"Assemble!" Commands echoed across Camp Aldbourne.
The three platoons of Easy Company had already packed their gear, formed up, and awaited the next order.
"I can't believe we're saying goodbye to England!" White whispered excitedly to Cobb beside him.
Cobb said nothing; he just felt his heart beating a little fast.
Yes, he was nervous!
He felt his face tighten, and he tried to give White a relaxed smile, but the muscles in his face twitched a few times, and no smile appeared.
"Don't be nervous. Don't you think it's a happy occasion that we're getting a free flight to France?" White's mood was the opposite of Cobb's; he was very excited, facing real combat for the first time.
Right now, he just wanted to raise his gun and shout, "Hey, Germans, you're all wiped out!" But he had to hold it in, which was also a kind of suffering; his heart was about to burst out.
"506th Regiment, Easy Company, First Platoon, move out!" Parks shouted loudly at the front of the formation.
It was too noisy here, with assembly whistles and commands intertwined, so he had to raise his voice.
"It's our turn, fellas!" Guarnere yelled loudly, "I can't wait!"
"Just think, when we drop out of the sky in front of those krauts, they'll be stunned," Joe Liebgott shouted at this moment, "Hey, surrender, Germans, I am sent by God to save you, forget your God—Hitler!"
Luz laughed from behind: "Joe, you should land in Berlin, so you can directly press your little butt on Hitler's face, and then the war will be over; he will be suffocated to death by you!"
A burst of laughter rippled through the ranks.
The previously somewhat suppressed atmosphere immediately dissipated.
The brothers of Easy Company joked with each other, as there was no sound control, and the formation also needed appropriate conversation to ease the pre-departure atmosphere.
Winters and Parks walked at the very front of the formation.
"It seems the brothers are in good spirits!" Winters said to Parks with satisfaction.
Parks nodded, looked back at the formation: "The situation is still good now, but we still can't ignore that perhaps some people are not as relaxed as they appear. When we reach our destination, an uncomfortable symptom will arise, and this is something we need to pay attention to."
"You're right!" Winters pondered for a moment, finding it very reasonable, then he turned his head and said, "Parks!"
"What? Sir?"
"After we arrive, have a good talk with the brothers."
"Understood!" Parks agreed. Even if Winters hadn't said it, he would have talked to them. Not to mention these rookies preparing for their first battle, even someone like himself, who had been through constant conflicts in his previous life, couldn't avoid excitement when facing such a historic great battle.
As the formation advanced, a road appeared before them.
That was Hungerford Road in Aldbourne, and a long queue of trucks, whose ends were out of sight, was parked along the roadside.
It was even livelier here, because word had spread that the Americans were deploying, and almost half of Aldbourne's local population came to see them off, including almost all the young women.
When Easy Company's formation arrived here, they no longer maintained their formation.
They were surrounded by the locals; enthusiastic people and passionate girls, all wanting to offer their blessings at this moment.
After all, these American soldiers were hope.
Not only did they hope they could defeat the Germans, but they also hoped they could return alive.
"Your name!" Luz gnawed on a girl's face, then eagerly asked, "I need to know your name, maybe I'll come back for you someday! We might even get married or have a bunch of little Lutzes!"
"Liv! Call me Liv!" The girl hugged Luz tightly, then pressed his head firmly against her surging chest, which looked like an embrace, yet something felt off.
Luz struggled desperately, freeing his head from the trap of the tender bosom, then happily took a deep breath: "I almost died, Liv. You almost buried me alive, but I can't yet. I haven't made those krauts run away with their tails between their legs yet. I'm the strongest guy in our company, even our First Sergeant Parks has to admit defeat!"
"Is that so? Then I'll wait for you to come back, my dear." The girl stroked Luz's face, "Then let me experience your power!"
"Alright, Luz, we need to get on the truck!" Parks yelled to him from not far away.
"See, that's our First Sergeant Parks, pretty handsome, right? But he can never compare to me, at least not in stamina!" Luz struggled out of the girl's embrace, then blew her a kiss while hurrying towards Parks.
