| The characters of "Combat!" are the property of ABC. Copyright 2002 by Figment Mission Conclusion Saunders watched Miles leave, then turned to Emile. “We have to move fast,” he explained. “When Miles makes his report, shells will be pounding your town within minutes. We probably have three hours at the most. Do your people know where the children are being held?” “Oui, Monsieur,” Emile nodded. “There are three of us with weapons. We will go with you. Come.” The Frenchman quickly disappeared behind the cupboard, followed by Saunders and the two Frenchmen who carried the old shotguns. When they were once again in the cobbler’s shop, Saunders and Emile moved to the windows to check the street outside. The German soldiers who had shared a smoke on the corner earlier that evening were gone. The town looked deserted and quiet. Saunders was well aware of how quickly that situation could change. The four men moved through the back door of the shop into the narrow alley, and slipped from the back of the alley into a small garden or courtyard with high, stone walls. They left the yard through a gate that opened to the only other street the village boasted. Watching carefully for any sign of the enemy, they slowly made their way down the dark street until voices sent them to the cover of a storefront doorway. Saunders motioned for the others to stay put while he moved away from the door in a crouch. He soon saw three German soldiers lounging leisurely at the door of a small stone building. They were smoking and talking, and one of them had produced a bottle of wine and was joyously teasing his fellow sentries with it, trying to make them beg for it. Saunders crept back to the Frenchmen. “There’s three sentries on the door, but they’re not too concerned about the children escaping,” he explained. “We may be able to take them without too much noise.” Saunders outlined his plan to Emile, who turned and translated to his friends. One of them would take a bottle, which they found in the gutter, and pretend to stagger past the guards as if he was drunk. The others would position themselves to jump the sentries when they were distracted. “I will get their attention,” Emile stated as he picked up the bottle from the ground. “Okay,” Saunders patted his shoulder. “Be careful.” Emile moved to the center of the street and started singing loudly and terribly off-key, staggering as he neared the house where the German soldiers were stationed. Saunders and the two Frenchmen moved across the street and crept as close as possible to the house, without being seen. Daylight was beginning to break around them and the shadows seemed to deepen as the soft light began to flood the town. The guards, hearing Emile’s boisterous chorus, immediately brought their weapons to bear on him as two of them approached the seemingly intoxicated Frenchman. Emile reeled and waved the bottle high in the air as the Germans came nearer. Saunders crept closer to the guard near the door of the house while the sentry’s attention was focused on the wild dance in the street. He was able to sneak up to within ten feet of the soldier without being noticed. Emile suddenly produced a knife and stabbed one of the Germans trying to get a grip on his flailing arms. The other Frenchmen rushed to Emile’s side and wrestled the other guard to the cobblestone street, pounding him until he moved no more. At the same time, Saunders lunged for the sentry he was closest to, just as he raised his rifle to fire at the struggling men in the street. Saunders brought his handgun down hard at the base of the Kraut’s neck, below his helmet. He grunted and his hand convulsed, pulling the trigger. The shot missed everyone, but raised an immediate alarm. They could hear shouts and the noise of running feet coming in their direction. “Get the kids out!” Saunders shouted as he dragged the German he’d hit out of the way. One of the Frenchmen ran to the house and quickly pulled the four children into the street. “Get them outta here!” Saunders yelled. “I’ll try to lead ‘em off.” “I will stay with you,” Emile said as he motioned the others to take the children back the way they had come. Within seconds the street was filled with Germans. Saunders and Emile hid behind a low wall near the small brick building. The sergeant reached inside his jacket and produced his last grenade. Pulling the pin he waited until several Germans had gathered in front of the house where the children had been. He launched the grenade high over his head and directly into the middle of the confused group of soldiers. The explosion was deafening, and several German soldiers fell screaming, then unmoving. Saunders rose to his knees and fired a couple rounds at the steady stream of soldiers now arriving at the house and seeking cover. Emile was firing his old hunting rifle as fast as he could reload. “This is no good!” Saunders shouted over the din. “We gotta move!” He pointed to an alley a few feet to their right and Emile got up to a crouch and bolted for the opening with Saunders right behind him. Suddenly Emile fell and the sergeant reached a hand