Stand

Disclaimer: You know the drill...the squad belongs to ABC, not me. I don't make any money from this, it's just for fun.

Copyright 2001

Billy Takes A Stand

Billy plodded ahead of the others, ostensibly keeping an eye out for Germans, but in reality...lost in thought. Why did Sarge choose him for this? Was it because the sergeant didn't trust him enough to stay and help hold the village? Or because he did trust him enough to get the others safely back to the aid station? Sometimes he felt that the others thought of him more like a kid brother, than a soldier. Dragging his thoughts back to the task at hand, he wiped his sleeve across his face. It had started out quite chilly when they'd left for the village at the crack of dawn, but it was becoming uncomfortably warm as the sun approached its noon position.

Glancing back at the others, Billy couldn't help the disgust he felt for the man walking behind him. Powell. The man is a jerk, he thought. Always calling me "kid", and treating me like a green recruit. Heck, I've been on the front line longer than he has.

Powell was always trying to get out of duty...especially if that duty might require getting shot at. Nelson suspected that that might be why the man had volunteered to help Doc carry Caje back to the aid station. He guessed Powell felt safer doing that, than holding the village until the platoon from Baker Company showed up.

Shaking his head slightly to clear his thoughts once more, Billy peered at the man on the litter. Caje looked more peaceful than he had earlier. Maybe he was doing better. Doc's face still wore a frown, so maybe not. Of course, the frown could be from carrying the litter so far. The medic must get awfully tired from carrying litters all the time, he mused.

Returning his attention to his surroundings, he led the others in silence. They hadn't gone much further, when Powell demanded that they stop and rest. "C'mon guys, let's stop for five; my arms are killing me."

Glancing back at Doc, Billy locked eyes with the medic. Doc shook his head, still frowning. They needed to keep moving.

"Sorry, Powell. Doc says we keep going."

Powell muttered something under his breath for a minute, then made a disgusted sound. "Doc says, Doc says. I didn't hear him say anything. 'Sides, he's just a private same as us. Who put him in charge?"

Looking back to see the flash of anger in Doc's eyes, Billy repressed a smile. Powell was gonna hear it for that later. Billy quite looked forward to the spectacle. "Doc doesn't have to say anything, 'cause I can tell what he's thinkin' by the look on his face. And when it comes to the wounded...Doc's in charge. So shut up and keep walkin'."

"Yeah, well I ain't wounded, so he ain't in charge of me. I say we stop."

"You heard me, Powell. Sarge put me in charge and I say we keep walking. Both us have been on the line longer than you have. You'll live a lot longer if you button your lip and do what we tell you, wiseguy."

Having heard every word, Caje couldn't help the smile that crept to his lips. It wasn't often that he heard Billy stand up for himself like that. Looking up into Doc's weary face, the Cajun wished he could get up off the litter and walk. He knew the wounds weren't that bad, but the blood loss had taken its toll. The littlest effort made him tired. He wondered if he should tell the others to take a break. He thought better of that idea; he didn't want to undermine Billy's authority with Powell. As a wave of exhaustion washed over him, Caje settled himself more comfortably on the stretcher and drifted into an uneasy sleep.

The sweat trickling down his face itched and Powell longed to wipe it away. His resentment of the others grew with each weary step. Sure he was new, but he was no sap. He knew the score. How dare these guys treat him like a green recruit, he thought to himself. He needed to rest. His arms trembled with the strain of carrying the litter. He couldn't understand why he couldn't switch with Nelson. Sarge had made the order clear, however. Nelson had the point all the way. Part of his anger stemmed from jealousy, though he'd never admit it. None of the others seemed to show any fear. Shifting his grip, Powell's anger went up a notch. How could Doc just keep plodding along when Powell felt like he was going to drop with each weary step he took?

Half an hour later, even Billy was getting tired. Wiping his face yet again, Billy turned to grimace at Doc. "Boy it's gettin' hot."

Giving Nelson a crooked grin, Doc shook his head. "If you think it's warm here in the trees, just wait 'til we run outta shade."

Billy had been hearing the sound of rushing water for a while, but as the trees thinned he could finally see the stream several yards to his left. Oh, how he longed to take off his boots and wade into that cool, clear water. Following the stream with his eyes, he saw a wooden structure about a hundred yards downstream. From this angle, he could just make out the big wooden water wheel.

"Hey Doc, look. It's a gristmill. Maybe we could rest for a minute in there; it'll be nice and cool, and we can get more water for our canteens."

The trembling in Powell's arms hadn't gone unnoticed by the medic, so Doc nodded his assent. He didn't want the private to drop Caje and aggravate the injuries. He had finally gotten the wounds to stop bleeding and didn't want them to start up again. Besides, Doc was about to drop from exhaustion himself.

Deciding it would be safer to stick to the trees until they drew abreast of the mill, Billy led them forward. He kept a sharp eye out for Germans. He doubted there would be any way out here in the middle of nowhere, but he was alert for them just the same.

He became even more wary as they drew closer to the mill. They would have about forty yards of open ground to cross once they left the safety of the woods. The other two soldiers also kept their eyes peeled for the enemy. None of them saw any sign of Germans.

Nevertheless...they were there.

They headed off to their left, dodging fallen trees and rotting stumps, Billy in the lead. When they were halfway between the mill and the tree line, bullets suddenly tore up the dirt at their feet.

Hitting the ground behind a fallen tree, Billy pinpointed the direction of the enemy fire and opened up with his M-1. Powell unceremoniously dropped his end of the stretcher and curled up behind a tree stump a few feet away. Left in the open, Doc threw himself over Caje in a weak attempt to protect the wounded man.