Of course, some guys weren't much better than Luz.
At least Patrick Christenson was one of them; he was suffocated to death by a girl with big hips and breasts, then pulled by Malarkey, dizzy and disoriented, towards the truck.
"Hey, Parks, this is for you!" Parks was sitting on the truck when White climbed up, holding three cans in his arms, "Although it's not cherry canned goods, the British canned goods are a bit hard to eat, but make do with it!"
At this moment, Wynne, who was next to him, reached out to grab one of the other two cans: "Give me this one! You don't need so many."
"No, don't even think about it!" White quickly pushed his hand away, "I still need to trade him for cigarettes."
Parks took it, and couldn't help but laugh: "It seems you haven't gotten lost in the girls' chests; at least you got something practical for yourself.
Look at those guys, so dizzy from the girls they don't even know where the front of the truck is!"
"This is the last hurrah!" White nodded.
This sentence silenced everyone in the truck, completely ignoring the lively farewell still happening outside.
The last hurrah, it simply struck a chord with what some of the brothers were feeling right now.
"Depart!" The command came from the front.
The truck finally started.
It began to move slowly forward.
And the tear-streaked faces of the girls, their high chests, and their white arms moving like a forest, gradually receded into the distance.
The surroundings gradually quieted down, leaving only the monotonous sound of the car's engine, and everyone fell silent collectively.
After such a special farewell, Parks suddenly felt an emptiness in his heart, losing interest in speaking.
He looked at the brothers around him; some were still gazing at Aldbourne slowly fading into the distance, some had their heads bowed low, some looked at the gray sky, but no one spoke.
A full two years of training, almost uninterrupted.
The brothers endured unusual difficulties and hardships, and now their bodies, as Sobel said, were noble and unrivaled steeds.
The brothers were no longer the chaotic civilians who first entered the camp; now they were disciplined warriors, ready to execute orders without hesitation.
They were as familiar with their weapons as they were with their own limbs; they skillfully mastered various war techniques and were familiar with coordination among brothers.
They could trek endlessly and charge in adverse weather.
Now, the brothers of Easy Company trusted their officers and trusted their brothers around them.
In Easy Company, they became the best of friends, already like family, ready to sacrifice themselves for such brothers, and more importantly, they would eliminate more enemies for their brothers.
The officers and men of Easy Company left Aldbourne with both confidence and fear.
"Is it worth it?" Cobb suddenly asked White, who was sitting next to him.
In his opinion, White seemed quite optimistic about the future.
This was something he envied, and even felt a little jealous of.
"What?" White, who had been engrossed in the silence of the sky, seemed to have suddenly woken up and asked subconsciously.
Cobb said no more.
"It is worth it!" This was said by Parks, who was sitting next to White.
Cobb looked at Parks, his eyes somewhat bewildered: "You think so too?"
"Yes, Cobb!" Parks said, "Don't worry about whether it's worth it or not.
We are going to be air-dropped into France, that's a fact; whether it's worth it or not has no meaning anymore.
On the battlefield, just remember that our greatest fortune is being able to fight together."
"I agree!" At this moment, Heffron, who had been dozing with his head down, suddenly raised his head and said.
"We've been preparing for this day for two years!" Luz also interjected, "I don't want to be sent back before I even parachute; I'd be too embarrassed to tell the folks back home.
I have to go to France, and finally be able to see Hitler captured by my own hands, then I'll step on him, take a picture, and send it back, that way I'll be a hero in my hometown."
"And, of course, win the favor of many beautiful women, right?" Heffron chuckled.
"Yes, that's exactly what I was thinking!" Luz grinned proudly.
At this moment, a faint roar came from the sky, a sound they were all very familiar with—the sound of C-47 transport planes, and the whistling of fighter jets.
Planes appearing in the sky meant they were not far from their destination—Erbote Airport.
"Alright, brothers, pack your gear; we're leaving England." Parks clapped his hands, everyone perked up, and then tidied their belongings.
The trucks stopped in a large open area at Erbote Airport, the tailgates were opened, and the soldiers jumped down from the trucks one after another, stepping onto their departure point, from where they would embark on the road to Germany.
