LostSoldiers

All Combat! names and indicia are licensed to: ABC entertainment company, and Selmur Productions… I think

COMBAT!
The Missing Soldiers
Copyright, October 21, 2004, Jessica A. Worley

“Trick or treat.”

The mess Sergeant looked up at the soldier, holding out his jeep hat expectantly.
“Heh, what do you want Private?” he coughed, as he shifted his cigar from one side of his mouth to the other.

“What’s it look like I want. Haven’t you ever heard of Halloween? You know, trick or treat, give me somethin’ good to eat…”

The scruffy bearded mess Sergeant shook his head, chuckling. “Sorry buddy, won’t find anything like that in here. Try the Lt. Maybe he’ll give ya somethin’.”

Kirby’s face fell. He hadn’t really expected anything special, but he’d had to try. He was just about to turn away, when someone placed their hand on his shoulder.

“He’s right ya know.” It was Doc. “This is the army, we’re not supposed to have good food.”

Kirby nodded. “Aint that the truth.” The two men walked over to one of the   tables where most of the rest of the squad sat, Kirby replacing his cap, and pulling the sides down to keep his ears warm. It was bitter cold out, and they’d been surprised to find that more of the guys from around the camp hadn’t crowded into the mess tent      around one of the two stoves.

“Well, at least we got a spot in here before it filled up,” Billy said, reading Kirby’s mind.

Littlejohn took a look around at the other empty tables. “I just don’t get it. Where’re everybody else? It’s so windy outside you’d think they’d a been blown in here.”

At Littlejohn’s words, one of the tent flaps opened, admitting some of the harsh icy air, along with Sergeant Saunders, their squad leader.

They watched as the Sergeant hit and rubbed his shoulders, trying to get them warm.

“Gee Sarge, you’re a real mess,” Caje said, taking in the sight of him, and referring to his wet clothes, “what happened to you?”

Doc stood up and quickly poured a cup of the lukewarm coffee the rest of them had been drinking, and handed it to Saunders, who gladly removed his wet gloves, and wrapped his hands around it. “Thanks Doc,” he said, moving to sit next to the others by the wood stove.

“The Lt. and I were talking with a couple of guys from third squad when a jeep drove by and right into a giant mud puddle. If you think I’m a mess, you should see the Lt. He caught the worst of it.”

“Gee wiz,” Billy said, shaking his head. “Well where’s the Lt?”

“I don’t know,” the Sergeant replied, taking another drink of the coffee, “maybe he went to get a dry uniform.”

“Speaking of,” Doc said, again noticing Sarge’s wet clothes.

Sarge shook his head. “I know Doc, but I just got this uniform today after my other one got wrecked. They wouldn’t give me another one if I was walking around naked.”

Caje and Kirby laughed. They knew Saunders was probably right. He’d been through three uniforms in the last week and a half. First he’d tripped and fell down a small embankment, suffering only minor scrapes and bruises, plus a torn uniform, then a few days after that, he was unlucky enough to get into a fight with a Kraut soldier they were taking back as a POW, who’d pulled a hidden piece of glass out of his shirt sleeve, and given the Sergeant another reason to get a new uniform.. Then earlier that morning, they’d all had to trudge through an ice-cold river on patrol, twice, making number three.

“Well you could have mine if you fit into it,” Billy said.

“Mine too Sarge,” Kirby told him. His other one had dried out since that morning’s patrol.

Saunders shook his head though, “Thanks, but I’ll be fine.”

Doc gave him a look as if to say he thought he’d catch his death in wet clothes in that temperature, but settled with saying, “Well at least you should get out of your coat Sarge. Dry out by the fire.”

Sarge nodded, set his cup down for a moment, and removed his soggy coat. He would have liked a cigarette right about now, but knew it was probably soggier than he was.

They’d only been there for another ten minutes when the tent flaps opened again, and the Lt. jogged in, trying to get away from the wind, which blew a few brown leaves in with him. Doc moved to get another cup of coffee, this time for the Lt. but the mess Sergeant was already ahead of them, having been listening to their conversation.

“Thanks,” Hanley told him, moving to sit with the others, and warm up by the fire.

“Hey Lt,” Littlejohn said, “how come we’re the only ones in here? Aren’t the other guys cold?”