under his arm and pulled him back to his feet, practically dragging him into the alley. Once in the shadows the two men dropped to the ground, Saunders turned back towards the street to see if any of the Germans were rushing them. Apparently none were quite that brave, but the bullets they fired from their hidden positions bit into the bricks and stones around the entrance to the alley, sending mortar chips and debris flying all directions. Back with Emile Saunders asked, “How bad ya hit?” “It is not too bad, Sergent,” Emile assured him. “But I cannot travel. The bullet went through my leg just above the ankle. Keep going and I will hold them here.” “No way,” Saunders stated. “We both go or we both stay. Now come on.” Saunders pulled the Frenchman’s arm across his shoulders and lifted him back to his feet. They stumbled to the opposite end of the alley and came to a canal that flowed past the village. Knowing the Germans would be rushing the alley any minute now, Saunders looked around for the best cover he could find. There seemed to be precious little cover of any kind along the banks of the canal. “Where does this lead?” He asked Emile, pointing to the channel. “Down to the river about half a mile away,” Emile responded. “Can you swim?” Saunders asked. “Yes,” Emile smiled as Saunders pushed him into the canal and followed, the two of them quickly swimming between a couple fishing boats anchored against the stone pier running the length of the village. They stopped there in the shadows of the boats trying to catch their breaths just as the first Germans emerged from the alley searching frantically for the enemy infiltrators. The sun had risen by now and there would be very few areas for the sergeant and his French ally to hide. Moving as quietly as they could through the water, sometimes swimming beneath the surface, the two desperate men soon reached the edge of the village without being seen. Emile was growing weak and was having trouble keeping up. Saunders told him to hold onto his jacket and he would help him along. It was a struggle for both men to move this way and soon they were both winded and needing to rest. An old grinding mill dipped its large paddle wheel into the side of the stream and Saunders pulled Emile between the wheel and the building shoving him against a brace that held the monstrous wheel in place. They were able to rest here and catch their breaths as they watched for enemy intrusion. Suddenly the air was rent with the whistle and subsequent explosion of an American shell landing in the edge of the village far too close to them for comfort. “It’s started,” Saunders panted. “We gotta get outta here.” “I hope the children made it,” Emile’s eyes were glassy and seemed to be getting unfocused. “I’m sure they did,” Saunders patted the Frenchman’s shoulder. “Let’s just get ourselves out now,” he encouraged as he drew Emile’s arm across his neck and started off through the shallow water close to the building. “No,” Emile stopped him and sank back against the large wooden brace. “I cannot make it, Sergent. You go. Save yourself. You have done all you can do.” “I told you,” Saunders glared at the weakened man. “We both go or we both stay.” “You are a fool, Monsieur,” Emile gasped. “But I am glad of it.” Saunders smiled as he gently pulled the man’s arm around his shoulders once more. Suddenly a shell hit the old mill and stones, wood, and debris rained down on the struggling men. * * * “Red Rook!” Hanley shouted into the SR536 he held to his ear. “Bring your men up on the left flank. Get these guys off us! Out!” “Roger. Out.” Came the faint reply. The platoon had run into a double machine gun nest and First Squad and Third Squad had been pinned down near the bottom of a sharp hill. Rowe’s Fourth Squad had been spread out to the left and seemed to be the only one’s able to make a move on the raging artillery showering a deadly hail of bullets on the beleaguered Americans. Second Squad had spread out to the right, but they were unable to flank the enemy position from where they were. They were also unable to fall back in order to gain a better position. It wasn’t long before a double explosion silenced the chattering guns. After a few rounds of small arms fire, the smoky air became still and quiet. “All clear!” Rowe shouted from the position of the Kraut machine guns. Hanley stood and motioned the rest of the platoon forward. He was furious. Precious time had been wasted during the altercation and they were still at least fifteen minutes from Vebray. They should have been there by now. The shelling was subsiding. “Okay,” the lieutenant turned to his sergeants as they gathered for instructions. “spread out. We’ll hit the village from three sides. When you get in start flushing the place. If you get pinned down, wait for assistance. We’ll cover each other. Got it?” “Yes, sir,” the non-coms echoed each other and headed back to their individual squads. Hanley turned to Doc, “How many’d we lose?” he asked. “Two,” Doc informed him. “Wilkins from Second Squad and Barker from Rowe’s men. Caje took a flesh wound to his right