping compartments on trains were far enough away from the locomotive engine to be relatively quiet. He then questioned why he was on a train, or was it a train? Raising his left hand he felt rough wooden walls, then realized he was in a sitting position, knees drawn up to his chest. The smell of seasoned wood prevailed as his senses started kicking in. The space around him was closed, dark, and very confined. As he moved to explore his surroundings, his left side set signals of pain from his shoulder down to his thigh. Exploring his left side with his right hand, he realized his clothing was sticky and wet. The coppery smell of blood registered in his fogged awareness as he held up his right hand to his face to try to see the wetness in the dark. It dawned on Hanley that he was bleeding and that realization started bringing back memory to his befuddled brain.

The Lieutenant remembered getting orders from Captain Jampel to move his platoon from the village he held for two days to a winery five miles south from his present position. Jampel indicated Krauts were moving in from the North and information provided to the captain indicated a force larger than Hanley’s platoon could handle. Orders were to withdraw and reestablish a command post at the winery to wait for replacements as well as Item and Love Companies. They then would regroup and push north. Hanley as a precaution send out one squad north to recon for any enemy movement at their prior command post. First squad, commanded by Sergeant Saunders would recon to just below the winery. The Platoon would move south between both recons. He had no idea the Germans already established positions between the winery and the village. The attack, when it came, was a total surprise when the platoon stopped to map and radio their position to HQ. After the first shots were fired, Hanley flung himself out of the passenger seat of the jeep he was riding in to the side for cover. Glimpsing over from the side of the jeep, he saw his driver was dead, shot in the head before he could take cover. Horrified, his heart broke looking at that bloody face. The driver was just commenting on how he missed the taste of a good hot meal, but now that gaping mouth only would know the taste of death. Sick to his stomach, he tore his eyes away from the dead driver realizing he better make his way to safety. Hanley saw the rest of the platoon had scattered off the road into the trees, leaving him alone crouched by the side of the jeep. He had fifteen feet or so from the side of the jeep to the trees for cover. Cursing to himself, Hanley returned fire over the jeep toward the sound of gunfire he heard concentrated in the trees. Crawling slowly, he retreated from the jeep toward the side of the road, hoping to reach a gully, then the cover of the trees. While trying to return fire and retreat, he was hit in the left side. Cradling his wounded side he tried to reach the safety of the gully, but between the shock and pain of being shot he passed out.

He had snatches of memory after that. He felt a notion of movement, garbled voices of German, then being pulled out of an armored car with German accented English rambling about medical aid and a talk later. Hanley figured out the Kraut was a captain with what little blurry vision he could see with. After being dumped on a flat surface, he passed out again. The next thing he knew he was cruelly shaken awake, pain engulfing his left side, the Kraut Captain again wanting to talk. Since Hanley refused to respond he was thrown back down again, the Captain and his side kick leaving. He looked toward the closing doors relieved, trying to sink back down to unconsciousness to stop the pain. Just as he was about to achieve that, a soft voice called him. Hanley fought to ignore it, figuring it was the Kraut Captain again for another round. Trying to tell him to get lost, a hand wound up over his mouth muffling his attempt to say so. Opening his eyes to his surprise it was Saunders, whispering to him to be quiet. Saunders explained why he was there, unfortunately becoming trapped in the winery on recon, when the Krauts came in with Hanley. The Lieutenant in his frustration ordered Saunders to get out with his remaining squad. The only response he received was the prick of a needle in his left hand, then the warmth of morphine spreading through his body to stop the pain and the welcomed blackness he so sought before. His last lingering thought was Saunders was being a stubborn SOB, as usual.

Hanley’s last memories after Saunders were cloudy, due to the morphine. Besides jumbled images of the Germans and his captivity, he vaguely remembered Caje in civilian clothing, holding his hand whispering to him about a wine barrel, then being carried. That is where he was now, he concluded. They pulled it off. The engine he heard must be a truck, and he was on it in the wine barrel. He reached above his head to try to push the top off. He was too weak for the effort and whimpered in pain. Lowering his arms, he tried calling out but his voice came out in a croak. He decided to rest and try again. Closing his eyes he lost consciousness, immediately blocking out the confined darkness surrounding him.

