"We should talk to him, but are you sure talking to him will be effective?" Guarnere looked at Malarkey and shook his head.
Malarkey shrugged and shook his head; he wasn't very familiar with Donald.
"Let Lipton do it!" Guarnere looked at Donald, then walked over to Lipton, who was talking with his brothers not far away.
Lipton was now the First Platoon's First Sergeant, making him the most suitable candidate.
"Lipton!" Guarnere called out.
"Hey, want to show off your spoils?" Lipton was in a good mood when he saw Guarnere; he and Guarnere already had a good relationship.
"Well, I didn't find anything, don't look at me like that."
"No, look at that guy!" Guarnere pointed in Donald's direction, "I think you'd better talk to him, otherwise, he'll be useless in that state."
Lipton looked and frowned.
"Is it because of Brown?" Lipton asked.
Then he saw Guarnere nod.
Donald truly experienced the pain of losing a brother beside him, and he didn't even have the mood to do anything else.
It was his first time participating in an urban assault, and the cruel reality almost knocked him down.
Although it made him more courageous and impulsive from his initial nervousness and fear, he still couldn't escape the pain.
As for Brown, when Donald was at his lowest, feeling almost isolated by the brothers in the company, Brown understood him and became his friend, and Brown's combat experience helped him greatly.
The scene of Brown being shot always involuntarily appeared before his eyes.
The spray of blood in the air…
Desperate eyes…
And the piece of paper in his hand, trembling slightly in the wind!
That was the letter Brown was preparing to send back to his wife.
He had been married for less than three years.
He was originally a farmer from the countryside, and for the fifty dollars a month paratrooper salary, he went to Taccoa Barracks and joined Easy Company.
"…I'll save enough money soon, and we can buy a large piece of land, we can build a farm… I believe the war will end soon.
The officers all said that we landed in Normandy by surprise, and the Germans were scared… Maybe I can still make it for the birth of our little baby, if it's a daughter, she'll definitely be as charming as you, of course, if it's a boy, he should be like me, handsome and dashing, just like how I charmed you back then… I love you, baby, I love my soon-to-be-born baby, wait for me! Your loving Brown!"
This piece of paper was stained with blood, which had dried and formed dark red marks, making the paper mottled and worn.
Donald carefully folded the letter and put it into his personal pocket.
He himself didn't know how to deal with this letter.
He didn't have the courage to personally hand this letter to Brown's wife, especially since he might also face Brown's child, whom he had never seen.
He even regretted it a bit, why such a difficult choice fell upon him; it would have been better if that damned German sniper had hit him instead, perhaps it wouldn't be so difficult.
"Is that Brown's letter?" Donald suddenly heard a voice from beside him.
He looked up and glanced.
"Sergeant Lipton!" Donald looked at him with some surprise.
It seemed that during this time, apart from Brown, few brothers from Easy Company had initiative and talked to him.
Lipton sat down next to him, looked at the letter in his hand, and asked again, "Is it Brown's? I heard, Donald, we're very sorry about that too!"
"Yes! It's Brown's." Donald covered his face with his hands, "I owe him, but I don't know what to do?"
Saying that, he handed the letter in his hand to Lipton.
Lipton took it, quickly scanned it, then returned the letter to Donald.
This letter undoubtedly touched him too.
Lipton took a deep breath, looked at Donald and said, "What are you going to do?"
"I don't know, Lipton, I'm not good at this! I'm afraid I don't have the courage to face his family!" Donald's tone was very despondent.
Lipton nodded, "If it were me, I wouldn't have the courage either.
But, Donald, you must personally deliver this letter to his wife.
That will always be much better than those expressionless officers back home doing it."
"But…" Donald wanted to say something else, but couldn't utter a word.
He didn't know what to say now.
Perhaps Lipton was right; if he personally handed the letter to his wife, it would be the last bit of comfort for Brown's family.
"Alright, Donald, don't think so much.
This is war, brothers are constantly getting injured, some are killed; this is something we can't avoid.