Yelling at Powell to start shooting, Billy reloaded and returned fire once more. He spared a quick glance at Powell and was thankful to see the private finally picking up his weapon. Billy couldn't do this alone. He heard the reports from the other man's M-1 with welcome relief.

Ducking as bullets tore into the tree he hid behind, Billy wished more than ever that Sarge had sent someone else out on this little escort detail. He suddenly found himself responsible for three people's lives, other than his own, and found that responsibility a heavy load to carry. What am I gonna do to get us outta this mess?

Taking advantage of the cover fire, Doc grabbed Caje by the jacket collar and hauled him behind another fallen tree. Bits of bark flew every which way as bullets tore into their refuge, the sharp splinters cutting the medic's cheek. He leaned over and once again used his body to protect Caje, taking the opportunity to check to see if his efforts had reopened the wounds. So far, so good. He knew that wouldn't last; they couldn't stay there forever. Caje would have to be moved again. His frantic gaze met Caje's and much was said without a word being spoken. They would both do what they had to.

Billy aimed and fired as a German stood from his shelter to lob a grenade. The kraut jerked as the bullet impacted, and the grenade fell short. One down, Nelson thought in satisfaction...he didn't know how many were left.

The explosion a few short yards in front of them blew dirt and debris over the Americans. Powell shot Billy a panicky look. "Grenades! They've got grenades, Nelson. We gotta get outta here!"

Hearing the fright in Powell's voice, Billy paused in his shooting long enough to fix him with an icy glare. "So?! We have grenades, Powell. Just keep shooting. How do you expect Caje to run very far? We sure ain't leavin' him here!"

Another explosion, this one closer than before, broke Powell's nerve. He dropped his rifle and took off. He ran blindly for the shelter of the woods, ignoring the shouts from Billy and Doc. All he could think about was staying alive, not sparing a single thought for the three men he was leaving behind. His feet pounded the ground as he flew past the tree sheltering Doc and Caje.

When Powell ran past, almost stepping on the huddled pair, Doc tried to stop him. He couldn't believe the obnoxious private was deserting them. Rising up on his knees to grab the man as he ran past, Doc almost got himself shot. Just as the medic sat up to grab Powell, Caje snatched Doc's jacket and yanked him back down. A bullet whined and smacked the ground beside them, narrowly missing the two.

The panicked soldier nearly made it.

Watching helplessly, Doc saw Powell spin from the impact of a bullet to his side. The wounded man fell to the ground, picked himself back up, and stumbled dazedly for the woods. Lead missiles gouged the ground around his feet, but miraculously missed him. Just a few more feet. Just a few more feet and he'd make it.

When Powell faltered and dropped to one knee, Doc made up his mind. Sprinting for the wounded man, he kept as low to the ground as he could, ignoring Caje's shouts behind him. The noise of gunfire seemed to come from all around him. He could see Powell struggling to regain his footing. Almost there, he thought. Almost there.

Hearing Caje's shout, Billy turned his head and felt his heart lurch. Doc was running for all he was worth, trying to reach Powell in time. The wounded goldbrick was staggering toward the woods, away from the medic. Caje was on his stomach behind the fallen tree, yelling for Doc to stop, one hand clutching the bandage on his side. Looking back toward the enemy, Billy saw one of the Germans rise up and toss another grenade. Time ceased to exist for one horrifying moment.

That one moment was frozen in time, like a color photograph...forever imprinted in his brain. Caje was behind the log, stretching toward Doc...as if he could stop him if he just reached far enough. The scout's face was etched with pain, exhaustion and dread. Doc was hunched over, trying to make himself a smaller target as he ran, waving at Powell to drop to the ground. Powell had turned toward the others with a strange, surprised look on his face. A deafening sound broke the tableau.

The grenade hit close to Powell. The poor soldier took most of the blast and was killed instantly. To Billy, it was like an unseen hand lifted Doc up and threw him several feet away. The medic's momentum was stopped when he suddenly slammed into a tree. Billy's stomach flip-flopped at the horrifying sound of the impact. Doc fell limply onto his side...and didn't move.

Sharing a brief, terrified look with Caje, Billy shifted behind his sheltering tree and began firing at the krauts once more. He tried to force his mind to think only of the enemy and not of Doc's unmoving form. He didn't want to lose another friend; he'd already lost so many. Even as he fired repeatedly at the Germans, he chanted to himself, "Not Doc. Not Doc. Please...not Doc."

Caje stared at the unmoving figure at the base of the tree, willing him to show some sign of life. He looked back at Billy and could see the younger man's lips moving, talking to himself. Caje couldn't believe things could go so wrong, so quickly. He wished the sergeant were there. Sarge would be able to get them out of this mess. Kirby and Littlejohn wouldn't hurt either, he thought wryly.

Twisting around to look at Doc once more, Caje froze. Was that movement? He waited, chewing on his lower lip in anxiety. There! Yes, that was movement! Caje offered up a silent prayer of thanks as he watched Doc's hand reach up to feel his head.

"Billy!"

Sparing Caje a glance, Billy saw a look of relief on his face. It only took a second for Billy to understand the look, and he turned his gaze to Doc. At first he didn't see anything different, then he saw the medic moving his legs. A huge burden lifted from Billy's shoulders. Doc was alive. Nelson realized that if the medic started moving around too much, he might not stay alive.