                                                                  ****

Saunders, Doc, and Garrett, the straggler from Fox Company worked their way quickly through the woods after climbing the wall from the winery. Garrett, even though wounded in his left arm, was making quick time with Doc’s help. Saunders was relieved Garrett would not hold them up as he needed all the time he could muster to meet the truck with Hanley on it. Doc was concerned about Hanley’s condition since he never got a close look at his wound. Saunders did briefly inspect the Lieutenant, but had no idea if the bullet passed through or was lodged in his left side. He did not think the bullet hit vital organs and the wound looked like it pretty much bled out. But the blood loss did concern him as he personally knew a bullet in the side or gut could be potentially dangerous. He had to get to Caje and the truck as quick as possible.

Slowing to a walk he looked back at Garrett. “Garrett, how are you doing? Can you keep this up?”

Garrett looked at Saunders with a grin. “ No problem Sergeant, I’m doing OK. Keep going. My legs still work.” He then shifted his weight over Doc’s neck with his good arm to balance himself more comfortably.

Doc nodded to Saunders to keep going. Saunders smiled at the change of disposition in Garrett, still surprised that he killed the Kraut Captain. If not for that action, Saunders would be dead. Up to that point, Garrett wanted nothing to do with getting Hanley out, he just wanted out, end of story. Doc’s approval also got Saunders to think this guy deserves a thank you, but later. Now they had to keep a quick pace. “OK Garrett, let me know if you need a break and we will take five.”

“OK Sergeant, will do.” Garrett replied still smiling at Saunders expression of gratitude. He thought Saunders was not so hard as he appears, the guy has a heart and cares. Will wonders never cease?

Saunders nodded and proceeded to pick up the pace again. Working his way in a southerly direction from the winery he was hoping to meet up with Caje, one mile from his present position. He hoped that would give them enough distance from any Kraut patrols. Hanley though he was his commanding officer, was someone he could really relate to. Both men found a common bond that was getting them through this war to survive. That bond started in England before D-day and gave them both the strength to deal with the death and loss that war creates. Both men could not describe the bond, even if they wanted too. It was enough they both cared and that bond now drove Saunders on to get Hanley, and the medical care he needed. He thought this was one man he hated to lose. Commanding officer or not, Hanley was a good friend. Saunders never would admit to his men that he desired close friendship. The unspoken rule of this stinking war, hammered in his head by his experience in Italy, stipulated never to get close or make a friend. Close friendships cut off too soon by death meant possible insanity. But again, Saunders reflected sometimes you had to ignore that rule. You needed friendship to help a buddy in need or to have the compassion to save a life. That was also an unspoken rule to war and a key to keeping his sanity since he landed on the sands of Omaha Beach. The one small act to care, was a balance point, that kept his humanity intact and did not make him a mindless animal. As a matter of fact Hanley believed the same thing and proved it by his actions. With that thought in the back of his mind, he concentrated on making his way to their agreed meeting point.

                                                                         ****

Caje finally relaxed as Jean the owner of the winery, drove the truck south. He reflected, maybe the hatred of the Germans for Jean's family loss finally brought Jean around, or maybe he just hated to see a close comrade hurt. The old man’s face softened the way Caje approached and talked to Hanley. There was concern in that face and a tenderness in his eyes where only fear showed before. He looked over at Jean as the old man drove and smiled. The old man smiled back and nodded. Both knew this crazy plan might work. They had not seen any more Germans since they left the winery on their so called delivery. The arranged meeting point was only a quarter-mile or so down the road that Saunders and Caje agreed on. Caje just hoped Saunders and Doc would make it in time. He had no idea how the Lieutenant was faring in the wine barrel in back, and he prayed Hanley was still out cold. The Lieutenant did not register he fully comprehended Caje’s explanation of his escape in the wine barrel. He was pretty much out of it at the time and Caje shuttered to think of Hanley waking up in total darkness in such a confined space. Caje only knew he would hate to be in the Lieutenant’s place right now. He had his own apprehensions if he was wounded or hurt and being in total darkness was one of the things he feared most. Shaking off his thoughts he leaned out of the passenger window looking for the landmark they agreed on, a clearing by the side of the road with a half broken tree they spotted while coming to the winery initially.

In French he asked Jean, "Can this truck make it back the five miles or more in the opposite direction bypassing the winery?" By Saunders map there was a alternate way back to the American lines.

Jean nodded. “Yes. This truck may be hard to start but I know it will not quit. It never has before. Have no fear, we will get your Lieutenant back to your lines.”

Caje nodded and said, "thank you for all your help. Without you we could have never gotten our Lieuentant away from the boche."