Hanley shook his head. “No, they’ve got heaters in their tents.”

Kirby’s mouth dropped open. “What? Where’d they get the other stoves from?”

“Supply truck came in this morning. They grabbed them all up before the driver knew what was happening to his load.”

“Well if that doesn’t tear it,” Kirby said angrily. Doc and Caje nodded in agreement.

“Don’t get your shorts all bunched up Kirby,” Saunders said, who was starting to turn slightly blue. “It’s not the Lt’s fault.”

“Well I know that Sarge. I was only sayin-”

“I know what you were saying, and I’m saying drop it.”

Hanley was looking at his soaked Sergeant now. He hadn’t realized he was still wearing the wet clothes. “If you want you can stay here tonight,” Hanley told them, before rounding on the Sergeant. “Saunders, why haven’t you gotten dry clothes?”

Saunders looked over at his buddy. He would have thought it would have been obvious, but didn’t say so. “Can’t Lt. They told me this morning, I’d have to wait awhile for another one.”

“Well I outrank Sergeant Grabiel, and I’m ordering you, to go and get a dry uniform. Tell him he can have the other one back if he wants.”

Saunders nodded. “Yes sir… and thank you.”

Hanley smiled and nodded. If they had to be cold, there was nothing much he could do about that, except tell them they could have a fire, but as for being wet and cold, he wasn’t going to have it. Especially on a night like this, he thought to himself.

The Sergeant stood and grabbed his jacket, before moving back to the tent flap, and making a mad dash for the other side of the compound.

“Have the other one back. Who does he think he is?” Grabiel muttered under his breath as the other Sergeant buttoned up his new shirt, and replaced his old soggy coat with a new, and thankfully, dry one.

“He thinks he’s the Lt,” Saunders replied, smiling, thankful that it was true, because if it wasn’t, he was sure he’d still be sitting there, freezing.

“Yeah, well you just keep that one you’re wearin’ dry, and in one piece and you’ll make my whole year! In fact Saunders, if I didn’t see you in here beggin’ for a new uniform for another month or so, I’d have a Merry Christmas too!”

“Well, so much for Halloween,” Saunders said, pulling on his own dry jeep cap. He knew Grabiel wasn’t happy, being woken up to get yet another uniform for him, but he was thankful for it anyway.

“Sorry, and thanks,” Saunders said as he stepped out the door, on his way back to their new sleeping quarters in the mess tent.

“Yeah, yeah,” Grabiel muttered under his breath again, as he flipped the light off, and the door swung shut behind him.

Saunders looked up at the night sky. It was nearly cloudless, and all of the stars shone brilliantly. They looked like sparkling crystals, just hanging there, far above their heads.

The wind picked up again, and he pulled his coat collar up higher around his neck. If there had been clouds, he was sure it would have snowed, it was so cold.

Saunders heard an, “Oomph!” followed by a soft thud somewhere behind him, and he spun around to take a look. He squinted through the darkness, and could just make out the form of someone, struggling to get up off the ground.

“Grabiel?” he asked, taking a step forward. As he got closer he saw that it was the other Sergeant. He stooped down to help him up, but Grabiel pushed him away.

“See what you did Saunders?” he asked. “Got me out of bed just to slip in the mud.”

He didn’t say anything, and tried to help Grabiel up again, but both men stopped, as another sound caught their ears.

They were silent for a moment as the wind whistled, and Saunders strained to see where the sound had come from.

“What was that?” Grabiel asked, looking around as well.

Saunders shook his head. It may well have been another GI slipping in the mud and hitting the ground somewhere off in the distance, but he couldn’t be sure.

“I don’t know,” he said. He pulled Grabiel to his feet without a fight, and looked around again. Without a word, the two men slowly set off in the direction they had thought the sound had come from.

“Got a weapon on you Sergeant?” Saunders asked.

Grabiel shook his head. “No, don’t you?”

“Un uh.”

They stopped in the wind for another few seconds to look around, and saw nothing.

“Probably just something the wind blew over Saunders.”

“Yeah, and maybe it wasn’t.”

“Well you’re not going out there without a weapon are you?” Grabiel asked, stopping in his tracks.