His thoughts racing, Billy finally came up with a plan. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a grenade. Removing the pin, he climbed to his knees and threw the grenade as far as he could from that position. Not waiting for the explosion, he jumped to his feet and ran for Powell's discarded M-1. Reaching down as he opproached the tree stump, and in one fluid motion, Billy snatched up the weapon and threw himself towards Caje. Landing with a thump that nearly drove the breath from his lungs, he rolled over and took cover.

Taking the rifle from Billy, Caje propped himself up by the fallen tree and began firing. "Good job, Billy. You need another grenade?"

"No, I've got two left. You?"

"Two."

They both ducked as splinters of wood went flying when the Germans returned fire. Billy grabbed another grenade and looked at Caje. "Ready?"

Receiving a terse nod, Nelson once again got to his knees and lobbed a grenade. He lurched to his feet and ran for Doc. Grabbing him by the collar, he pulled the semiconscious medic behind the large tree and leaned around the trunk, firing off a few shots to give Caje time to use one of his grenades. As soon as the grenade left the scout's hand, Billy slipped his M-1 on his shoulder and pulled Doc to his feet. Draping the medic's arm around his neck, Billy half-carried Doc over to Caje. They both dropped to the ground and Billy lay there for a moment, panting for breath.

"Got any great plans for getting us out of here, Billy?"

Loading a fresh clip and firing off a few quick shots, Billy looked toward the gristmill. "Think you can make it to that mill? I saw a window in the back when I first got a look at it from back there. We can't get to the door in the front; they'll hit us for sure."

Knowing he had no other choice, Caje nodded soberly. "I'll make it." He looked over at Doc, who lay at Billy's feet. The medic was staring up at the sky, blinking at the sun. Every few moments, he would reach up and finger the large knot forming on his right temple with a look of confusion. As if he wasn't quite sure where he was, or how he got there. "What about Doc?"

Billy ducked his head, wiping the sweat with his shoulder. "D'you think you can make it across by yourself?"

"It's not too far; I'll be okay. I'll warn you though, it'll pretty much wipe me out. I won't be much use to you for a while after that."

"We'll hafta risk it. I can't leave Doc alone. He's kinda...confused...and I'm not sure he'll stay behind cover."

Dragging himself into a position to run, Caje nodded at Billy. Pulling the pin from his last grenade, Billy threw it as Caje ran for the mill. Snatching up his M-1 as soon as the grenade left his hand, Nelson gave the scout cover fire.

Pouring nearly every last ounce of strength he had left into the limping sprint, Caje made it to the back of the wooden building safely. He leaned against the corner, panting heavily. It was all he could do to raise his rifle and start firing.

Releasing a sigh of relief when Caje reached safety, Billy leaned over to get Doc's attention. "Doc! I'm gonna need you to run in a minute. Think you can do it?"

Doc propped himself up on his elbows and looked at Billy in confusion. He couldn't seem to string two thoughts together and had no idea where he was. The pounding in his head was making him nauseous and he wasn't entirely sure he could keep his stomach where it belonged. He couldn't understand how he'd come to be lying on the ground, and he could swear he was hearing gunfire. The last thing he remembered was carrying someone on a litter. Caje maybe?

Seeing the glazed look in Doc's eyes, Billy tried again. "Doc, I need you to run to the mill. Can you do that?"

Making an effort to focus on the face hovering near his, Doc nodded his head hesitantly. "Um....run?"

"Yes, run. Can you make it to the mill?"

"Mill? Uh...yeah."

He had his doubts, but Billy knew they had to chance it. He yanked Doc to his feet and gave him a shove toward the mill, then let loose with his M-1. Billy ran beside the medic, prodding him when Doc seemed to falter. As soon as Billy got to the building, he dropped to his knees next to Caje and fired around the corner. Doc stumbled over his own feet and hit the ground by the window, where he lay moaning and holding his head.

Looking up at Caje, Billy noticed the man's pallor. "Hey, Caje. Think you can keep it up for just a coupla minutes? Just 'til I get Doc inside?"

"Yeah, Billy, just...hurry."

Wasting no more time, Billy jumped up and went to the window. It was unlocked, but he had to struggle to open it. Grunting with effort, he finally managed to lift the stubborn thing high enough for them to squeeze through. Pulling Doc back to his feet, he helped the medic crawl through the window, holding onto Doc's arm the whole time to keep the man from falling once he was inside.

"Okay, Caje, your turn."

Keeping his right hand against the wall for support, Caje staggered over to Billy. He handed over his M-1 and made his painful way through the window. Once inside, he reached out and took both weapons so Billy could crawl through.

Seeing a crate over by the window on the right side of the room, Billy helped Caje over to it and sat him down. Caje could rest there and keep an eye out for the krauts. Trotting over to the window by the door at the front of the building, Billy looked at their surroundings. There were some stairs over in the back corner and the big grindstones took up most of the center of the room. Billy sighed. Well, we made it inside. Now what?

Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, he knocked out some glass from the window, took aim and fired. The German soldier that had been making his way forward dropped like a stone. "I got one, Caje. How many do you think there are?"

Leaning wearily against the wall, Caje shrugged. "My guess is, there were about four or five. You've wounded the one that threw the grenade and killed another. So we're looking at two or three, with one wounded."

Not seeing any other movement, Billy took the opportunity to check on Doc. The medic sat in the middle of the floor next to the millstones with one hand pressed to his aching head and the other held tightly to his middle. Pulling Doc's hand away from his head, Billy whistled. The whole right side of the medic's face was covered in scrapes and scratches. His right eye was rapidly swelling shut and he had an impressive knot forming on his right temple. "You hit that tree pretty hard there, Doc. Are you hurt anywhere else besides your head?"