The area within ten miles of Erbote Airport had become a large military camp. There were spire-like tents everywhere, and brothers disguised as German soldiers walked around the camp.
"Malarkey, look at those guys, swaggering around here in German clothes," Hubler said, looking at a few guys wearing German officer uniforms with lugers at their waists, feeling somewhat unwilling.
"Is that a luger?" Malarkey's eyes lit up slightly; he had long made up his mind to find a luger on the battlefield.
Hubler chuckled, "Wait, I'll go say hello!" With that, he walked towards the disguised German soldiers passing by, greeting them from a distance.
"Hey, which company are you guys from? Don't look familiar, buddies!" Hubler stepped forward with a smile.
The guy in the German officer uniform laughed, "We're British, not those damn Germans. What? Did we scare you? These were all rushed from Herman's tailor shop."
"Is that a luger?" Hubler pointed at the guy's waist, smiling eagerly, "I'd really like to touch a real luger."
"Of course!" The guy pulled out his luger and handed it to Hubler, looking at Hubler's eager eyes and smiling proudly, "It's a really good gun, isn't it?"
Hubler took it, rubbed it repeatedly, then raised the gun and made an aiming gesture.
"Wow, it's really great!"
The guy still smiled proudly, "This is high-grade stuff."
Hubler nodded and said, "Exactly, what a beautiful baby!" Then he turned and walked towards Malarkey, shouting loudly, "Hey, Malarkey, this is a real luger!" As he spoke, he raised the gun in his hand.
"Hey, buddy, don't push your luck!" The guy couldn't help but frown.
Hubler was stunned, then chuckled awkwardly, walking back and saying, "Sorry, pal, here you go!" With a reluctant look, he returned the gun to the guy.
"Someday I'll have one too!" Hubler said, watching the guys walk away, feeling somewhat unwilling, "I promise my gun will be captured from the Germans. Then you guys will die of shame!"
"But I think I should get it before you!" Malarkey chuckled, then patted Hubler's shoulder. "Alright, don't be down. Let's go to the mess hall. This time I want roast chicken, and preferably fruit cocktail."
The mess hall was where the square tents were set up.
"Kids, have some more. Eat whatever you want." The chubby chef with a full beard always had a smiling face. "After the roast chicken, you can also have some juice and dessert."
"I like buttered white bread!" Cobb said to Parks, holding his plate. "I think I still need to eat something, roast chicken? Or fruit wine." Cobb said this with a bulging belly.
"Don't stuff yourself, Cobb!" Parks couldn't help but laugh.
"I know, but I still have to eat!" Cobb chuckled, "I feel like I'm being fattened up, waiting to be sent to the slaughterhouse. But, I need to eat even more!"
"Are you trying to be like that doctor?" At this moment, White, who was eating roast chicken nearby, suddenly interjected.
Cobb's face immediately turned red. He said to White discontentedly, "Don't say it so harshly, White. If I wanted to do that, I would have done it a long time ago. Why wait until now?"
The doctor they were talking about was a medical officer from Battalion HQ. The day before, he suddenly fell ill in his tent, suffering from severe vomiting and diarrhea. In the end, there was no choice but to send him back to the rear. But the final examination result showed that he had taken some medication himself to make himself sick. His intention was very clear: he didn't want to land in France. He had become a deserter.
The entire 506th Regiment already knew about this incident. Although a very small number of people shared the same thoughts as that doctor, most of them treated the doctor as a joke!
On June 2nd, as Winters was discussing where they should land this time with Lieutenant Mihan, the camp gate opened. It was Lieutenant Nixon, who was already an intelligence officer at Battalion HQ, and Captain Hurst, the training officer.
"Oh, look who's here!" Lieutenant Mihan smiled and motioned for them to sit down. "Speak, I know what you're up to."
"Just like Dick understands me!" Nixon joked, then said to Captain Hurst, "Alright, I'll deliver the briefing." As he spoke, he took out a map and many aerial photographs.