Saunders stopped too, and turned to look at him. “No, I’m going to tell one of the sentry’s on duty about it, so they can keep a look out, and then I’m going back to the mess tent so I can go to bed.”

“Yeah, bed. I was in bed once upon a time,” Grabiel muttered. “Well, come on then, hurry it up so I can get back there.” Saunders nodded, and they set off again towards the edge of camp to find a sentry, Grabiel saying, “You wouldn’t believe the dame I was dreamin’ about before some rude Sergeant woke me up.”

“Halt! Who’s there?”

“Sergeants Saunders and Grabiel,” Saunders told the spooked Private standing guard.

The Private lifted his gun, and allowed the two Sergeants to step closer. He was a little pale, and Saunders thought he looked colder than he had been before he’d gotten dry clothes.

“Oh, hi Sergeant, Sergeant,” the Private said, his teeth chattering. “I thought you might’ve been Davis coming back.”

“Coming back?” Saunders asked, turning his head a little.

“Y-yes sir,” the Private said. “He thought he heard something a while ago, and went off to take a look.”

“Well that makes three of us then,” Grabiel said, rubbing his arms to keep himself warm as well.

Saunders shook his head. “Well which way did he go?”

“That way sir,” the Private pointed out away from camp.

Saunders looked out into the darkness, and then back at the Private and over at Grabiel. “It didn’t sound that loud from where we were. Are you sure he went that way?”

“Yes sir.”

“Alright,” the Sergeant said after a moments thought, “Give me your extra weapon.”

“Sir?” the Private asked.

Saunders looked over at him. “Your extra weapon Private,” he said again, holding out his hand. Ever since about a week ago, Lt. Hanley had ordered extra weapons to be brought on sentry duty. A few of the guards had been complaining of guns jamming when they went to shoot at something, and Hanley wanted to make sure that wouldn’t happen when there was a need for real shots to be fired.

“Oh, yes sir,” the Private said. He moved to a box sitting in a pit in the ground a few feet away, and kicked it open. Saunders didn’t blame him. He looked too frozen to bend over and do it, though the extra movement might have warmed him up a little. The Private pulled a Carbine, and M1, and extra clips from within the box, and handed one to Saunders, and one to Grabiel.

“What’s this for?” Grabiel asked.

The Private looked confused. “So you can go find Davis,” he said.

Saunders looked over at Grabiel. He wasn’t an infantryman, just a supply Sergeant.

Grabiel sighed, obviously too tired to explain to the young Private who he was. He took the gun, and gave Saunders a look to keep quiet. Sarge just chuckled and shook his head though.

“Shouldn’t be gone too long,” he said, removing his warm jeep cap. Immediately the wind swept through his hair, messing it up considerably more than it had already been. “Just going to go see if Davis needs a hand,” he paused for a second, before saying, “Here Private,” and handing the sentry his hat.

The Private looked at him uncertainly, as if asking what it was for.

“Listen,” Saunders said, “I get to go back to a stove in a tent in a few minutes. You’ve still got a while on duty. Just put it on, and remember to bring your own to wear under your helmet next time.”

The young sentry took the hat, placing it on his own head, before replacing his helmet. “Thanks sir.”

Saunders shook his head. “And quit calling me sir. I’m a Sergeant, not a General.”

He walked forward, followed slowly by Grabiel, before the Private called after them, “Do you have the password?”

Saunders nodded, and over the wind shouted back, “Yeah!”

“It was a night just like tonight. The wind was a howlin’ and the shutters on my house kept bangin’ open and closed in the wind.”

The rest of the squad was sitting back and listening to the medic as he told his story. Caje slipped another piece of wood into the stove, and Kirby dealt himself out another hand of Solitaire, cursing quietly as he realized he’d given himself one row too many because he’d been listening to Doc.

“It was All Hallows Eve, and we’d already gotten back from our trick-or-treating, Doc continued. “Mama said Henry and I could stay the night at our friends house, ‘cause she an dad were going to a party at our aunts house over in Greenville. So I was home all alone for a couple of hours before I was gonna go over to Danny’s.
Caje smirked at the look on Billy’s face. He seemed to be hanging on every word Doc said. Almost like he was entranced.