Looking around at his surroundings in confusion, Doc stared at Billy with a puzzled expression. "Billy? Where are we?"

"You remember that gristmill we saw a ways back? We're in the mill, Doc."

"Mill? How did we get here? Where's Sarge?"

Sharing a worried look with Caje, Billy rubbed a hand over his mouth. "Oh, boy. Doc? Listen to me...what do you remember?"

"Remember?" Doc tried to bring his scattered thoughts together. It was so hard to concentrate. His head throbbed in time with his heart, those butterflies were back in full force in his stomach and his right arm hurt when he moved it. He didn't know where he was or how he got there...and that was scaring him. The floor was dipping and spinning, threatening to throw him off. He didn't know there were earthquakes in France. He tried to focus on Billy's face. "Ummm...a litter? Caje?"

"That's right. You were carrying Caje on a litter. What else?"

The floor was really starting to move, now. "Uh...Billy? When did the earthquake start?"

"Earthquake? What are you talking about?"

"The floor, Billy. I'm gonna fall off, if it don't stop movin'."

Billy removed his helmet and rubbed a hand through his dark hair. "Oh, this is just swell." He sighed and replaced his helmet, then rested a comforting hand on Doc's back. "You're just dizzy, Doc. You just...sit here for a while. Maybe it'll go away."

Lifting the strap of the medical bag over Doc's head, Billy carried it over to Caje. "Let me check those bandages, Caje."

Wincing at the effort, Caje shifted so his back was to the wall. He sucked in a quick breath as Billy lifted the bandage from his side. Satisfied with what he found, Billy checked the one wrapped tightly around Caje's left thigh. Frowning, he pulled a fresh bandage from the medical pouch and tied it snuggly over the old one.

"Well?"

"Looks okay. Your leg was bleedin' a little bit, but not too bad. I just wish Doc was with it, so he could check you out."

Glancing over at Doc, Caje sighed and laid his head back against the wall. "He's out again, Billy."

Billy turned around and saw Doc curled up on the dust-covered floor, his eyes closed. He turned a frightened gaze to Caje. "I'm worried, Caje. He don't remember anything but carrying you on a litter. What if he broke his skull or something? I don't know what to do for him."

"There's not much we can do for him. Just clean out those scratches a little bit, if you can. I'll keep an eye out."

Trusting that Caje would stay alert, Billy knelt next to Doc and rolled him over onto his back. He pulled some gauze from the medic's bag and dampened it with water from his canteen. He opened a packet of sulfa and sprinkled it over the wet gauze, then cleaned the cuts and scrapes as gently as he could. He needn't have bothered...Doc didn't even flinch from the ministrations. Finished, Billy sat staring at the medic for a moment, then got up and went back to his window. He needed to form some plan of action.

"Hey, Caje. How many clips you got left?"

Taking inventory of his pockets, Caje sighed at the results. "Just three. What about you?"

"Only two. Guess we better make them count, huh?" Billy stared through the broken glass and tried desperately to come up with a plan. Unfortunately, every time he figured something out...it involved leaving Caje and Doc behind. He knew that neither one of them was leaving the building under their own power. Caje was too weak, and Doc...Billy was really scared for Doc. Even he knew that head injuries could do permanent damage. What if the quiet, dependable medic was never the same? He tried to shake that thought. He needed a plan. One that involved all three of them getting out of there. He couldn't think of one.

Hardly a sound was heard in the room for next fifteen minutes, except the occasional creak of the building or rustle of cloth, as the two soldiers stared off into the field. "Caje, what d'ya suppose those krauts are waiting for?"

Shifting so his shoulder rested against the wall, Caje shrugged. "I don't know. They're probably stragglers. They might have a radio, or sent a runner, and are waiting for help to arrive. We're a whole lot closer to our lines than theirs, so even if they do send for help, it'll be a while before they get here. Maybe that gives us time to figure something out."

Caje suddenly felt very tired and weak. "Billy, talk to me for a while. I'm gettin' pretty sleepy and need to stay awake."

"Sure, Caje." What to talk about, Billy wondered. Well, maybe Caje could answer some of those questions he had earlier. "Why do you think Sarge picked me to escort you guys back? Do you think it's 'cause he doesn't trust me as a soldier as much as Kirby or Littlejohn?"

"Don't be silly. Sarge thinks you're just as capable as those two. He probably chose you because Powell volunteered to go."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, even though Powell wasn't the nicest guy in the squad...I think Sarge wanted him to actually make it to the aid station alive. If Kirby or Littlejohn had gone with him..." Caje smiled at the look on Billy's face. "What I mean is, Sarge knew you'd keep your temper with the guy. I guess he figured even Doc wouldn't have been able to keep one of the others from blowing their tops. Especially Kirby."

Billy chuckled softly at the image of Kirby and Powell yelling at each other. "I never thought of that."

"Sarge may feel a little protective toward you, but it's because you're the youngest...not because he doubts your ability." Caje watched Billy's face as that information sank in. He could almost see the gears turning. Caje made a mental note to never call Billy "kid". He knew some of the others did and suddenly realized how wrong they all were. No soldier who'd stayed alive as long as Billy had could be called a kid.

A soft noise from the middle of the floor drew the two soldiers' attention. Doc was waking up again. Billy walked over to kneel next to Doc and helped him sit up. The medic looked around, his brow wrinkled in confusion.

"Hey, Doc, welcome back. How're you feelin'?"

"Billy? Where are we?"

Sighing in disappointment, Billy rubbed his forehead. "We're in a gristmill, Doc. We were jumped by some Germans and had to take cover in here. What's the last thing you remember?"