"Oh, this is amazing! Roads, buildings, even foxholes are clearly visible," Lieutenant Mihan whistled as he flipped through the stack of photos. He then unfolded the map, which detailed the terrain features, houses, roads, dunes, and other conditions.
"Easy Company will parachute approximately ten kilometers south of the Church of Sainte-Mère-Église, near Sainte-Marie-du-Mont. The objective is to eliminate the German defenders in the village and seize the exit of Causeway No. 2, which is the road leading from the beach to the north of the village of Boubévillle. The mission of the 3rd Platoon is to blow up the communication lines leading inland from Madrid." Nixon said.
"We have no backup?" Winters suddenly asked, "Or is it cooperation between several companies?"
"No!" Nixon couldn't help but smile, "You'll have to rely on yourselves or God."
"This is truly a good plan!" Mihan couldn't help but smile bitterly. After the airdrop, they would be in an isolated and helpless situation. In other words, they shouldn't expect any kind of support.
"Don't complain, Dick! This is what paratroopers are. We are born to be surrounded. We should have known this from the first day we joined Easy Company." Nixon nodded, "Perhaps God will be on our side."
Who would God bless? The Americans or the Germans?
After the combat mission was issued to the company, the company also held a platoon-level combat meeting. Winters and the other platoon leaders respectively led their subordinates into the tent designated as the briefing room, showing them the sand table and maps, and informing them of what they knew.
Many people gathered in the tent, feeling very hot. They took off their shirts and gathered around. Then Lieutenant Mihan assigned tasks to each platoon.
"I can't hold it anymore, I'm going to pee!" Guarnere stood up at this moment, grabbed a piece of clothing, and walked out.
After he sat down, he reached into his pocket, wanting to pull out a cigarette, but instead pulled out a letter.
"Dear John!" Guarnere looked at it and saw it was Sergeant Martin's letter. "Looks like this is his wife's letter." Guarnere put the letter away and searched for cigarettes everywhere, but couldn't find any. With nothing to do, he pulled the letter out again.
"Oh, John, don't blame me! I really have nothing to do. You know, I usually smoke on the toilet." Guarnere chuckled, then unfolded the letter in his hand. "Perhaps I should learn from this how to sweet-talk a girl!"
"Don't tell Guarnere that his brother has died in Cassino, Italy!" Guarnere suddenly froze when he read this. He felt as if his thoughts had suddenly disappeared, and it took him a long time to come back to his senses.
"Damn krauts!" Guarnere gritted his teeth. "Just you wait, I'll send you bastards, demons of the world, and bitches all to hell."
When Guarnere returned to the tent, his face was gloomy, and of course, only Martin knew why.
"You saw it all?" After the meeting, Martin deliberately walked with Guarnere.
"Yes, I saw it, Martin! I'll make those motherf***ing krauts pay!" Guarnere was beyond furious. "I'm so eager to go to the battlefield now. Fly, fly, fly to Berlin, I want to kill them all."
"Don't get excited, brother!" Martin stepped forward and squeezed his hand. "That day will come. You have your brothers to help you, kill all those sons of bitches!"
Parks watched the two talking from a distance, and seeing Guarnere's sorrowful expression, he knew what had happened. Guarnere had learned about his brother.
"Guarnere, what's wrong?" Parks stepped forward and asked.
Guarnere had a good impression of Parks, and even if Martin told Parks about it, he didn't mind. There was only a fierce glint in his eyes.
"Don't tell the other brothers!" Parks suddenly whispered to Martin.
"I know." Martin nodded.
At this time, the evening glow already enveloped the entire Erbote Airport. People outside the noisy military camp were gradually entering their tents. Parks patted their shoulders, "Let's go!"
Guarnere stared fiercely at the sky, then turned and went back to the tent with Martin.
Parks looked up at the sky, which was still cloudy. Today was June 3rd. In just over a day, he would take off from here and airdrop onto French soil across the sea.
The night, like a giant beast, opened its enormous mouth and swallowed everything around it with darkness.
Normandy, like a quiet maiden, silently awaited the beautiful parachutes about to descend from the sky.