Since we can't avoid it, we have to face all of it.
This is all the damned war's fault, not yours!" Lipton stood up, then nodded at Donald, "You are one of the brothers in Easy Company, we are all brothers, aren't we?"
With that, Lipton turned and left.
He felt he had said what he should, and if Donald remained like this, then he would be powerless.
This was war, and the pressure and pain everyone faced would be no less than Donald's; everyone had to learn to adapt slowly.
"Thank you, Lipton!" Lipton had only walked a few steps when he heard Donald's voice from behind.
Lipton couldn't help but shake his head and smile.
In the entire Easy Company, there were probably still some soldiers like Donald, after all, some were participating in a real large-scale battle for the first time, and there were also casualties among the brothers, which would more or less affect the mindset of some people.
But most people could get through it, especially those who had participated in many battles; they had already adapted to the various special and unexpected situations on the battlefield.
The soldiers were in twos and threes, many basking in the sun on the concrete steps outside the warehouse.
The sun was out now, a bit dazzling, but shining on the body, it made one feel warm.
When Lipton returned to Guarnere's side, they were still discussing how to acquire a luger in combat.
Being able to get a luger was almost the highest demand for spoils of war for many on the battlefield.
"Malarkey, I heard you captured a luger?" At this moment, Patrick Christenson walked over from the side.
Malarkey's expression became very unpleasant; he grumpily said to Patrick Christenson, "Who told you that nonsense? But I'll get one someday, don't worry."
"I want to find one too!" Patrick Christenson seemed a bit regretful, "But that thing is too hard to find.
So far, if you don't count the one you just spread rumors about, it seems only Parks in the whole company has one."
"Not even Winters?" Malarkey asked.
"Parks is too lucky!" Guarnere smacked his lips with a tsk-tsk sound.
Lipton smiled, just about to say something, when he suddenly saw a person limping towards them.
Seeing Lipton looking at him, he grinned slightly.
"Hey, guys, look who it is.
Our hero, Parks!" Guarnere also noticed Parks walking towards them, and couldn't help but stand up, take a few steps forward, open his arms, and hug Parks tightly.
"Did you see it? This wound on Parks's face makes him look even more like an ancient Roman gladiator." Guarnere's exaggerated tone made everyone around him laugh.
"Are you alright?" Lipton also came over and hugged Parks, looking at the bandaged area on his thigh.
"I'm fine, besides a little difficulty walking, it doesn't affect me continuing to fight the Germans!" Parks smiled, then shook hands with the surrounding brothers one by one.
"We were just talking about you!" Malarkey's spirits immediately lifted when he saw Parks.
"Talking bad about me?" Parks joked.
"It's the luger!" Patrick Christenson was straightforward, "To be honest, I'm very jealous now.
You're the only one in the entire company who captured a luger; you don't know how much jealousy you've stirred up, including Malarkey!"
"Hey, Patrick Christenson, don't drag me into this! What does that have to do with me? It's you, isn't it!" Malarkey glared at Patrick Christenson somewhat angrily, clearly a little embarrassed and annoyed.
"Take it out and let us see, or let us fire a few rounds too." Patrick Christenson completely ignored Malarkey's anger; he said to Parks with some eagerness, his face full of anticipation.
"Why not?" Parks took the luger out of his pocket, loaded it with bullets, and handed it to Patrick Christenson, "Be careful, watch out for accidental discharge."
"Hey, Patrick Christenson, wait for me, I'll go try it too!" Malarkey completely forgot that he had just been angry with Patrick Christenson; seeing the luger, he forgot all about it.
He quickly followed him.
"Look at these kids." Lipton looked at the two of them, shaking his head and smiling.
Parks also couldn't help but smile, then looked at Donald not far away, and said to Lipton, "How is he? Brown's death was no small blow to him."
"I just talked to him, I think he'll get through it." Lipton nodded.
"Well done, Lipton!" Parks patted his arm.
"Go to the company headquarters!" Lipton suddenly said to Parks, "I heard Winters is very worried about you, perhaps if you go yourself, it can completely put his mind at ease!"