Thinking hard, the last thing Doc could remember was walking with the squad to go help hold a village. He recalled teasing Kirby about losing so much money in a poker game the night before. That was it. Doc just wished the rocking motion that was making him sick would stop. He reached out and grabbed Billy's arm in an effort to still the movement.

"Why are we on a boat?" Doc squeezed his eyes shut, but that just made things worse.

"Oh jeez, Caje. First he thinks it's an earthquake, now we're on a boat. What do I do?"

"I don't know," Caje shot back. "I'm not a doctor. He must be getting a little better, though."

"How can he be better? He doesn't even know where he is or what happened."

"Yeah, but the dizziness must be less. I mean, I'd think the motion of a boat would be a lot less than an earthquake."

Brightening a little at that revelation, Billy smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. Thanks." Turning back to Doc, Billy tried again. "Doc, try to think. What's the last thing you remember?"

Willing his stomach to stay where it was, Doc swallowed a couple times before answering. "Uh...I remember teasing Kirby about losing that poker game. Um, the poker game was last night. Right?"

"That's right. So the last thing you remember is us heading out this morning?"

Feeling the damage to his head with gentle fingers, Doc shot Billy a surprised look. "What the heck happened? Where are Sarge and the others?" The medic was starting to get agitated.

Billy made a calming motion with his hands and tried to reassure him. "Doc, settle down. You've had a bad bump to the head, that's all. Sarge and the others are back at the village...probably in a whole lot better shape than we are at the moment."

"You can say that again." Caje shook his head, disgusted with their situation.

Finally able to calm Doc down, Billy stood and walked back to his window. Staring thoughtfully, he tried once more to come up with a workable plan. There was no way around it. Unless those Germans got bored and left...Billy would have to leave the others behind and go for help. Soon.

"So, have you decided yet?"

Turning around to see Caje's penetrating gaze, Billy looked away. "What are you talking about? Decide what?"

Caje smiled wryly at the younger man. He knew the choice Billy was going to have to make and didn't envy him. "You know what I'm talking about, Billy. You and I both know that someone's going to have to go for help. You're the only one physically capable of doing that and you're trying to come up with a way out of it. There isn't, you know. Those Germans aren't going to leave. They know they have us outnumbered and, unless they're blind, they know at least one of us is wounded. You know it's the only way, Billy."

Meeting the other man's gaze, Billy felt a moment of despair. "I know, Caje. I just don't want to do it. I...I don't want to leave you guys behind. What if, while I'm gone, those Germans decide to attack? Or worse yet, they get re-enforcements?"

"There's no other way. I couldn't make it fifty yards and Doc..." Caje trailed off when he realized the medic had slumped to the floor again. He sighed and gestured to the unconscious man. "Doc can't seem to stay awake for more than a few minutes."

Both men jumped as shots suddenly came through the window next to Caje. Breaking more glass, Caje fired off a few well-aimed shots, forcing the kraut to take cover again. "Well, you better find another way out of this place. You'll never get out the back, now. That kraut will be sure to see you."

Glancing back at the stairs, Billy nodded his agreement. "I'll go see what's upstairs. I guess I don't have much choice but to leave."

He checked the window one last time and, satisfied that all was quiet for now, went upstairs to look around. There were only two windows on the second floor. Luckily, they were on the sides of the building. The left-side window was just above the top of the water wheel. If Billy slipped out that window, he could easily climb down the huge wheel. From that angle the Germans shouldn't spot him. He'd cut across the stream, into the trees, and be gone without them knowing it. At least that's what Billy hoped.

In the back of the room was a ladder leading to a loft. He slipped his M-1 on his shoulder and climbed up carefully, testing each rung before putting his full weight on it. At the top, he lifted a trapdoor and looked around at what must have been a storage loft. A plan began to form in his head.

When he got back downstairs, he was happy to see that Doc was awake again. Maybe he'd manage to stay awake long enough for Billy to carry out his idea. He could tell by the worried frown Caje wore that Doc was still out of it. "Still doesn't remember what's goin' on?"

Caje gave a small shake of his head. "What did you find up there?"

"There's a window over the water wheel. I'll just climb down and cut through the woods on the other side of the stream. There's also a loft above the second floor. We're gonna get you two up there to hide out 'til I can get back with some help."

Smiling tiredly, Caje asked, "So you've finally made your decision, then?"

"Yeah. I don't really see any other choice. I could try to sneak around and take care of those krauts, but they've spread themselves out. And, anyway, what if I got myself killed? You two would be in here by yourselves, with Sarge not knowing to come help." Billy sighed, frustrated with the whole lousy mess.

He walked over and held out a hand to Doc. "C'mon, Doc, let's see if we can get you on your feet."

With Billy's help Doc managed to stand, but as soon as Billy let go he staggered a few steps sideways and fell against the big stones.

Reaching out and grabbing Doc's right arm to steady him, Billy was startled by the yelp that act elicited. Propping the medic against the grindstone, Billy pushed back Doc's sleeve and winced. Halfway between his wrist and elbow, on the little finger side, was a large discolored area that was beginning to swell somewhat. "Well, Doc, looks like you might've broken your arm. I don't know what to do for it, though."

Taking an inordinate amount of time to form a response, Doc was finally able to pull his scattered wits together. "Sling. It, uh, needs a sling. Triangular bandage...in my bag."

Rifling through the medical bag, Billy managed to find what Doc was talking about. He unfolded the bandage until it made a triangle. He slid the makeshift sling under the fractured arm and tied the ends around Doc's neck. He slipped the strap to the bag over Doc's left shoulder and took him by his good arm. "C'mon, lets get you upstairs. Caje, I'll come back down to help you as soon as I get him up there."