Jean just shook his head and looked at Caje. "It is something I had to do for the loss of my family, my country, for my honor. I will not see other Frenchmen lose what I endured. My countrymen fight to preserve family and honor. That is what overcame my fear, do you understand?"

Caje just smiled and squeezed Jean’s shoulder. "Your right Jean, for family and honor."

Caje then shifted positions and looked out the window again. The landmark they agreed on was coming up on the right. He gestured to the old Frenchman to pull over. Jean slowed the truck and parked behind a thick wall of bramble and trees off the road. Jean then pulled Caje’s uniform, helmet, and rifle from under the driver’s seat where he had hidden them. He gave the bundle over to Caje.

"Thanks" Caje said putting the clothing aside. He would change after he got Hanley out of the barrel and checked on him. He just hoped Hanley was no worse off than when they had placed him in the barrel.

Both men jumped on the bed of the truck removing the top off the right front barrel there. Hanley still appeared to be out cold because there was no response to the bright light and air now invading the space. Caje and Jean gently lifted the Lieutenant out of the barrel with Caje supporting his head and shoulders and Jean holding his feet. Moving slowly off the bed of the truck, they laid Hanley on the ground. Caje took off his civilian jacket and placed it under Hanley’s head for a pillow. A spare blanket in the truck was then placed over him to keep him warm. Caje folded the blanket back to look at Hanley’s left side. Pulling his jacket and shirt away from the wound, Caje was relieved to see just soft tissue damage with the bullet passing through. No vital organs were hit, but the Lieutenant had bled heavily. Just in case Saunders and Doc showed up late, Doc had left Caje, sulfa, bandages, and morphine. Good thing too, because Hanley was coming to and had started moving around whimpering in pain. He was due for another morphine shot in case he needed it.

Caje was concerned about hurting him, but continued to clean the wound and dress it. The activity to tending the injury was enough to revive Hanley fully to his surroundings. He groaned softly, opening his eyes. Moving his head to the left he tried to focus on Caje. He finally made out a blurry image of the man working on his injured side. It was no longer dark and he was warmed by the blanket. He heard the man speaking in French to someone else kneeling next to him

"Caje, is that you?" Hanley asked. The question came out slurred, but the face above him smiled in response.

“It's me Lieutenant, try to stay still ... your going to be fine,” Caje replied as he was tying off the bandage.

"Water?" he asked hoarsely, with a throat that felt like sandpaper. Getting his canteen, Caje lifted Hanley's head and gave him several small sips of water.

"Easy Lieutenant, take it slow," Caje told Hanley, pausing with the water. "Your out of the winery and safe," he continued. “We’re clear of Kraut patrols for now and we’re going to get you home. Don’t worry, try to get some rest." With the last offer of water to Hanley, he concluded, "We will be out of here soon, Sir.”

“Saunders?” Hanley whispered when he finished the last sip of water. “Where is he? Where is Doc? Did they get out?”

Caje put the canteen to the side and lowered Hanley's head back down again. He then took the Lieutenant’s left hand and gently held it. "It's OK Lieutenant, Sarge made it out with everyone," he soothingly replied. " Don’t worry Sir, they're meeting us. Jean and I will keep an eye out for them." He glanced at the old Frenchman then back to Hanley. "We’re just glad you’re here now. I’m also going to give you another shot of morphine for the pain, alright?"

Hanley managed a grateful "OK." He was in pain and just wanted to sleep now that he knew his men were safe, but there was one more thing to do. As Caje administered the shot to the hand he was holding. Hanley looked at Jean, smiled slightly and said,"thank you." Jean just smiled back as Hanley felt the effects of the morphine take hold. The Lieutenant closed his eyes and nodded off.

Caje extracted the needle, then put the hand he was holding by the Lieutenant’s side. He seemed comfortable enough and nothing more could be done for now. After tucking in the blanket more securely around Hanley, he glanced over to Jean, then looked off into the woods looking for Saunders. Standing up to change back in his uniform, he softly said to himself, "now we wait."

                                                                    ****

Saunders, finally concerned for Garrett, ordered a five minute stop. The three men were making a fast pace, and looking back at Doc’s face, he decided to give the two men a short rest. Doc was taking the strain of helping Garrett, and knowing Doc, he figured the break would give the medic a breather besides wanting to check the private’s wound.

Doc immediately had Garrett sit down and offered him a canteen of water. While Garrett drank, Doc checked his left arm. There was no new bleeding which was good news to the concerned medic. He changed Garrett’s dressing quickly, then checked him for any signs of fatigue. The soldier’s color was good and there were no sign of profuse sweating.