Parks nodded.
He also happened to want to go to the company headquarters just now.
If he was to lead First Platoon with his injury, he would need Winters's permission.
"Are you sure you're not affected?" Winters frowned, looking at the bandaged area on Parks' thigh, seemingly trying to determine if he was fit to continue fighting.
"Don't push it, Parks!" Nixon poured three glasses of wine, handed one to Welsh, one to Parks, and raised one himself, gesturing to the two before taking a sip. But he clearly wasn't optimistic about Parks' injury.
"We need to be careful with this!" Welsh raised his glass and took a large gulp. He wasn't used to Nixon's small sips; it just wasn't satisfying enough.
"I know my own condition, Harry. My body is great, this injury is nothing, and besides, I've already received the best treatment." Parks drained his glass in one go, even more swiftly than Welsh. "I'm still very strong!" He said, flexing his arm to show off his muscles.
"I bet this guy is still as strong as an ox," Welsh said with a grin, punching Parks on the shoulder.
Winters pondered for a moment. He knew Parks was very important to the company; his value had already been demonstrated in the past few days of fighting. He didn't want him to take risks, but he also didn't want him to leave. If he had to recover from his injuries, it would take at least several days, which was undoubtedly bad news for Easy Company, which was constantly in a state of combat tension.
"Alright, you can stay!" Winters nodded helplessly, still harboring some selfish thoughts. "But, if your body shows any problems, I will absolutely send you to the rear hospital. That's my bottom line!"
"Thank you, Dick!" Parks grinned, then handed his glass to Nixon. "Is there any more wine? This wine tastes excellent, how about another glass?"
Nixon gave a wry smile and nodded, "Of course, this is aged whiskey. It's meant to be savored slowly. Don't drink like Harry; only drunkards drink like that."
Welsh shrugged at Nixon: "Don't forget, Dick has a barrel of good wine hidden here too, and we all get a share." With that, the three of them burst into laughter.
Winters looked at the three men, shaking his head and smiling helplessly.
In the company headquarters, four men were chatting and laughing when someone knocked on the door.
Parks walked over and opened the door. It was Sergeant Fix from Battalion HQ. He first nodded and smiled slightly at Parks, then scanned the people in the room, his gaze settling on Lieutenant Winters.
"I'm sorry, I have to interrupt you!" Fix respected Winters greatly, due to the series of victories Winters had achieved since D-Day. His reputation in Battalion HQ was now soaring. Many soldiers and Sergeants respected him greatly.
"What is it?" Winters smiled slightly.
Fix quickly smiled and said, "Lieutenant Colonel Strayer and Major Horton asked me to come and get you to Battalion HQ."
"Understood!" Winters nodded. "I'll be right there!"
Fix smiled and said, "Thank you, Lieutenant." Then he looked at Nixon. "Captain, I'm afraid you'll have to come along too, because Lieutenant Colonel Strayer also instructed that you come with him."
Nixon shrugged and spread his hands, looking quite helpless.
Watching the three of them leave, Welsh smiled at Parks: "Let's sit down too. Maybe we can try that barrel of wine from last time. This is Easy Company's first relatively major victory, we have to celebrate."
"Why not?" Parks smiled.
Welsh poured two glasses of wine, handed one to Parks, and then the two clinked their glasses, making a clear 'clink' sound.
"To victory!" Parks said with a smile.
"To whiskey!" Welsh chuckled, "I like spoils of war, German ones."
"To whiskey" was a very vivid phrase. Now, in the hearts of many brothers in Easy Company, being able to scavenge the whiskey hidden by the German was the most joyful thing. This was a reward for the victors, so many people were searching for good liquor throughout the city during their rest periods.
"Do you think we can enter Berlin before Christmas?" Welsh sat comfortably in his chair, then began to taste the whiskey, imitating Nixon.