Getting the dizzy medic up the stairs proved to be a difficult task. By the time they made it to the second floor, Billy was swearing...something he almost never did. When Doc tried to sit down, Billy pulled him back to his feet. "Oh, no. If you sit down you're liable to fall asleep again. Just lean up against this ladder. I'll be right back." He wrapped the medic's hands around a rung and waited a second to make sure he wouldn't fall over. Satisfied, he trotted down the stairs as quickly as he could.

Draping Caje's arm over his shoulders, Billy was relieved that this trip was proving much easier than the first. When they reached the second floor, Billy almost laughed. Doc had is eyes squeezed shut and he was clinging to the ladder like his life depended on it. The desire to laugh fled as quickly as it came, however, when he realized how hard it was going to be to get Doc up that ladder.

Easing Caje to the floor, Billy straightened and sighed. Might as well get this over with, he thought to himself resignedly.

"Better you than me." The look on Billy's face had Caje smiling tiredly.

"Thanks a lot, Caje."

It proved to be much easier than he'd anticipated. After one or two false starts, Doc figured out that it was easier if he just closed his eyes and felt for the rungs. Billy released a huge sigh of relief when they were both safely in the loft. Helping Doc to the floor, he climbed back down and repeated the process with Caje. Pulling one of the clips from his pocket, he handed it to his friend.

Holding out a hand in protest, Caje shook his head. "No, you might need it."

"Caje, if I run into a German patrol out there, alone, it won't matter how much ammo I have. Take it, you may need it before I get back."

Reluctantly, Caje accepted the clip and dropped it in his jacket pocket. He snagged Billy's sleeve as he started down the ladder. "Billy! Be careful, huh?"

Giving Caje a shaky smile, Billy nodded and descended the ladder, pulling the trapdoor shut. He pried the window open and made his way down the water wheel. He had to be careful where he placed his hands and feet; the moss growing on the unmoving wheel was extremely slippery. Dropping the last few feet, he landed in the icy stream and sucked in a surprised breath. He hadn't realized the water would be so cold. He waited a few minutes, then waded across and scrambled up the other side. Keeping low, he ran for the trees and kept going. He'd made it.

Knowing that time was of the essence, Billy tried to keep as fast a pace as possible. He'd jog then walk, jog then walk...his thoughts straying to the two friends he'd left behind. He kept doubting himself. Had he made the right choice? Would Caje and Doc still be there when he returned? He had no answers.

He lost track of time. Kicking himself for not looking at his watch before he left the gristmill, he tried to estimate how much time had past. He should be getting close, he reasoned, they hadn't gotten all that far from the village before getting ambushed. He struggled up yet another hill and felt renewed vigor. In the valley below him stood the village. The most beautiful sight he'd ever seen.

As Billy jogged through the maze of streets trying to find anyone from his squad, he noticed more damage than there had been when he'd left. He figured they must've had another barrage. He hoped everyone in his squad made it through okay.

He broke into a run as he caught sight of Sgt. Saunders entering the building being used as temporary headquarters. He burst through the door, panting for breath, startling Saunders and Lt. Hanley. "Sarge! We...we were ambushed. Powell...Powell's dead. I hid...Caje and Doc...in a loft...in a mill."

Lt. Hanley exchanged glances with Saunders, motioning for Billy to sit in the chair by the table he was using as a desk. "Nelson slow down and catch your breath. I can hardly understand you."

Dropping into the chair, Billy took several deep breaths and tried again. "We were ambushed, Lieutenant. A small German patrol; maybe four or five of 'em. One of them threw a grenade. Powell was killed and Doc hit his head. I think maybe it's pretty bad. When he wakes up, he can't ever remember what happened. I left them in a loft at this old gristmill we found." He twisted in the chair to look at Saunders, his eyes pleading for reassurance. "I didn't know what else to do, Sarge. Honest, I tried to think of something else, but I had to leave them to come get help."

Billy watched as Saunders and Hanley exchanged looks. Hanley shook his head and a worried frown settled across Saunders' face. Billy couldn't understand why they weren't talking about going to get the trapped men. "Sarge?"

Sitting down and leaning his elbows on the rickety table, Hanley fixed Billy with an unreadable expression. "You did the right thing by coming back, Nelson."

Still unsure as to why the two men were hesitating, Billy turned to his sergeant. "Sarge, what are we waiting for? We need to hurry; Caje and Doc are runnin' outta time."

Rubbing a hand over his eyes, Hanley sighed. "Step outside for a moment, Nelson."

Jumping to his feet, Billy shot the lieutenant a pleading look. "Lieutenant, you don't understand. I left them! Alone! I left them to come here to get help. Those krauts could already be in the mill by now. They may have gotten re-enforcements, even."

Fixing Billy with a stern glare, Saunders stepped forward. "Nelson! Do what you were ordered! Step outside. Now."

Seeing the same gaze mirrored in Lt. Hanley's face, Billy felt a little shell-shocked. He just couldn't understand what was going on. He did know, however, that he'd better do what he was told. He turned his pleading look to Saunders for a moment, then saluted Hanley and stomped out the door.

Once Billy had left, Saunders dropped down onto the chair the young soldier had just vacated. Taking off his helmet and resting it on his knee, the sergeant raised an eyebrow. "What are your orders, Lieutenant?"

Both of them knew they needed every man available to hold the village if the Germans decided to attack. They also knew, based on what Nelson had told them, time was running out for Caje and Doc.

