Chapter 1: Rhys Parks
Summer 1942. Camp Toccoa, Georgia.
"Rhys Parks, you've done it now, actually managing to snag a can of peaches from the mess hall." Private Tipper leaned back on his bunk, his eyes fixed on the can in Parks's hands. "But are you sure you're okay?"
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"I bet Parks was in such a hurry he's still feeling the after-effects of running into that pillar!" George Luz roared with laughter.
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At Luz's words, several other soldiers in the barracks burst out laughing. They all knew the story. Two days ago, during mealtime, Parks had snuck into the kitchen and made off with a can of peaches. In his haste to get away, he ran headfirst into a pillar just outside the kitchen and knocked himself out cold. Luckily, Perconte saw him, or he would have been caught red-handed.
Even so, the embarrassing story had spread throughout all of Easy Company. The only person who didn't know was the company commander, Lieutenant Herbert Sobel.
Rhys Parks shook his head and finally cracked a smile. "Alright, Luz, you'd better watch out for those two hundred condoms in your footlocker. If the 'Black Swan' finds out, he'll have you running Currahee. Hi-yo, Silver!"
The whole barracks erupted in a unified shout. "Three miles up, three miles down!"
"Parks, did you go through my footlocker?" Luz's face turned red.
"No, did I need to?" Parks was saying, just as a voice bellowed from outside.
"Second Platoon, E Company, fall in!"
"Damn it, that damned Sobel! Can't he give us a break? It's a day off!" Roy Cobb cursed.
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But no one was in the mood to listen. They all changed into their fatigues and quickly assembled on the parade ground outside the camp.
It was a round trip from the barracks to Currahee Mountain and back. Running up Currahee in full gear was a regular training exercise for Easy Company, said to be an invention of Herbert Sobel himself.
It was now noon, and the sun was scorching.
"I can't take it anymore!" Ed Tipper gasped, bent over with his hands on his knees. Sweat dripped from his hair, and his fatigues were completely soaked.
"Keep going, Ed!" The powerfully built Carwood Lipton, though also breathing heavily, slowed down to run alongside Ed Tipper.
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"You're a good man," Tipper managed a weak smile. A steep slope loomed ahead of them.
Rhys Parks was charging ahead, leading the pack. The slope was steep, but for Rhys Parks, this level of difficulty was nothing. He was like a different person now, filled with boundless energy. To him, this kind of training was child's play.
"He's a freak!" Cobb muttered to David Webster beside him, staring at Parks, who had already reached the summit. "You know, just a few days ago, he was always at the back of the pack."
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"Alright, Cobb, quit your complaining. If you don't make it up this hill, Sobel will have your hide!" Webster picked up his pace and passed Cobb.
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"Don't you think Parks seems a little different than before?" Cobb shouted after him.
"Yeah, yeah! And if you don't hurry up, Lieutenant Sobel's punishment for you will definitely be different than before! Let's go, Cobb, no more complaining!" Webster yelled back over his shoulder.
Parks 'was' different. He was no longer the Parks he used to be. It was a complicated situation. To God, it might have been a simple matter of a soul transmigrating, but for the original Parks and the soul now inhabiting his body, it was a complex and utterly maddening experience.
Parks had been an unlucky guy—he couldn't even steal a can of peaches without knocking himself out on a pillar. But that wasn't the worst of it. After he was knocked unconscious, he was no longer Parks. He was someone else, inhabited by another person's soul. The soul of a man from another world.
Honestly, the experience was too bizarre, complex and unbelievable.
But it was what it was. It wasn't that he didn't understand; it was that the world was a strange place. Just when you think you're on top of the world, it hits you over the head and sends you crashing down from heaven to earth.
There was no clear explanation for it, but a saying from the great Confucius gave him some comfort: Since you are here, be at peace with it.
Yes, since I'm here, I might as well accept it and stay.
As for how the current Parks had transformed from a physical laggard into a model soldier on the training field, the reason lay with Zhang Xiang himself.
Before his soul was transplanted, he had been a Chinese special agent, and one of the best. He was an expert in tri-phased combat, hand-to-hand fighting, and assassination, and was fluent in English, French, and German.
More importantly, he knew how to make the best adjustments to his body's functions and use the most efficient movements to achieve optimal training results.
Although the original unlucky Parks's physical condition wasn't great, after two days of adapting to this new body, Zhang Xiang had been able to adjust and now stood out during training. It wasn't that Parks was suddenly much stronger with Zhang Xiang's soul, but rather a result of superior body coordination. More importantly, the men of Easy Company were, for now, just recruits.
This was the 506th Regiment of the newly formed 101st Airborne Division of the United States Army, commanded by Colonel Sink.
Paratroopers were a brand-new type of military unit for the United States in 1942, and the men who joined came from all over the country with different backgrounds. Farmers, miners, some dirt-poor, others from well-off families, college students, policemen, and former reserve soldiers.
He was very familiar with this group, thanks to a television series based on a true story, directed by the Steven Spielberg: Band of Brothers.
It was an excellent series. The atmosphere of World War II, the deep bonds of brotherhood—these were things he had experienced in his own military life, so he adapted quickly. He had already begun to think of himself as this unlucky guy, Rhys Parks.