"What do you think?" Parks paused at Welsh's words, suddenly feeling that the brothers in Easy Company were all enveloped in an optimistic mood for a quick victory. They believed the Germans would be driven out soon and the war would end before Christmas. This kind of emotion was clearly not good for the current Easy Company; once they suffered a major setback, morale would drop very quickly.
"Judging by how we took Carrington today, the German's luck has run out, so we should take advantage of this now and enjoy ourselves, Parks!" Welsh drained his glass, stood up, and refilled his cup.
"I don't see it that way, Harry!" Parks shook his head. He had to pour some cold water on Easy Company's optimism.
"Why?" Welsh frowned, looking at him with some urgency.
"Do you think it's going smoothly? Yes, it seems we are indeed going very smoothly now." Parks nodded. "Harry, have you ever thought about it? We landed on D-Day, very smoothly. This is because the German fell for our trick; they were fooled by us. For example, they were tied down by a large number of troops by an empty shell of a General Patton. So, at first, the resistance we encountered wasn't strong, simply because they were unprepared. But..."
Parks sighed at this point: "But once the German come to their senses, they will organize effective resistance. After all, this road leads to Germany."
"Are you saying we'll face very stubborn resistance in the future?" Welsh looked at Parks, then nodded, "That's not a wrong idea, but our strength is much greater than the German's."
This optimism could not easily fade in the face of victory. Parks knew it was hard to convince them, and he certainly couldn't act like a prophet, gesticulating in front of officers or offering suggestions and strategic analyses to superiors. This would only make them annoyed and scornful of him, thinking he was just a crazy guy trying to get promoted. Moreover, the guys in the high command couldn't possibly not know what the future held; they fully understood, but there were other vested interests among their high-ranking officials, leading to unfavorable war progress. This was inevitable, and even if they knew the process beforehand, some things would still happen as they were.
Perhaps he could only talk to some of the brothers in the company. Parks felt a bit helpless; at least he could prepare the brothers mentally, so they wouldn't lose morale if they suddenly suffered a defeat.
Optimism even spread to Battalion HQ. Of course, their optimism was tempted by victory. Their assumptions were not much better than the soldiers'. This was a top-down optimism, with commanders infecting officers, and officers infecting soldiers, just like a plague spreading.
"Do you know what that demon in Germany said about us?" In Battalion HQ, Horton seemed very happy. He waved his hands excitedly, as if giving a speech. "He said: 'Oh, thank God, those fools have finally landed.' Yes, now we 'fools' have landed, and we're even going to Berlin to catch him ourselves."
"The General Staff's estimates are very optimistic; some even say the war could end by Christmas," Colonel Strehl said with a smile. "Winters, what do you think? Christmas?"
Winters smiled and said, "Sir, I don't make any predictions. Let those commanders rack their brains. Perhaps Major Horton is right, we are just some fools who traveled thousands of miles to England, then crossed the English Channel to become Europe's liberators and Germany's invaders, it's that simple."
"That's an interesting way of putting it!" Colonel Strehl said.
"Easy Company performed very well today. I have already informed Colonel Sink, and he is very satisfied with your performance. General Taylor is also very pleased with your performance. Taking Carrington is very important to us," Horton interjected.
"Thank you, Sir." Winters smiled slightly, then said, "But this battle has exhausted the brothers; they might need rest. The fighting was too tough."
"I know, Easy Company has always been the pride of Second Battalion, which is why I decided to assign today's most crucial assault to Easy Company. The current results prove that my decision was very correct." Colonel Strehl showed a slight thoughtful expression. "But our current situation is not optimistic, Easy Company must bear its responsibility."
"Yes, I know!" Winters was somewhat helpless.
"Alright, Winters, we all know that the importance of Carrington is as great to us as it is to the German, so the German will certainly try to reclaim it after losing it, and they will definitely go all out. We must be prepared." Horton nodded, then said to Winters with some solemnity.
"Sir, what does Easy Company need to do?" Winters' face was serious.
"The German will definitely counterattack, and they will certainly come from the southwest, taking the same path your Easy Company took during the attack." Colonel Strehl liked Winters' serious attitude towards work, so he nodded.