“How are ya doing Garrett?” Doc asked as he took a drink also, capping the canteen and clipping it to his web belt.

“I’m doing good Doc, I can keep going. The arm is not hurting much. I just want to get where we’re going,” he replied. Turning to Saunders, he asked, “how much further, Sergeant?”

Saunders after ordering the break, had taken out his map to pinpoint his location. He looked up from his map to the other two men and said “ It looks to be less than a quarter of a mile in that direction,”pointing with his right hand straight ahead of them where they sat. “Hopefully, Caje will already be there to meet us. I’m pretty sure we will be clear the rest of the way, but just in case we better get moving. I want to be far away from this area and possible Kraut patrols before dark.” With that said, he folded the map and pocketed it. Standing up, he motioned to the other two also getting up, "Let’s move out."

Though Saunders did not show the concern in his voice, he was worried about Hanley, his squad after that Kraut ambush separated them, and where their lines were now. He had no idea if the Germans succeeded pushing South or were forced back by the American forces. As far as his platoon, they could be scattered all over the country side. Seeing Hanley taken prisoner, he knew something definitely went wrong. His main concern now was to avoid enemy patrols and get back to the American lines, wherever they were. He knew with the Lieutenant so seriously injured and Garrett clipped, it would slow them down trying to get back on foot. If his sixth sense was right, and the road that looped around to the winery was free of Krauts, they could make most of the way back riding. Saunders debated if it would be better just to dump the truck and stick to the concealment of the woods. He would decide that later on. Now he just wanted to find Caje and Hanley.

                                                                      *****

Caje, after changing back into his uniform, sat down next to the sleeping Lieutenant to keep watch. He was tired, hungry, and wanted just to sleep for a week. But his concern for Hanley, and worry for Saunders making it here to meet them, kept him alert. Checking the Lieutenant, he looked peaceful. Hanley’s face was relaxed and the lines of pain etched around his eyes before were gone. His breathing was slowing in sleep and he was no longer moving around restlessly. The morphine had done it’s job. Caje figured the Lieutenant would be out for a couple of hours which was just as well considering his condition, and being handled could be painful when they finally departed. The old Frenchmen meanwhile was dozing near Caje’s feet. This Caje was grateful for, as he just wanted a little time with his thoughts. He was worried being so low on ammo and alone in enemy territory, besides having an injured man to care for. He envied Hanley’s oblivion right now. Caje could not shake off his apprehension of fear for Saunders or his squad. If he only knew Saunders thoughts were running parallel to own his right now, he would not feel so alone.

Suddenly, a noise of twigs breaking in the woods to his right broke his train of thought. Getting up quickly he moved over to a clump of bushes for cover. Aiming his rifle in the woods, he signaled the now alert Frenchman toward a tree to conceal himself. Jean moved quickly behind the tree aiming an old pistol in the same direction. Caje had no idea where Jean got the pistol, but was glad he had it. Both men practically held their breath waiting to see the cause of the noise to appear.

Movement caught Caje’s eye just beyond the boundary where the woods met the edge of the road. Then he heard a familiar voice calling his name. Exhaling in relief, he lowered his rifle and called out, “over here Sarge.” Saunders appeared out of the tree line with Doc and Garrett trailing him. Caje smiled and motioned Saunders over to where he stood by the Lieutenant. Jean approached Saunders with a nod of welcome. Saunders returned the greeting then walked over to Caje.

Saunders kneeled down and studied the sleeping officer. He gently put a hand on Hanley’s face then pushed back stray hair off his forehead. Hanley shifted slightly, mumbled, then stilled as if he could sense Saunders‘s presence. Caje, who rarely witnessed such tenderness from the tough sergeant pretended he did not see it when Saunders looked up at him asking, "how’s the Lieutenant doing?"

Caje glanced down at Hanley then back at Saunders. “He’s doing alright Sarge.” The wound is not as bad as it looks, and I gave him a morphine shot since Doc said he was due for one. Maybe Doc better check him over now before we move him.”

Saunders nodded and looked back at the worried medic. “Go ahead Doc. Check the Lieutenant over. We move out as soon as your done.”