“I was only about twelve, and I thought it’d be fun havin’ the house all to myself for a while. Just me and my pillowcase full of candy, but boy, was I ever wrong.” Doc paused, for a minute, as if he weren’t going to finish the story.

Billy watched him, waiting for the rest, but when it didn’t come, he asked, “Why not? What happened Doc?”

The medic looked over at him, and tried to keep a straight face.

“Well,” the medic said quietly in his calming southern accent, “It was about eight and I’d eaten my way through a couple of pounds of that candy when the front door burst open and Danny came running in.” Doc paused again, and Caje had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. It looked like Billy was on tinter-hooks waiting to hear what happened next.

“I thought it was a burglar breaking in or something at first, because of the noise, but then I heard Danny shouting my name, so I ran into the entryway to see what was the matter. He was red in the face and panting like he’d run a couple miles.”

“What was wrong?” Billy asked quietly.

“That’s what I asked,” Doc said, “and he could barely manage to get out that he couldn’t find my brother and Gary. Gary was Danny’s little brother. He said he’d pulled a prank on them and they ran screamin’ their heads off outta the house and into the patch of woods that their back yard opened up to. So I grabbed my jacket and we ran next door and got our other friend Nathan. His parents were at the party too. See, we were gonna walk to Danny’s together a little later, but we needed his help findin’ ‘em so, he came with us early.

“We ran a couple blocks over to Danny’s house, and went inside just to see if they’d come back, but they didn’t, so the three of us grabbed some flash lights and headed out back. See, Danny’s house was right on the edge of town, and there was a big forest that ran along one part of town. The train tracks ran through it a ways behind their house, and sometimes we went there just to mess around and stuff, so we figured that’s where they must’a went.” Doc stopped, and put on a fake expression, as if he were remembering something terrible.

Billy leaned forward, and even Kirby had looked up from his game of cards to watch Doc. Hanley’s eyes were closed, but he was listening all the same. Doc looked around after another moment, and noticed the mess Sergeant had left.

“Well, come on Doc, what happened?” Littlejohn asked, watching him.

Doc looked over, and shook his head. “I’m, I’m not sure I oughtta tell you. It, it was pretty bad Littlejohn. I mean, I’d never seen anything like it.”

Caje wasn’t smiling anymore. He wasn’t sure if Doc was joking or not. Doc was smiling on the inside though, and fighting himself to not fall over laughing.

“You have to tell us now,” Billy said.

Doc gave another look around, making Billy and Kirby do the same, and then he leaned in further and lowered his voice a little. When he spoke again, softer, he was pleased to see the Lt. lean over a little from his chair by the stove, out of the corner of his eye.

“Well like I said: it was terrible…somethin’ I’ll never forget.   When we got down there and started lookin’ around with our flashlights, we found candy scattered all over the place. We started callin out their names, and after a couple of minutes, Nathan shouted over to Danny and me. He’d found something.” Doc paused for effect again, and not wanting to blow his chance, continued on. “It was one of Gary’s shoes. We walked on a bit further down the rail road tracks, and that was when I found-” Doc stopped. He had to so he wouldn’t burst out laughing. He closed his eyes and looked at the table to hide his smile, and the others mistook it for sorrow of some sort.

“What?” Kirby asked.

The medic was finally able to look up, and as he did so, he said, “A bloody knife.” He watched as Billy and Littlejohn’s eyes got wider, and almost couldn’t control himself. He suppressed the laughter one last time however, and continued on, in barely more than a whisper. “The three of us looked at each other and Danny picked up the knife. It was eerie the way the flashlights gleamed off of it as we looked at it. The blood was still wet, and we wondered whose blood it was. See, there were a lot of hobos that passed through on the trains, looking for work and all. Some of ‘em got off and stayed in the woods a while until another train came through town and they could sneak back on at the depot.

“I was just about to tell them that maybe it was one of theirs, when Danny raised his other hand and pointed into a spot in the woods. When we shined our flashlights on him, he got real pale… kind’ a like he’d seen a ghost or somethin’. Nathan asked him what he was pointing at, and he only said, “They’re in there.” He was speaking so quietly now that he thought Lt. Hanley might fall of his chair if he leaned over toward their table any closer.