Terrain is an important factor in determining the progress of operations. Entering Carrington from that direction required passing through that peninsula-like highland. To the north of the railway line and to the south of the road, the land was flooded.
"General Taylor has decided to advance a few kilometers west and construct defensive positions on the high ground." Colonel Strehl pointed to the map of the Carrington area. "Easy Company will be deployed on the far right, along the railway."
"Understood! Sir!" Winters nodded. Everyone in Battalion HQ looked at him and said nothing more. Winters felt he should take his leave. He walked towards the door.
"Winters!" Colonel Strehl called out to him from behind.
"What, Sir?" Winters turned around and asked.
"Is Parks injured? How is he now?" It turned out that Battalion HQ also knew about Parks' condition, so Colonel Strehl asked.
"He should be fine. He can participate in the counterattack against the German," Winters said calmly.
Colonel Strehl nodded, then smiled, "That's good, he performed quite well. Get ready!" This was Colonel Strehl's attitude towards Easy Company.
The soldiers of Easy Company, after a fierce battle, comfortably stretched their minds and bodies; although there was no hot shower yet, they could relax completely.
With D Company and F Company responsible for outer perimeter security, what more was there to worry about?
"Malarkey, if the war ends before Christmas, I don't think your chances of getting a luger are very high!" Patrick Christenson always liked to dampen Malarkey's enthusiastic chatter.
"Get ready, we're about to move out again!" A voice came from beside them.
Everyone looked over; it was Lieutenant Speirs.
"Enjoy the sunshine while you can," he said, passing through the group.
"Don't they know we just got here and went through a tough battle?" Christenson said this, clearly unhappy with the news.
Speirs turned back to look at Christenson, smiling slightly, "Yes." Then he walked away.
"Damn it!" Christenson cursed.
Malarkey couldn't help but pull a long face: "It seems the better Easy Company performs, the more likely those officers are to remember us and then desperately send us on dangerous missions like this or that. I've figured it out."
"Speirs?" Guarnere didn't respond to Malarkey. He smiled at Christenson and said, "You're done for. Are you sure what you just said wasn't cursing him? He's a wolf."
Christenson said irritably, "So what if he's a wolf? What if he's a wolf? I'm just complaining, Easy Company isn't the only company in the Second Battalion."
Guarnere chuckled, "To the Germans, he's a wolf. Do you know about him killing prisoners? Over a dozen Germans, he just took them out, hehe!"
"What's that got to do with me?" Christenson muttered, somewhat displeased.
"Be careful he doesn't take you out on the battlefield!" Guarnere chuckled, "I'd rather be taken out by the Germans than offend a guy like that. It keeps you on edge."
The soldiers of Easy Company received news that they were about to participate in a new defensive battle, to encircle Carrington. Clearly, they would again be positioned on the outer perimeter to intercept the German forces.
"This really isn't good news!" Cobb seemed very angry; he couldn't help but shout loudly.
But the others remained silent; they were quiet. The brothers had a resentment in their hearts. This resentment largely stemmed from the damage suffered during the attack on Carrington, as well as extreme tension and exhaustion.
"Parks is here, why not ask him what he says?" At this moment, White suddenly spoke, then saw Parks appear at the warehouse door; he had just come from the company headquarters.
Parks had received his mission assignment from Winters at the company headquarters. To be honest, he knew this battle was unavoidable, but what was important now was not how to avoid combat, but how to calm the brothers' emotions and get them into the fight.
"Parks, is there a problem?" Winters noticed the expression on Parks' face and couldn't help but ask, "Speak up, we can discuss it together."
Parks nodded and said, "It's like this. Our company has been assigned the main assault on Carrington this time, and many of the brothers are very tired. They were hoping for a rest, and for another company to take over this interception mission. But…" He spread his hands, looking helpless.
"You're worried about the brothers' morale?" Winters nodded, "That certainly deserves attention."
"We need to talk to them," Compton nodded from nearby.
Not just him, Welsh and Nixon also felt this was very necessary. A company without morale would certainly see its combat efficiency greatly reduced.