Doc came over as quickly as he could when Saunders and Caje moved away to give him some room. He lifted the blanket off Hanley and opened his medical bag to pull out bandages in case he had to replace the dressing. Gently opening Hanley’s jacket and shirt he pushed the bandage to the side to inspect the wound. Doc was pleased there was no bleeding, and as Caje indicated, the wound looked clean. Just in case, he decided to apply more sulfa. There was no response from Hanley as he applied the sulfa and pulled the bandage back in place. Doc checked Hanley’s pulse just to be on the safe side, and peeled his left eye lid back to check for pupil reaction. Everything seemed normal. He looked up at Saunders with a satisfied expression and said, "The Lieutenant is doing OK for now Sarge. We can move him. Hopefully, he won’t wake up." Doc stuffed everything back in his medical bag and when he got to his feet he added, "The morphine shot Caje gave him should keep him out of it for a while."

“He‘ll be better off anyway.” Saunders indicated. “Caje, you and Jean in the truck. The rest of us will ride with the Lieutenant. Caje, Doc, help me move those barrels off the truck bed. Garrett, stay with Hanley.” Saunders moved toward the truck and turned to Doc and Caje. “Let’s get out of here.”

The three men quickly pulled the barrels off the truck bed. Caje and Doc then went back to pick up and carry over the Lieutenant. Saunders stayed on the truck bed helping the other two to get Hanley in position, cover him with the blanket, and help Garrett up. With that done, Jean luckily got the truck started and pulled out on the road, hopefully toward the American lines.

                                                                    ****

True to Saunders sixth sense the ride back toward the American lines was uneventful. The road they took around the winery stayed clear of Kraut patrols. After going four miles from their meeting point, they were surprised to see American troops waving them down. Through some miracle, the Americans including Saunders platoon were able to regroup and push the German forces north again back to their original position. The pounding of American artillery helped, destroying any artillery the Germans tried to move in the area. Saunders smiled as he heard the beautiful sound of 105’s in the distance. The Kraut push was over. He was glad that they were able to ride all the way to their former command post and that the medical aid station was already set up to receive wounded. Fortunately, Hanley stayed asleep through the ride and noise of the 105’s. The less he moved the better, as far as reopening his wound. As soon as Jean cut the engine, Saunders and Doc moved Hanley into the care of the doctors. Garrett was treated and kept for a forty eight hour observation period. He would be returned to his unit a day or two after his release. Jean said his goodbyes and left to stay with friends in the village. He would return to the winery when the area was in American occupation.

Saunders was relieved that Hanley and Garrett were being cared for. After leaving the aid station Doc, Caje, and he was able to track down the rest of their wayward squad. All were accounted for and no one was hurt. Saunders slept soundly knowing his men were safe and in their company. He would check up on Hanley in the morning.

After he woke up, Saunders went to the aid station and talked to the doctor who was treating Hanley. There was no major surgery necessary, just some stitches, up to a week’s bed rest, then two weeks of light duty. Saunders had to chuckle knowing Hanley’s distaste of just lying around medically restricted. He planned to visit the Lieutenant often just to tease him of that fact. He also knew there would be a scolding of sorts from Hanley for ignoring his last order of getting out of the winery and leaving him behind. Saunders knew what to say to Hanley as far as those orders. Sometimes you couldn’t go by the book all the time, Hanley had done the same thing himself by bending the rules, if it meant saving lives of his men. That Saunders would definitely remind the Lieutenant of, as he reflected back on his thoughts so many hours ago, about rules.

                                                                     ****

Lieutenant Hanley slowly became aware of his surroundings as voices and noises around him woke him up. To his relief, the voices were in English and the cot under him felt familiar. He was in an American aid station and the voices Hanley heard were of the doctors and medical staff. He was freshly bandaged on his left side and he could move around with very little pain. He was pleased at that fact and shifted more comfortably on the cot. Thinking back, the last thing Hanley could dimly remember was a voice in English saying he was going to be fine and he would be in bed for at least a week. At the time Hanley was just glad he was back home and safe. He fell back asleep content knowing somehow Saunders had been successful and gotten him back behind the American lines. Even now it amazed Hanley that Saunders had come through.

Thoughts of Saunders brought Hanley back to his personal predicament. When he pushed himself up on his elbows, it dawned on him he was laying here just in his underwear. The one thing Hanley hated was having visitors seeing him just in his boxer shorts. He also wanted to get up and move around a little. Not finding his clothing, he wondered if the staff lost the clothes or if there was another reason they were missing. Wiggling his toes, he found at least they left him his socks. Hanley planned to catch the next passing nurse or doctor and demand he wanted his clothing, boots, or at least his pants. Since he could not find the missing items this moment, he decided to find out what was going on around him. Hanley felt like he had slept a week and was out of it. Talking to a corporal in the cot to his right, he was informed he had been here two days. The Corporal explained the failure of the Kraut push, the success of American forces to retake their lines, and the number of casualties, which were fortunately light. Hanley was relieved to hear that, but damn, where were his pants? Laying back down he felt like throwing a tantrum.