“Nathan asked how he knew, and he said, “BECAUSE I DID IT!!!!!” Doc shouted the last bit, and they all jumped. Kirby’s cards scattered all over the place because when he’d jumped his arm hit them, and Billy fell backwards into Littlejohn. Hanley, already so far to one side of his chair, started to tip over, and Caje caught him just before he did. It took them all a moment to realize that the tears in Doc’s eyes were ones of laughter and not of grief, but once they did, most of them laughed, realizing they’d been had.

“Geeze Doc! What’d you have to do that for!?” Billy asked, placing his hat back on his head, which had fallen off.

“Just to scare kids like you,” Kirby said, recollecting his cards, as he laughed.

Caje shook his head. “It looked like you jumped a foot off your seat Kirby,” he told him. “I think Doc scared you more than Billy.”

“Oh stuff it,” Kirby said, the smile fading from his face somewhat. Doc clutched a stitch in his side. He’d been working on that story for a week, just in anticipation of a moment like this. He’d been waiting for the perfect time to tell it too, and was glad he’d found it.

“That was one of the best ghost stories I’ve ever heard,” Littlejohn said.

“What’re you talkin’ about Littlejohn?” Billy asked. “There were no ghosts in that story.”

“So what? It was still a scary story wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t make it a ghost story.”

“Well I know that, but that’s what they’re called.”

Hanley smiled. He had to agree with Littlejohn that Doc was a good storyteller. He must have been waiting for a long time to let that one go, because he was still laughing.

“Sorry guys,” Doc finally said.

“No you’re not,” said Littlejohn, shaking his head.

“Yeah, you’re just sorry Sarge wasn’t here to scare too, only he wouldn’t’a scared so easy as all of you did,” Kirby put in.

“Ah what’re yeh talkin’ about Kirby?” Caje asked again. “None of us scattered your cards all over the place.”

Everybody but Kirby and Lt. Hanley started laughing again. Kirby grumbled something about knowing it was just a trick and that he didn’t want to spoil it for Doc, and the Lt. looked down at his watch. He’d been so busy listening to the Medic’s story that he had almost forgotten that Saunders had gone out to get a new uniform. That had been nearly a half hour ago.
“Hey, what’s the matter Lt?” Caje asked, seeing the look on his face.

“Saunders isn’t back yet,” he told them. “It doesn’t take that long to get a new uniform and change.”

“Maybe he’s out there cookin’ up a story of his own,” Littlejohn said, still chuckling at the zinger Caje had pulled on Kirby.

“No,” Hanley said, standing up, “I don’t think so.” He picked up the gun leaning against the table on the other side of the woodstove. “I’m going to go take a look. Kirby, you're on me.”

Kirby nodded and stood up, reaching down below the table for his helmet and gun. He didn’t see where Sarge could have wandered off to. It wasn’t hard to get lost in camp, and he didn’t think the sentry’s would have missed any Germans trying to sneak in, but all the same, it was good to carry your weapon.

“Hey Caje,” Kirby said. “Lend me your Garand will ya? I don’t want to lug this heavy thing around out there.” Kirby held up his BAR, and Caje nodded. He knew the rifle was heavy, and held out his Garand and a couple of extra clips to his friend.

“Just bring it back in one piece will ya?” Caje said.

Kirby took it and said, “Yeah, yeah,” as he followed the Lt. out into the cold.

* * *

“Davis!”

“Shhh!”

Sergeant Grabiel fell silent at Saunders’ angry hushing noise. The noncombatant hadn’t shouted the name or anything, but Saunders knew even that was enough to draw the attention of any nearby enemy.

“Just stay quiet.”

Grabiel glared through the darkness at the other Sergeant. He didn’t outrank him. Who did he think he was calling the shots?

“Listen Saunders. How are we ever going to find him if we can’t find him? Huh? Did you ever think about that?” Grabiel stood up straighter and put one of his hands on his hips.

Saunders stopped, and turned around to look at him, incredulous.

“No, I mean it Sergeant. He might already be back there by now, and we’re out here freezing our tails off.”

Sarge shook his head in disbelief. How dense could one man be?

“Just shut up like I told you or get back to camp. I don’t want to be out here any more than you do, but that kid could be out here lost or something, and he picked a bad night to get that way. Temperature will probably drop below zero before morning.”