"We don't have enough men!" Winters also seemed helpless, "But we have to hold Carrington. Alright, Parks, your suggestion is very good. Each of you talk to the brothers in your platoons! Then we'll prepare to depart!"
Parks left the company headquarters and went directly to his platoon; time was short, and Easy Company's operation was about to begin.
"Parks, are we moving out?" White shouted at Parks. His voice attracted the other brothers in the platoon, who looked at Parks eagerly, hoping to get definite news from him.
"Yes, guys!" Parks nodded, "We're going to hold Carrington, and we'll deploy along the railway, fighting on the high ground to intercept the German counterattack."
"Oh—" At this point, many people began to groan in disappointment, "No way! We've been fighting for a day already, why no rest before fighting the Germans to the death?"
Parks shook his head and said loudly, "Alright, brothers, this is our duty. Don't forget why we're here. I feel the same way as all of you, but war is like this: it's either you die or I live. Don't expect Battalion HQ or battalion headquarters, or even the Germans, to give us a comfortable fight; that's unrealistic. Since we chose to be soldiers, we have no other choice. Let's all cheer up! If we can repel the Germans, our good days will come, and we have to fight for that ourselves. Don't count on God!"
"Alright, Parks, we admit you have a point!" Guarnere had entered the warehouse at some point. He stood up, "Guys, get ready to go. Drive the Germans away, and we'll go home for Christmas."
"I'll lead the charge!" Patrick Christenson, holding his submachine gun, also stood up.
At that moment, someone outside the warehouse shouted loudly, "Easy Company, assemble! We're moving out!"
Parks gestured to Patrick Christenson, then shouted loudly, "Easy Company First Platoon, form a marching column, move out!" The soldiers in the warehouse instantly stood up with a rustle and automatically formed a column.
Easy Company set off again, advancing along the railway, with First Platoon at the very front of the company. At this time, it was also raining lightly, making the entire road muddy, and the mud was particularly sticky, clinging to their shoes, making their steps feel heavier and heavier.
"Luz, how much further do we have to go?" Patrick Christenson couldn't help but speak, "This damn road is really torturous." He couldn't help but shake the mud off his shoes; a large clump of mud flew off the bottom of his shoe and hit Cobb on the head.
"Damn it! You hit me." Cobb turned his head and glared at Patrick Christenson, then picked up a clump of mud from the road and threw it at Patrick Christenson, who dodged it.
"I don't know either, Patrick Christenson!" Luz shook his head, also somewhat helpless, "Just keep going straight until they tell us to stop, then we'll stop."
"To the high ground ahead!" Hubler interjected, "Soon."
Patrick Christenson couldn't help but complain again, "Alright, genius, then you tell me, why is Easy Company the only company that's either leading the charge or exposed on the front lines like this, always keeping you on edge?"
"We've never marched in the middle!" Patrick Christenson grew more animated, "And we're only the fifth company in the battalion headquarters, from A Company to I Company, think about it?"
"How have we never marched in the middle?" Parks said with a laugh from not far away, "At least on the night we moved towards Carrington, we were in the middle, with F Company leading the way."
Then he added, "However, the people at battalion headquarters have probably realized by now that sending F Company to lead the charge was clearly a major blunder, which often led to us losing contact with them. So, as you can all see, that's why Easy Company is always deployed on the front lines."
"Haha!" The surrounding soldiers burst into laughter.
"Yes, in the eyes of battalion headquarters or General Taylor, Easy Company should be the best company." Luz whistled at this point; clearly, Parks' words had lifted their spirits a bit.
Actually, this was just a little psychological comfort. But when soldiers are dejected, even a small word of comfort, even a joke, can lift their spirits.
"Parks, I think you should be a Battalion Commander, not a Platoon Leader!" Patrick Christenson also laughed, "That way, we might be marching in the middle. You understand Easy Company too well, and you understand D Company and F Company."
"Alright, I hope Colonel Sink can listen to your opinion!" Parks shrugged, "I don't care."