arm, but he’s okay, Lieutenant.” Hanley accepted the dog tags Doc handed him and slipped them into his jacket pocket. Shaking his head, he turned just as Miles trotted up to him. “Lieutenant, we’ve run across the people from that village. They had left their caves and were heading in our direction. There is an English lady with them. She wants to talk to you, sir.” Miles explained. “We don’t have time for chit-chat, Miles,” Hanley spoke curtly. “What does she want?” “Well, it seems that her husband is the Frenchman I told you about, Emile. She says that the guy took Saunders and two of the other Frenchmen back into the village before daybreak this morning. The two Frenchmen returned with the children that were being held hostage, but Emile and Saunders didn’t come back, Lieutenant.” Miles told him. “Bring her here,” Hanley ordered. Almost immediately a middle-aged lady with salt and pepper hair and green eyes stood before the tall Lieutenant. She held herself aristocratically, and gave the air of one not to be trifled with, but her smile melted any ice that her demeanor portrayed. “I’m afraid for my husband, Lieutenant,” she began earnestly. “He and the brave sergeant were going to lead the Germans away from the children so they could get out of the village. The men who brought the children back said there was a lot of firing and an explosion. The two of them were still in there when the bombs came down. Please, Lieutenant, you must find them.” There were tears streaking down her cheeks and she wrung her hands hopelessly. Hanley laid a hand on her arm to comfort her. “If they’re still in there, we’ll find them,” he assured her. “Now you must get your people back to the south of us and out of the way. Germans may be headed in this direction, fleeing the barrage.” “Yes, I understand,” the woman smiled slightly and turned to rejoin her people. The Americans moved out more cautiously now towards the village only about half a mile up the road. Miles and Evans led their squads up either side of the road with Lt. Hanley walking between Littlejohn and Kirby. Rowe had his squad spread through the woods on the right side of the road, while Sgt. McDonald had his squad covering the woods to the left. They moved forward, a formidable force, spoiling for a fight after their first encounter. They ran into few Germans before they reached the village and those few were more willing to surrender than to fight. Part of McDonald’s squad was left to watch the prisoners while the rest of them approached the seemingly quiet village of Vebray. * * * Saunders was jerked to consciousness as he was being hauled up an embankment onto dry ground. He tried to focus on what was going on around him, but something was burning his right eye and the left eye was blurred. He reached up to swipe at his right eye and stared at the hand that came away covered with blood. The cut over his temple must have been reopened when the walls of the mill had tumbled down on them. Emile! Saunders started to sit up, but was knocked back down brutally with a rifle butt to the middle of his chest. He gasped as the wind was knocked out of him and looked up to see three Germans standing over him with their rifles pointed at his chest and head. He lay perfectly still and tried to look around him. Emile lay just a few feet from him. He was extremely pale and it didn’t look as if he was breathing. There were no Germans guarding him and Saunders realized he must be dead. “Well, Sergeant,” an oily voice spoke to his right. “So good of you to join us. You seem to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Behave yourself and you may live a while longer.” The German moved into Saunders’ view and the sergeant recognized the SS major from the night before. The officer barked an order and Saunders was rolled onto his stomach and his arms were pulled roughly behind him, his wrists bound tightly with a piece of cord. He was then pulled to his feet. Dizzy and off-balance, Saunders reeled into one of the Krauts who swung his rifle into the sergeant’s ribs, bringing him to his knees. The hands pulled him up once more and he made a concerted effort to stay upright and walk with them. He was shoved up against the back of a transport truck and hands grabbed the shoulders of his field jacket and pulled him into the floor of the truck on his belly. Rifles were pointed at his head and several feet were planted on his back and legs, making it impossible for him to move. He lay there panting and sore, unable to do anything about his situation. The truck bounced down a rough dirt road, but not very far before it stopped again. There was a lot of shouting, then the truck was turned around and headed back the other way. It seemed to leave the road, bouncing through bushes and over uneven ground. Soon the vehicle ground to a halt and Saunders was dragged out of the back by his feet, to land heavily on the ground. His head reeled as he gasped for breath. Hands grabbed his upper arms and dragged him a short distance, putting excruciating pressure on his bound wrists. He was lifted and backed against a tree, where