Peering at this watch, Hanley made a quick calculation. Baker should be at the village any time now. "Alright, we've got a man in the church steeple. As soon as he spots Baker Company with the binoculars, you can leave. They'll still be a few miles out, but that's close enough. You can take Nelson and two others."

Slipping his camo helmet back on, Saunders stood to leave. He gave Lt. Hanley a curt nod. "Thanks Lieutenant."

Hanley waved the thanks off. "Just get them back safely, Sergeant."

Stepping outside, Saunders found Nelson pacing in a tight circle, mumbling to himself. "Alright, Nelson, let's go round up Littlejohn and Kirby. We're to head on over to the church and wait for the spotter to see Baker. As soon as he does, we can leave."

Billy opened his mouth to argue, but immediately closed it when he saw the flash in Sarge's eyes. He followed behind Saunders as they went to get Kirby and Littlejohn. The wait at the church was almost unbearable to him. Once he'd been told what was happening, Kirby joined Billy in his pacing.

At last, the lookout leaned over the steeple railing and whistled to them, signaling that he'd spotted their re-enforcements. Now they could leave.

Urging the others to set a fast pace, Billy worried about how much time had elapsed since he'd left. He'd gotten the help he came for...he only hoped and prayed that Doc and Caje would still be there when that help arrived.
_________________________________________________________________________________________

After Billy left, Caje opened the trapdoor to let in some light. It would also help in hearing for sounds from the ground floor when those Germans came inside. He knew it was only a matter of time before that happened.

A few minutes later, Caje leaned over to peer at the nails holding the ladder in place. They were old and rusted. If he could get the ladder loose, he could pull it up into the loft. That way, when the Germans came in, maybe they'd think the loft was empty. If nothing else, the krauts wouldn't have a way of getting up there to check it out.

He spent a fruitless twenty minutes tugging on the ladder, but couldn't get it loose enough. If he could find something to wedge under the nail head, maybe he could pry the nails loose.

His tired mind finally kicked into gear and he pulled his bayonet from its sheath. He wedged the blade's edge under the nail and worked it back and forth. It was slow, painstaking work, but he finally managed to get both nails loose. He sheathed the bayonet and tried to lift the ladder. He couldn't do it; he'd need help. "Doc! C'mere and help me with this."

The medic had been in and out twice since Billy's departure and, both times, had been confused by his surroundings. He still didn't remember anything after that morning. Doc crawled over to Caje and leaned over to grab one side of the ladder. He nearly fell through the hole.

Pushing Doc's shoulder, Caje kept him from taking the tumble. "Still dizzy? Listen Doc, just lay down on your stomach. That way you won't fall over."

Doc complied and the second time the two were able to pull the ladder into the loft and push it aside. Both lay on their backs next to the trapdoor, thoroughly exhausted by the effort. By the time Caje stirred himself to move away from the hole in the floor, Doc was out again. He pulled the medic a few feet away from the trapdoor so he wouldn't fall through.

Time passed in its slow, torturous way.

Torture was right, because every time Doc woke up he asked the same questions. "Where are we? How did we get here? Where's Sarge and the others?" Caje felt like he was back home having a conversation with his Great-Aunt Willie. She was ninety-five and couldn't remember anything. You'd hear the same questions twenty times in a ten-minute conversation.

Almost as if he sensed Caje thinking about him, Doc stirred and looked around in the dim light. "Caje? Where are we?"

Sighing, Caje anticipated the questions this time and explained the whole thing, gesturing for Doc to lower his voice. He waited while Doc assimilated the information and smiled when the medic started speaking softly. During the periods when he was awake, Doc talked constantly. Caje found it highly amusing. Normally, days could pass without a word from the quiet medic and now...Caje couldn't shut him up.

"You ever wonder why Laurel just lets Hardy slap him around like that? I could never understand that. Hey, Caje, why do you suppose they spell corpsman c-o-r-p-s-m-a-n? Makes me think of a corpse. You know, a dead body. I mean, I'm supposed to save people. Don't you think calling us corpsmen is kinda morbid?"

Caje smiled when Doc started repeating a Bob Hope and Jerry Colonna routine they'd heard on Armed Forces Radio last week. Every few minutes, Doc would crack himself up and start laughing. Gesturing once again for the medic to lower his voice, Caje shook his head. "You know, nobody's going to believe a word I say when I tell them what you've been doing."

It wasn't long before Doc was out again, silence descending on them once more. Caje wondered why the Germans hadn't come yet. Maybe they were still waiting for help. Caje hadn't realized he'd drifted off as well until he heard his name being whispered.

"Caje. Caje, wake up."

His eyes snapped open and he found Doc sitting next to him. "What is it, Doc?"

"Where's Billy?"

Sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Caje sighed. Here we go again, he thought. He started to explain the whole thing once more, but Doc interrupted.

"I know where we are, but I seem to remember Billy being with us. Where is he?"

"He left to go get some help. Wait a minute! You said you remember where we are?"

Frowning, Doc gently touched the large bump on his head. "Well, things are kinda fuzzy, but I remember being in a room with millstones. I remember something about a ladder, which is how we got up here I guess."

Caje smiled with relief. "Thank goodness!" Seeing Doc's look of puzzlement, Caje chuckled. "Sorry, Doc, but you've been a little off the beam for a while. What else do you remember?"

"Um...shooting and explosions? Powell...he's dead isn't he?"

"Yeah. Sorry, Doc, but he was killed by a grenade. That's how you got hurt, too. You've been a little...confused since then."