At that point Saunders wandered in to visit. He was clean shaven, with a fresh uniform, and looked well rested. Saunders smiled when he saw the frustrated look on Hanley’s face. His eyes sparkled with mirth as he grabbed a stool near by to sit down on the right side of the Lieutenant’s cot.

“Hey Lieutenant,” he brightly said. “I see you are feeling better.” Touching Hanley’s shoulder in greeting he repositioned himself on the stool to be more comfortable.

“I’m fine Saunders, thanks, Hanley retorted. But I can’t find my clothes. They either lost them, or is there another reason?” He was glaring at his Sergeant, somehow knowing Saunders was behind the missing clothing.

Saunders was trying to keep a straight face. “Well, Sir” he began, “the men of your platoon were informed you were to be restricted to rest for a week. Knowing your stubbornness and dislike to be stuck in bed, the men informed the staff here to store your clothes elsewhere. I doubt you would want to be saluted or seen in your underwear. This would force you to follow doctor’s orders for once, and to stay put. Hey, at least you still have your underwear!”

Hanley’s jaw dropped as he heard Saunders reply. As he could see Saunders was about to break out laughing at his stunned expression, the Lieutenant just shook his head. Looking at Saunders with a big grin he asked, “Do I assume a certain sergeant was behind this?”

“Well, sir,” Saunders said returning his grin. “Lets just say I made a suggestion.”

“Ok, Saunders,” Hanley said rolling his eyes. “You win. I promise to follow orders. Talking about orders, there is one thing I would like to ask you.”

Saunders knew what was coming and replied, “Would this be about your last order to me, Lieutenant?”

“Since you asked Saunders, yes it would be. Don’t worry, I’m not going to chew you out.” Hanley quickly said. "I know you have a tendency to bend an order or rule to meet a difficult situation, and I appreciate that fact." He gave Saunders a sincere look. "All I want to say is thanks, Chip, for getting me out and saving my life."

Saunders studied his friend’s face and nodded. “I can say I was just doing my job getting you out, but there was more to it than that. I was also concerned about losing you as a close friend.” He looked away struggling on what to say next. When he looked up again at Hanley he spoke with emotion too long held back. "Gil, I do care and I just don't want to lose a good friend again, if I can help it. I just don't! We both lost enough friends in this war."

Hanley gazed at the Sergeant sitting beside him, understanding the pain registered in those eyes. The Lieutenant's expression showed compassion and concern as he tried to say something, but his voice wouldn't work. When Hanley could finally speak again in a steady voice, he said with emphasis to Saunders. “I know, Chip ... we both have. But not this time. For once in this war, NOT this time! We both won a small victory, we're still here today. Don't you see? We are still here!” He reached out with his right hand to take Saunders’s. "I'll say it again, thank you for my life and for being my friend. We do care and that makes all of us a family, Chip, ALL brothers. That is what will get us through to win this war!" He gestured with his right hand again.

Saunders took Hanley’s hand in a warm grasp that expressed more than words could convey. In that moment with hands clasped there was no Officer or NCO, just two men confirming a close bond of friendship. "Your welcome," Saunders finally replied when he too could speak again. He then let go of the lieutenant’s hand and stood up to leave. Saunders chuckled when he noticed Hanley was trying to scratch his left leg with his other hand. “By the way, I’ll look into getting your pants back” he said with a mischievous grin.

Hanley fiddled with his blanket and then laughed. “OK Saunders, you do that. At least with pants, my legs won’t itch so much. This wool blanket is driving me crazy!”

With that reply, Saunders just laughed, waved goodbye, and left the room. He then stuck his head back in the entrance and called to Hanley, "Hey Lieutenant , till you get your pants back, I suggest if you itch too much, just scratch!"

The only response Saunders got was a growled, "smart ass," a pillow sailing over his head, and the sound of laughter, as he ducked.


                                                                         THE END

          This story is dedicated to my sister, my best friend, for her love and support. I thank her for teaching me the importance of values, friendship and honor, and to how we apply them to life as well as war.