"Not bad, Private Rhys Parks! It looks like your training these past few days has paid off!" Herbert Sobel stood at the top of the slope, holding a stopwatch, and shouted loudly. "Looks like you've broken the record held by E Company's platoon leader, Dick Winters."
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"Thank you, sir!" Parks shouted back as loud as he could, even though he disliked the man, both in the TV series and in his present reality.
A moment later, Lieutenant Winters scrambled up the slope, followed closely by Denver Randleman.
"Private First Class Randleman, do you need to go to the infirmary? You look pathetic! Move it, move it! Your nickname shouldn't be 'Bull,' it should be 'Snail'!" Sobel yelled, waving his arms. "We made it up Currahee in 23 minutes. Maybe that's a good time for other companies, but it's not good enough for Easy! We are the best company! Move it!"
The scene was so familiar. Parks, starting to run back down the mountain, couldn't help but want to laugh, but he couldn't summon the energy. Even though he had been the fastest, he was nearing exhaustion. To regain the formidable physical state he once possessed, this body would have to endure much more cruel and rigorous training.
***
"I really can't take this anymore!" Private White grumbled in the barracks. He had been a reservist from a wealthy family, and this kind of hardship was beyond anything he had ever endured.
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"White! Have you forgotten why you came here?" Carwood Lipton stood at the barracks entrance, looking at White seriously. "The paratroopers are the most elite troops in the entire United States Army. Think about it, what could be more worthwhile than that?"
"Hey fellas! I've got good news!" At that moment, Donald Malarkey strode in. Seeing the men in the barracks, he couldn't help but smile. "Don't look so down. Lieutenant Sobel has shown some mercy today. Want to hear what it is?"
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"Don't mention that 'Black Swan' to me, Malarkey," White muttered under his breath.
"Alright, brothers, we have a pass for tonight! Sobel's finally given us a break. We can go to the bar and have some fun. Isn't that great news?"
"Hooah!" A cheer went up through the barracks. Even the gloomy-faced White couldn't help but crack a smile. For Easy Company, this was truly rare and welcome news.
"Let's just hope Sobel doesn't show up at the bar tonight," Parks said with a smile. He didn't hold as much resentment toward Sobel as the others; after all, for a former special agent, Sobel's training intensity wasn't that extreme. It was just that Sobel's presence was a real buzzkill.
The "bar" was really just one of the army's recreational facilities, which meant there were no beautiful women. That was the biggest disappointment for the men of Easy Company that night. But it didn't matter, because tonight they could drink to their hearts' content, and there would be no Lieutenant Sobel.
"Luz, get me another beer!" Joe Toye propped one foot on a chair by the bar, carefully tucking his pant leg into his jump boot.
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"Toye, when did you start blousing your trousers like that? You're not a real paratrooper yet. See, your pants are all wrinkled," Luz, already a bit tipsy, said from behind the bar as he brought over two beers. He was mimicking Lieutenant Sobel's way of speaking. It was his special talent—he could do perfect impressions of Lieutenant Sobel, Major Horton, and even Colonel Sink.
"Don't talk about that guy, he's a killjoy. George, just get me a beer!" Joe Toye, also a little drunk, watched Luz grinning smugly.
"Here you go!" George Luz handed him the beer, then raised his own glass.
Joe Toye and George Luz looked at each other, smiled, and then drained their beers in one go.
"Luz, get me a beer!" Parks walked over. He loved this kind of atmosphere; it was similar to his life in the military in his past life. Soldiers in barracks all over the world were the same—they were brothers.
"Alright, hang on!" Luz went and poured a beer, handing it to Parks.
Parks smiled at Luz and raised his glass.
"Haha..." George Luz and Joe Toye burst out laughing.
"What are you two laughing at?" Parks shrugged.
All three of them started laughing.
"Parks, you seem to have changed a lot these past couple of days," Joe Toye said, sizing Parks up.
"Of course," Parks grinned. "I'm strong now. Even Sobel has to admit I'm the most outstanding guy in Easy Company. He, of course, can only rank second."
"Oh, why are we talking about that guy again? Forget second place, he can't even do thirty standard push-ups. You guys believe that? Every time he leads us, he only does twenty," Luz said with a wink.
"Let's not talk about him, or I won't be able to drink another beer!" Toye looked up. "Hey, look. Lieutenant Compton is making a bet with someone again."
Parks looked over and saw a crowd gathered around Buck Compton, with several people egging them on.
"Looks like they're playing darts!" George Luz exclaimed excitedly. "Interested in checking it out?"
"Sure, let's go see," Parks said, and he and George Luz walked over, beers in hand.
"Wanna make a bet?" Compton yelled at Parks. "Look at them, they all want me to lose. Don't you want a chance to win too? We're betting big this time—ten dollars!"
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"Whoa, ten dollars! That's a lot!" George Luz was shocked. "Forget it, I'll just watch. Parks, you're a guy Lieutenant Sobel has his eye on, you know."
A buzz went through the crowd.
"Alright! Let's bet," Parks said, picking up a dart. "Of course, the match will be between me and Lieutenant Compton. If you're not afraid to lose your money, then bet on Buck to win!" He grinned at the crowd, then threw the dart.
The entire time, Parks faced the crowd, his gaze never once straying toward the dartboard. Then, as everyone stared in stunned silence, he made a gesture to Buck Compton, inviting him to take his turn.