Something in the amused look on Caje's face convinced Doc that he was better off not asking. Instead, he moved around so he wasn't blocking the meager light filtering into the room. "Let me check those bandages."

Doc was somewhat surprised to see that the wounds hadn't bled much since their ordeal began. "Looks good, Caje. I'm actually kinda surprised."

They both jumped at a loud thump from downstairs. Caje put a finger to his lips and quietly slid over to close the trapdoor. He lay on his stomach next to the little door and held the M-1 ready. Doc crawled over beside him, barely able to make out Caje's features with what little light filtered through the cracks in the floor. They lay there practically holding their breaths. Would they be found?

They listened to the muted sounds from the ground floor then heard the thud of boots coming up the stairs. They could make out muffled German as the soldiers walked around the second floor. Suddenly the sound of footsteps stopped directly below Doc and Caje. They both froze.

The booted feet paced around the floor below the two hidden soldiers. From the sounds below him, and the muffled voices coming from the ground floor, Caje realized that more krauts had indeed arrived. There were at least three German soldiers walking around the second floor, and two or more on the first. Although, Caje couldn't be positive about the last number, because the voices were so faint.

Caje dropped his head on his arm in relief when he heard the boots thumping back down the stairs. Next to him, Doc did the same. Neither said a word or made a move, afraid they would be heard by the enemy soldiers two floors below.

How long they lay hidden in the dark loft, Caje didn't know. It felt like days. Doc had fallen asleep once more. Caje was starting to drift off himself, when he suddenly heard footsteps coming up the stairs again. From their voices, it sounded like two soldiers were walking around the second floor. He felt Doc stir beside him, his boot scraping on the floor as he moved his leg. Caje slapped a hand over the medic's mouth and threw his leg over Doc's to keep him still.

The footsteps stopped below the trapdoor, and the voices got louder as the soldiers apparently had an argument of some sort. Shots rang out, and Caje's eyes widened in surprise when a hole suddenly appeared two inches in front of his face. The Germans had apparently heard the soft noise and were shooting randomly at the ceiling, in case anyone was hiding above them. It was only a matter of time before one of the krauts got lucky.

There was a sudden burst of noise from the ground floor that sounded like muffled shots. The boots thudded back down the stairs and more gunfire was heard. The shots seemed to be coming from everywhere and Caje was frustrated by not knowing what was happening. He turned Doc loose and they both waited with bated breath. The shots tapered off, then there was nothing but silence and they wondered what was going on down there.

More thumping of boots was heard as several people ran up the stairs to the floor below. Huge smiles spread over the faces of the two soldiers hiding in the loft when they heard a familiar voice. "I don't understand, Sarge. There was a ladder here when I left."

Caje sat up and threw open the trapdoor. "Sarge, we're up here. Hold on while I send the ladder down."

With Doc's help, the ladder was dropped back in place. Caje handed down the M-1 and swung his legs through the hole. He noticed a worried look on Doc's face. "What's the matter, Doc?"

"I'm still kinda dizzy, Caje. What if I fall off?"

"Don't worry. I see Littlejohn down there and he'll catch you if you fall. Just go down the same way you came up. Close your eyes and go very slowly."

Deciding it would be better to let Doc go first, Caje leaned over and shouted to the guys below. "Hey, Sarge! I'm sending Doc down first. He's still dizzy so make sure you guys catch him if he falls off the ladder."

Closing his eyes like Caje suggested, Doc climbed down slowly. With only one good arm, he had to be extra careful. He felt hands on his back and legs, guiding him down. Once he was on solid ground again, he took a few steps on rubbery legs. He smiled his thanks when Kirby helped him to sit against the wall. It only took a moment for Caje to join the others.

Slapping Littlejohn on the back, Caje shook his head. "Sarge, your timing couldn't have been better. Those Germans were about to put a few holes us that we didn't need."

Squatting down to check on Doc, Sarge looked over his shoulder. "You can thank Nelson and Lt. Hanley. The lieutenant let us go as Baker Company was heading into the village. If Nelson hadn't made it back..." He left the sentence hanging, preferring not to think about the "what ifs".

Looking at him with a whole new respect, Caje rested a hand on Billy's shoulder. "You did good, Billy. You made the hard choice...but the right one. Thanks."

Shrugging it off as no big deal, Billy looked over to see Doc nodding his agreement. Looking back at Caje, he jerked his thumb in Doc's direction. "Is he okay? I mean, does he remember anything?"

"Don't worry, he's doing much better. He started remembering things a little while ago." Caje rolled his eyes. "You wouldn't believe the conversations we've had since you left."

Helping Doc to his feet, Saunders waved Billy over. "Come give me hand with Doc. Let's get these guys out of here, shall we?"

Looking up at the holes in the ceiling, Kirby whistled softly. "Hey Billy! Caje was right. Ya did good, kid."

His arm draped over Billy's shoulder, Doc felt him stiffen at the nickname. Finally deciding to say something, Billy frowned at the BAR man. "Hey, Kirby, don't call me �kid� anymore, okay? I pull my weight in this squad same as you do."

He was about to protest, but Kirby saw something when he looked at Billy. Something had changed. Billy was right...he was a soldier, just like the others. He'd been in a tough situation, but had come through with flying colors. "Sorry, Billy. I didn't mean anything by it."

Billy smiled, thankful for the apology. "That's okay, Kirby. Forget it."

As they made their way down the stairs, Kirby trailed behind the others. They'd regained Caje and Doc, but he couldn't help feeling that something was missing. That subtle innocence of Billy's was gone. He sighed. Another casualty. Kirby felt the loss...not just for Billy, but for all of them.

END