he was bound with a rope wrapped several times around his chest and stomach. A pan of water was splashed into his face, and as his vision cleared he could see the Kraut major standing before him. “We are unable to travel north because someone, probably you, has blown the bridge,” he spoke looking at a riding quirt as he fondled it between his fingers. “We are unable to travel south because it seems some of your friends are moving up from that direction.” He continued to stroke the whip. “Tell me, Sergeant,” the German finally looked straight at the bound man before him. “Just what direction can I travel to get back to my people safely? Hmm?” He let the hint of a smile crease his lips. “My…name is Saunders, Sergeant. Two, two, seven…oh, six, two, two.” The exhausted man gasped. The whip came down across the sergeant’s left jawbone, splitting the skin and jerking his head to the right. Saunders suppressed a cry and let his head drop to his chest. He just didn’t seem to have the strength to hold it up. A hand fisted in his thick blond hair and his head was jerked up against the tree. “Tell me what I want to know, Sergeant, or I will just have you killed right here.” The Major was obviously out of time and patience. Saunders said nothing more, but just stared at the strange little esses embroidered on the officer’s collar. His only thought was that this was a man who would hold innocent little children hostage to get what he wanted. He would never succumb to such a coward. The German moved closer and pressed the end of the quirt against Saunders’ throat, “Well?” he growled. The sergeant spit in the officer’s face, the spit, mixed with blood ran down the major’s right cheek as he stumbled backwards, not believing what had just happened. Removing a handkerchief from his pocket, the German carefully wiped the blood and spittle from his face and turned back to the doomed American sergeant. With slow, deliberate movements, the Kraut pulled his Luger from its holster and aimed it at the bound man, pulling the trigger once. A white-hot pain exploded in the sergeant’s chest and he slumped against the ropes that held him to the tree. The German who held a fistful of Saunders’ hair released his hold to let the sergeant’s head fall forward on his chest. Disgustedly, the major turned and crawled back into his staff car as the other four Germans with him climbed back into the truck. They would just have to try a different route and take their chances. * * * “The town seems to be clear, Lieutenant,” Evans reported as he trotted back to Hanley. “There were five more Krauts alive, but they surrendered without a fight. Miles said he saw a couple vehicles pull out of here headed east on an old dirt road, sir. Do you want us to follow?” “Not right now,” Hanley said. “They won’t get far in any direction. They’ll either run into another Allied Company or they’ll turn around and come back here. They have no other choices. Bring the other squad leaders here while I report in.” He turned his back on Evans and reached for the radio receiver that Brockmeyer was holding out to him. “Yes, sir,” Evans turned away to search for the other sergeants. Lt. Hanley was enjoying a cigarette when his non-coms gathered once more before him. “This was a piece of cake, men,” he stated the obvious. “Division says to hold here until further notice. You all did a good job.” He threw the cigarette butt down and crushed it with his toe. “Has anyone seen Saunders?” he asked finally. “No, sir,” they looked at each other and shook their heads. “Lieutenant?” Miles spoke softly. “What is it, Miles?” Hanley asked. “Sir, I found Emile, at least his body, down by the old mill on the east side of town. No one was with him. He was shot in the leg, and it looked like he might have died during the barrage. The mill was demolished.” He reported. As he spoke a single shot rang out in the distance to the east. Everyone was silent for a moment. “That sounded like a pistol, didn’t it, Mac?” Evans commented. “Yeah,” McDonald agreed. “Sounds like someone’s still out there close.” “Lieutenant, Saunders lost his Thompson in the cave. All he had was his sidearm. Maybe that was him.” Miles suggested. “We’ll check it out,” Hanley nodded. “Mac, set up perimeter security. Miles get First Squad together and meet me at the east end of town. The rest of you can stand down for now. If trouble starts be ready to back us up.” He ordered as he reached for his carbine and helmet. When Hanley reached the edge of the village, Caje, Kirby, Littlejohn, Nelson, Doc, and Miles were waiting. It was apparent that moral was low among the small group. They had all believed Saunders would have shown up by now. Hanley sent Caje ahead as the others fell in a ragged line behind their lieutenant and the big sergeant. Kirby covered the rear position, still looking back over his shoulder occasionally, believing that Saunders had to be in that town somewhere. They just hadn’t looked good enough. Less than half a mile from the village, Caje motioned to the lieutenant to come forward. He had found tire tracks leading off the road and into