“All the more reason to get back there quicker,” Grabiel said quietly, still a little in awe of how quickly the other man’s demeanor had changed. He remained silent for a few minutes as they walked along. Grabiel would have never guessed Saunders to be like this. The only time ever saw the man was when he needed something from the supply tent or trucks. Like new uniforms…

A twig snapped somewhere in the distance, and Saunders stopped abruptly, crouching down. Grabiel nearly walked into him, but before he did, Sarge reached up and grabbed his jacket, pulling him down to the ground.

“What’s going on?” Grabiel asked, searching the darkness for any sign of what had made Saunders stop.

Sarge didn’t respond though. He was too busy scanning the darkness himself, and trying to listen for any more noises over the howling wind and rustling leaves.

“Well?” Grabiel asked again a minute later, when he still hadn’t gotten an answer.

There was still no response from the other Sergeant, which made Grabiel even angrier. Thinks he’s so high and mighty he doesn’t have to answer me, he thought to himself. He looked over to where Saunders had been crouching a minute before to give him hell, but he was no longer there.

He looked around in all directions, in hopes Saunders had just moved around behind him, but found no sign of the other man.

“Saunders?” he called in a whisper. “Saunders?!” he tried a little louder. No answer. Where did he go? Grabiel wondered quietly. The wind kicked up a mess of leaves around the supply Sergeant, and he was almost knocked over with the force of it. “Saunders!” he shouted one more time, still getting no response.

“Damn it Sergeant,” he said to himself, his adrenaline pumping. “Drag me out here to find a lost kid, and leave me out here alone to get lost myself… just see how many new uniforms you get from me after this.”

Saunders moved stealthily along, crawling over fallen trees, and through bushes. They were a ways from the road that lead into camp, and he wondered why Grabiel wasn’t griping about it. Keeping his eyes on the dark forest in front of him, he whispered back to the other Sergeant, “Ok back there?”

There was no response, and Sarge stopped crawling. He took a look behind him, and then to his left and right. Where had he gone to? He’d told Grabiel to keep up… hadn’t he heard him?

“Damn it Grabiel,” he said to himself quietly, “where the hell did you get off to now?” He shook his head angrily, and then continued on. He was getting close to where the sound of the cracking branch had originated. After he found out what, or who, had made the noise, he could go back and retrieve the supply man… that is, if he wasn’t already back at the Command Post. Not like the camp boundary wasn’t just a few hundred yards behind them.

* * *

“Not in our tent Lt,” Kirby said, giving him his report.

Hanley shook his head quietly. “They weren’t in the supply building either.”

“They Lt?”

“Yes, they. Grabiel wasn’t in there, and he wasn’t in his tent. I checked because I thought he might have given Saunders a hard time about the new uniform. His old one was there on the counter in the supply building though…” Hanley trailed away, thinking about where they could have gone to.

“Well hey, maybe they got caught up talking to somebody else, Lt.” Kirby knew Hanley didn’t think so by the doubtful look on his face however.

“Kirby, would you be out here on a night like tonight talking to somebody?”

Kirby shook his head. “No sir. You wouldn’t catch me out here dead Lt. It’s too cold. Not unless I had to pull guard duty or something…” Kirby trailed away at the thought of being sentenced to guard duty.

Hanley nodded. “The guards.”

“Lt?”

“Maybe they’ve seen them. The nearest ones are over there.” Hanley pointed in the darkness, and Kirby’s face fell a little at the prospect of having to be out in the cold even longer.

“What would the Sarge be doin’ over there Lt?”

“I don’t know. That’s why we’re going to go find out.”

Kirby sighed and hugged himself a little tighter to keep warm. This was turning out to be some Halloween.

“Stop! Who’s there?”

“Easy Private, it’s Lt. Hanley.” Hanley could hear the sentry’s sigh of relief, even over the wind.

“Lt. what’re you doing out here on a night like tonight?”

It was Kirby who answered for him. “Wishin’ I was some place warm and cozy instead of out here in the wind.”

Hanley ignored him. The guard looked colder than Kirby, and looked as if he wanted to say, you’re tellin’ me.

