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| by Ranger
Part II of Doc II's story (You can thank Doc II for issuing a personal challenge) As the cool night air waned to a dusky dawn, the acrid smell of smoke still sifted through the air from the burnt trees of last evening. Caje awoke from a fitful sleep. For a moment he thought he was dreaming that the Sergeant and Jones were missing. But as he looked down on the sleeping and wounded medic he realized it had not been a dream. With a start he shook Doc awake making sure the Medic was alive and as well as could be. "Doc!" Doc awoke dreamily. He didn’t seem to remember where he was or what had happened. But to Caje he was alive and that was good. Concussion probably, the Cajun thought to himself. The acting-Sergeant now looked around for Kirby and Littlejohn at the next foxhole. They were up and on guard. Caje called for Littlejohn to come over and tend to Doc. He and Kirby would go and scout the perimeter of the woods to see if they could find Saunders and Jones. Caje thought to himself either in whole or any sign that would tell him of their plight. Hesitantly the two moved forward, rifles at the ready. They crossed the clearing, now devoid of grass, soil and plant life. One big barren shell-hole of gravel and rocks and littered with daggers of branches and splintered tree trunks. Kirby questioned Caje "How we gonna find the Sarge in this mess?" Caje just pressed forward searching under, over and behind the debris. Kirby and Caje were now in the decimated wood-lot searching for any sign. Kirby stumbled around the debris littered forest. Caje had shouldered his weapon and now was on hands and knees crawling under precariously perched logs and treetops gouged into the ground with the force of a hurricane. It was Kirby muttering to himself as he tripped once again. "How we ever gonna find anyone? Look at this mess?" Caje replied in anger, "keep searching, Kirby." Kirby put his arms out to catch himself from the next trip. When he landed he was face to face with an American soldiers boot. "Caje. I found something!" With the prowess of a big cat, Caje was there in seconds. Caje took the boot in his hand and looked it over. Jones was a tall soldier, probably took a larger boot than the Sarge. Caje was sure this would be Saunders boot. "We must be close." Kirby and Caje were both now on hands and knees and calling out for Saunders and Jones. Caje stopped instantly trying not to panic. He had reached under a fractured tree trunk when he felt human flesh. He retracted his arm and immediately took stock of the debris field. Three large logs crisscrossed each other and the top of a tree lay over them upside down. Caje and Kirby began to brush the debris away from one of the logs to gain entry into the confined space. Slowly they made their way and soon had enough space to check the first victim. It was Sarge. Unconscious and bleeding from branches protruding from his right leg. They dug furiously to release the Sergeant from his wooden imprisonment. As they began to pull him out they discovered that his body had been sheilding the replacement, Jones. Caje began working on Saunders and Kirby took Jones. Jones appeared to be just unconcious from the concussion of the 88's. Kirby whistled, " boy they must have been close. He’s out like a light. Probably has been all night." "Sarge isn’t much better, Kirby. I’ve done what I can for him. I’m going back for Littlejohn and Doc. Keep an eye out." Caje hotfooted it back to where he had left the two privates. Kirby was surveying the wooded area and checking on his patients. The next time he turned around Caje was kneeling by the Sergeant. Kirby jumped backwards. "You’ve got to stop doing that! I’m gonna have a heart attack. Where’s Doc and Littlejohn?" Caje didn’t look up, "coming." Soon Littlejohn came into view with Doc hobbling and leaning heavily on him for support. Littlejohn tried to set Doc down gently but in Doc’s haste to render medical care to his fallen comrades, he slipped out of Littlejohn’s grasp and slid to the ground already searching his ruck for bandages and medicine. Shakily he began to work. It was a while before Doc reached up to wipe the sweat from his forehead and sat back trying to relax. "I think they’ll make it. Fix up two litters, we’ve got to get them back to the aid station. END |