a small meadow on the right. “What do ya think, Lieutenant?” Caje asked. Before Hanley could answer a tremendous explosion caused the earth to tremble beneath the soldiers’ feet. “Come on!” Hanley motioned to the others and headed down the road at a trot. As they rounded a curve, they saw a German staff car lying on its side apparently wrecked by a mine. A transport truck was pulled into the ditch behind the still smoking staff car, and four German soldiers were excitedly trying to right the burning vehicle. “Spread out and flank ‘em!” Hanley called softly as the men quickly slipped into the woods on either side of the road. The Germans were frantically searching the area around the car and oblivious to the GIs approaching them from two sides. With a motion from Hanley, the Americans moved in quickly, surrounding the suddenly startled Germans. They threw their weapons to the ground and raised their hands high above their heads without any resistance whatsoever. Caje and Miles quickly relieved the Krauts of their utility belts and helmets, checking their pockets and boots for hidden weapons. “Hey, Lieutenant,” Kirby called from near the overturned staff car. “There’s a big wheel over here, but he’s dead.” Hanley walked around the end of the car to find a German major lying pinned beneath it. There were SS insignia on his collar, and his eyes were wide and staring sightlessly into space. Hanley knelt and searched the officer’s tunic pockets, coming up with a couple maps and several other official-looking documents which he stowed away inside his own field jacket. Rising and turning back to his men, he spoke, “Tie ‘em up and head ‘em back to the village.” In no time the German soldiers were bound and turned back towards Vebray. As the group rounded the curve, one of the Germans, a very young and frightened soldier, began to fidget and sweat profusely. His steps faltered and Nelson prodded him several times to make him keep up with the rest. Just before they reached the spot where the vehicle tracks had left the road, the young soldier stopped completely and started yelling pleas that the Americans couldn’t understand. Hanley and Miles turned back to find out what was going on. “I don’t know what’s wrong with ‘im, Lieutenant,” Billy was exasperated. “He just keeps looking out towards that clearing and squawkin’.” The German soldier had fallen to his knees and seemed to be begging for his life. Tears streaked his face and he trembled uncontrollably. One of the other Krauts growled a contemptuous order to the frightened boy, and Littlejohn jabbed a rifle barrel into his back to shut him up. “Maybe we should check this out, huh, Lieutenant?” Miles asked nervously as he glanced out across the open space. “Okay, Kirby, you, Miles, and Caje go check it out,” Hanley ordered. “We’ll wait here. Make it snappy.” “Yes, sir,” Miles nodded at the others and motioned for Caje to take the lead. They followed the tire tracks close to the tree line and hadn’t gone far, when Caje stopped without moving. He stood staring into the edge of the woods, all color drained from his face and his eyes were wide. When Miles reached him, the Cajun was muttering, “Mon Dieu! Oh, mon Dieu!” over and over. Kirby ran up to his friend, taking him by the arm. “Caje! What is it? Whassa matter?” Miles had turned and yelled for Doc, then ran towards the trees. Kirby turned just as Miles reached a tree with a man tied to it. It was an American soldier with blood covering the front of his jacket. The head hanging loosely against the soldier’s chest was covered with tousled blond hair. “No!” Kirby screamed and ran towards the figure, not believing this could be happening. Doc arrived at Miles’ side as the big man wrapped an arm beneath the limp figure’s ribs and lifted to relieve the tension on the ropes. He drew his bayonet from its sheath and began cutting the ropes that bound the body to the tree. Doc reached shaking hands towards Saunders’ head to lift it and check for any sign of life. Kirby ran up on the opposite side of Doc and quickly began pulling the ropes away as Miles cut them. “My God!” Doc breathed. “He’s alive!” “Well, hurry up an’ get ‘im loose!” Kirby was getting frantic. Soon the injured man slumped limply across the huge, strong arm holding him up, and Kirby quickly cut the cord that bound the sergeant’s wrists together. “Lieutenant!” Miles yelled over his shoulder, but Hanley had already reached Caje, who was still standing in shock of the horror he had just witnessed. Hanley turned to the others as they slowly lowered Saunders to the grass at the edge of the meadow. Doc had opened his medical bag and was working hurriedly over the still form. Hanley knelt beside the medic. “Doc?” he whispered, almost afraid to ask. “He’s alive, Lieutenant,” Doc assured him. “Looks like the weight of his body against those ropes kept him from bleeding to death. He’s been shot through the chest just beneath the left collarbone. I don’t think it’s affected his lung, but he’s lost a lot of blood. He’s bad, Lieutenant. He needs a hospital – fast.” The medic continued to work as he