“We’re trying to find Sergeant Saunders and possibly Grabiel,” Hanley told him.

“Oh,” the Private said. He rubbed his arms for warmth and looked out past the boundaries of camp. “They went out to look for Davis sir, just about twenty minutes ago.”

“Davis?” Hanley asked, looking around, and for the first time, realizing that the other guard wasn’t there on duty.

“Yes sir. He thought he heard a noise and went out to take a look. The two Sergeants came over because they’d heard the noise, and when I told ‘em about Davis, they took two weapons and said they’d be back in a few minutes.”

“And they haven’t come back in?” Hanley asked, just to be sure.

The guard shook his head. “Not this way sir.”

“Alright.” Hanley nodded, and then turned to Kirby. “Kirby, go back and get Caje and Doc. Tell Doc to bring his bag, just in case.”

Kirby grumbled something that the Lt. didn’t hear, and then set off back across the compound towards the mess tent. The warm, mess tent, Kirby reminded himself, picking up his pace a little in the hopes he might have an extra minute to warm up before they had to go back out to look again.

The wind blew furiously, and suddenly Saunders couldn’t see what was in front of him, because he was confronted with a near solid wall of leaves.

Damn it’s cold, he thought to himself as he crouched down for a second to let the leaves pass by. They did, and he stood again when he was sure he was alone.

He walked on a little further, and then stopped. The noise had come from right around here, and yet, there was nothing there at all. Nothing but trees and bushes. Not even some frightened animal.

He shook his head in disgust as more leaves blew his way. Where in the hell was the kid, and while he was thinking about it again, where was Grabiel?

Suddenly there was a moan from somewhere in front of him. He stopped dead in his tracks, and dropped to the ground, gun aimed. There was another moan, and a distinct, “Shhh!” and then all was silent again except for the wind.

Saunders crawled forward, and peered around a large shrub. It was too dark to tell who they were, but he had an idea about at least one of the two men lying there on the ground. The Sergeant stood, and found himself face to face with an M1 barrel.

“Easy Davis,” Saunders said softly, “I’m out here lookin’ for you.”

The Private’s eyes drifted down to the Sergeant’s stripes on Saunders’ jacket, and he let out the breath he’d been holding.

“Yes sir. I found a wounded soldier sir. We’ve got to get him back.”

Saunders looked down at the other dark figure on the hard, nearly frozen ground, and kneeled down to take a look.

“Alright, help me get him up.” Davis did as he was told, and together they lifted him off the ground.

“Here,” Saunders said, “I’ll carry him. You keep that gun up. And watch out for Sergeant Grabiel… he’s out here somewhere too.”

“Yes sir,” Davis said, letting go of the wounded man’s legs so Saunders could pick him up.

They began their slow walk back towards the Command Post, and Saunders wondered what unit this soldier had come from.

The sentry watched as the other Private returned with two men from his squad, and then as the four of them walked out into the woods. Silently he wondered to himself how many other soldiers would wander out there looking for one another, before somebody actually got found. He simply shook his head however, and returned to his pacing back and fourth in front of the entrance.

“Hey Kirby.”

Kirby jumped as Caje put his hand on his shoulder, and Caje began to laugh.

“What’re you so jumpy for?” Caje asked him.

Kirby glared daggers at him, and said, “What do you want?”

Caje shook his head. “I was just going to point out how this is how Doc’s story started out.”

“What’re ya’ talkin’ about?”

“No, really,” Caje said, going on, “You were trick-or-treating in the mess tent. Then the Sarge and Grabiel got lost, and we were in the mess tent when you came busting in lookin’ for us. Now we’re out here, in the woods-”

Kirby cut him off. “This whole country’s made of woods. So what’s your point?”

Doc laughed to himself behind the two of them. He was glad he’d made an impression on them both.

“Yeah, well you two just leave me alone… both of ya!” he added, almost as an afterthought.

“Alright, cut the chatter back there,” Hanley told them. “We’re supposed to find them, they’re not supposed to find us.”

Kirby gave one last glare at the Cajun for making him jump, and then turned back around to watch where he was going.

It wasn’t long before they spotted a figure moving towards them however. The four men stopped, and so did the figure.

“Who goes there?” a shaky voice called from in front of them.