spoke. He placed a pressure pack against the bullet hole in the sergeant’s chest and looked over at the lieutenant. “Would you put some pressure on that, Lieutenant?” he asked. As soon as Hanley placed a hand on the bandage, Doc started working on the cuts above Saunders’ right temple and the one along his left jaw. “Lousy, good-for-nothin’ Krauts!” Kirby yelled loudly and turned back towards the road leaving little doubt to anyone what was on his mind. “Stop him!” Hanley bellowed as Miles and Caje moved to contain the enraged BAR man. “Don’t worry, Kirby,” Caje spoke softly to calm his friend. “They’ll get what they deserve.” Miles took Kirby by the arm and held on as he turned to Caje. “Go back over there and tell the others what’s goin’ on. I’ll take care of Kirby.” Caje nodded, “Okay, Sarge.” He said as he glanced back at the prone figure lying in the grass. He slowly raised his M1 and walked away to inform Littlejohn and Nelson of what was happening. Miles pulled Kirby closer to Saunders. “He’s alive, Kirby. He’ll be okay. Understand?” Kirby stood looking down at the blood-covered body of his friend and leader for a moment. His fit of anger slowly gave way to concern for his sergeant, and his shoulders sagged with acceptance. “Ya shoulda let me kill ‘em,” he muttered beneath his breath. “They deserve to die for this.” Miles placed his hand on Kirby’s shoulder. “They’ll stand trial. Every one of ‘em. They’ll pay. Now, come on, Kirby. We need to build a stretcher.” “Yeah, okay,” Kirby pulled the BAR strap from around his neck and proceeded to remove his field jacket. Miles did the same and they had a makeshift stretcher ready when Doc was finished bandaging the sergeant’s wounds. The men were all silent and moody as they carried Saunders back towards Vebray. Brockmeyer had set up the radio equipment in the mayor, Emile’s house. Hanley called in his report and requested an ambulance. Saunders had been placed on a bed in one of the downstairs bedrooms of the house. It was only one of a few structures not destroyed by the American barrage. Hanley stood at the door to the bedroom for a moment watching Doc cleaning the blood from Saunders’ pale skin. Doc turned and smiled at the lieutenant. “He woke up a while ago, Lieutenant,” the medic informed him. “He was delirious from the pain and I had to give him morphine. He’s asleep now and breathing pretty easy. I think he’ll make it if we can get him back to a hospital real soon.” “An ambulance will be here in a couple hours,” Hanley told Doc. “The guys are hangin’ around the front door for some word on him. Why don’t you go calm ‘em down, Doc.” “Yes, sir,” Doc rose and stretched the kinks out of his back. He’d been working over Saunders for the last hour and didn’t realize how tense his muscles had become, trying to save the life of a good friend. “Send Miles in if you see him, Doc,” Hanley requested as the medic walked towards the door. “Okay, Lieutenant,” Doc disappeared through the door, and Hanley settled back in a comfortable chair beside Saunders’ bed and lit a cigarette. “You wanted to see me, Lieutenant?” Sgt. Miles spoke from the doorway as he ducked slightly to enter the room. “Yes, Miles,” Hanley motioned him to a chair. “Battalion needs you back there by tomorrow morning. Seems you have another demolition job to take care of. You’ve done a good job here, and I wanted you to know how much we’ve appreciated your help. You may ride back most of the way in the ambulance when they pick up Saunders in two hours. You can probably get a ride from the hospital on back to HQ.” “Thanks, Lieutenant,” Miles nodded, then glanced at the quiet figure in the bed. “Will he be okay?” “Doc seems to think he’ll make it,” Hanley smiled as he stood and moved towards the door. Miles sat back and lit a cigarette. After a moment he stood to leave the room. Before he reached the door there was a low moan from the bed. The sergeant turned around and sat back down beside the injured man and placed a hand on the pale arm lying above the cover. His hand brushed the gauze wrapped around Saunders’ wrist and a picture flashed through his mind of the terror of being bound and tortured. He looked down and shook his head. When he looked up again, Saunders was staring at him with glazed blue eyes. “E…Emile?” Saunders had trouble speaking around a dry throat and swollen jaw. “He’s dead, Saunders. The barrage. It couldn’t be helped.” Miles informed him. Saunders looked away, his breath quickening slightly at the news. “Take it easy, Saunders,” Miles soothed. “The children were saved, as were the rest of the villagers. I know we’d all like to, but we just can’t save ‘em all.” Miles sat silently for a moment then spoke again. “Hanley and your squad are waiting outside. They probably think you’re gonna sleep forever. I’m gonna send Doc back in to check you out.” He patted the sergeant’s arm and rose to leave. Just before he reached the door, he turned back to the wounded man he now considered a friend. “I still think you’re crazy, Saunders,” He smiled as he turned away. END |
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