“Grabiel?” Hanley shouted. “It’s Lt. Hanley!”

Three seconds hadn’t passed when Grabiel was at their side.

“Oh Lt, am I glad to see you.”

Hanley nodded. “Where’s Saunders?”

“Somewhere out there,” he told him, motioning behind him. “I don’t know. We stopped for a second because he heard something or something… I don’t know, and when I turned around to give him hell for not tellin’ me what, he was gone!”

“Alright, you come with us for the time being.”

“We’re not going back?” Grabiel asked uncertainly.

“No Sergeant, we’re not going back.”

Grabiel sighed and shook his head, before he fell into line behind the tall dark haired soldier wearing a beret, and in front of the medic.

“Sir! There’s someone coming!”

“Get down!” the Sergeant ordered, sinking to his knees the best he could with the injured man in his arms.

They watched in the darkness as a group of people neared, and then finally, Saunders recognized Kirby’s voice saying, “Why the hell does it have to be so cold on Halloween?”

Saunders straightened up, and said, “Lt!”

Hanley swung around, gun aimed out of habit, and finally lowered it, realizing who it was.

“Sergeant?”

“Yes sir. Doc-” before Saunders could finish his sentence though, Doc was there, looking over the wounded soldier.

* * *

“Hey! Will ya look at that! The ground froze! I told ya it was cold out!”

“Kirby, we didn’t need you to tell us it was cold out, we were out in it last night, remember?” Littlejohn asked him.

“No you weren’t. You and Billy were back in that nice warm tent while we were out in it.”

Littlejohn shook his head. “Lt. put us on guard duty last night after you got back.”

“Ain't that sad,” Sergeant Grabiel said as he passed by.

Kirby scowled at him, and wondered why he was giving them such a hard time. Just as Grabiel was almost out of sight, Kirby let out a whoop of laughter as the Sergeant sank down, and they heard a string of fluent curses escape his mouth.

Caje and Littlejohn looked over at him too. The Sergeant was knee deep in mud and icy water. He hadn’t seen that the next step he’d take would be onto a thin layer of ice covering a giant mud puddle.

“Well ain't that sad!” Kirby shouted before he doubled up laughing again.

“Ought to have you court marshaled,” Grabiel muttered under his breath at the laughing men in the distance behind him.

“Need a hand?” Before Grabiel could look up, someone had him under the arm and was pulling him up and out of his predicament.

He looked over at Saunders. “Thanks.”

Saunders nodded, then looked him up and down. “Looks like you need a dry uniform Sergeant. Better go and get one before you freeze to death,” then he walked off towards his laughing men, who figured out what Sarge must have said, and were almost to the point of rolling around on the ground.

“Alright,” Saunders said, smiling, “that’s enough now. He’s still the one in charge of what supplies come our way.”

Kirby reached up and wiped a tear of laughter from his eye, and then tried to stand up straight. He’d been hanging onto Caje’s neck for support so he wouldn’t fall over.

“Well Sarge?” Littlejohn asked, “How is he? Private Swanson I mean.”

“Doc says he’s ok. He’s over with him in the med tent right now. The bullet missed all the important stuff inside anyhow.”

“Well that’s good,” Caje said. “Did you ever figure out what unit he was with?”

Saunders nodded. “He’s with Love Company, 207th. Lt. called Swanson’s CO last night. He’s driving over this morning to come and get him.”

Just then Doc and Billy walked up on their smiling buddies. “Hey Kirby,” Doc said, pulling something from within his coat.

“Yeah?”

“Happy Halloween.”

Kirby looked down at the small boot Doc was holding out to him, dirty, and with a mess of a red sticky substance on it. “Doc, is that?”

“Yep Kirby, just like Gary’s.”

“Why can’t you just leave me alone? Huh?” Kirby turned and walked off towards their own tent, grumbling all the way about missing cards from his deck, and bloody knives and lost shoes.

“What’s that all about?” Saunders asked, looking around at the again laughing men.

“Oh nothing Sarge,” Doc said. “I guess he just doesn’t like ketchup.” Doc swiped a bit of the red substance off of the boot with his finger before licking it, and the sounds of the squad’s laughter floated through the crisp camp air once more.

The End

Happy Halloween!!!