Another burst of laughter spread through the ranks.
"No, Patrick Christenson, you're wrong. I think the Lieutenant should be a Company Commander, and then when you're hesitating, he can kick your ass with a rifle from behind." Malarkey never missed an opportunity to bicker with Patrick Christenson.
"But he's still a Platoon Leader, isn't he?" Patrick Christenson chuckled, "Honestly, I like a Platoon Leader like this. I almost idolize his combat ability. I'm very fortunate to be in this platoon."
"Oh—" Laughter erupted nearby; White chuckled, "Patrick Christenson, you're buttering him up. Don't expect Parks to promote your rank just for a few nice words."
"Very well said, Patrick Christenson. Thank you very much for your respect, that makes me very proud, yes, I am proud of you." Parks chuckled, "But, you must pay attention to one thing: just don't salute me in front of the Germans. I used to tell the brothers to use this method to deal with Captain Sobel. However, he was very lucky and didn't have the chance for the brothers to try it out."
Another burst of chuckles followed.
In this atmosphere, the brothers of Easy Company gradually lifted their originally dejected and low spirits, and their formerly indignant hearts slowly became somewhat passionate.
The column moved forward. In the distance, a fence could be seen. Parks took his rifle off his shoulder, held it firmly, and then shouted loudly, "Attention, attention to the fence. Guard against German ambush there."
Parks's loud shouts drew the attention of all the brothers in Easy Company, who began to concentrate highly and advance cautiously in skirmisher formation.
"Christenson, take Ramirez, the bazooka is on standby at all times.
We are near the railway line, always watch out for German tanks," Parks ordered loudly, then directed the entire platoon to outflank and advance from both sides.
"Enemy tank!" Boyle, who was walking in front, suddenly yelled, as he saw the tank's turret peeking out from behind the hedgerow.
"Da da da" The machine gun on the tank opened fire first.
Everyone immediately hit the ground; they dared not move.
"Take cover, take cover!" Parks anxiously shouted, rushing to the front, running and directing the soldiers to take cover behind the hedgerows on both sides.
"I'm hit!" a voice screamed.
Parks saw it was Boyle; he had been shot in the thigh by the tank's machine gun and was rolling on the ground, screaming.
"Damn it!" Parks flew towards Boyle, then grabbed his collar and dragged him desperately towards the hedgerow.
Once at the hedgerow, he loudly called out, "Eugene, come over here, take care of him."
"I'm sorry, sir!" Boyle tried to apologize, feeling he had caused Parks trouble.
But Parks had no time for him; he was shouting loudly, "Christenson, hurry up.
Bazooka, go destroy that tank, quickly!" Then he said to Gordon, "Machine gun, cover them."
At this moment, Second Platoon and Third Platoon also rushed over, hiding behind the hedgerow.
Winters saw First Platoon using bazookas and quickly had the bazooka gunners of Second Platoon and Third Platoon prepare.
"Da da da!" Gordon found a protective mound, set up his machine gun on it, and fired at the tank, quickly drawing its attention.
"Da da da" A burst of machine gun bullets hit the mound, splashing mud high into the air, and Gordon quickly ducked down.
He felt the German machine gun bullets were like rain, striking the mound, making him unable to lift his head.
"Damn it, I can't return fire at all!" Gordon cursed loudly.
The Germans successfully suppressed Easy Company's firepower with their tank, then they tried to break through the hedgerow, intending to sweep through Easy Company, who were hiding behind the hedgerow, relying on their steel bodies.
"Please, Ramirez, quickly, the tank is coming, is the rocket ready?" Christenson was standing directly in front of the hedgerow where the tank was sure to pass.
He held the bazooka, his heart pounding.
If the tank successfully crossed the hedgerow, he and Ramirez would be excellent live targets.
"Ready! Ready!" Ramirez shouted loudly.
At this moment, the tank just emerged from behind the hedgerow.
With a "whoosh," the rocket flew out, followed by an explosion.
Christenson and Ramirez had already run aside to take cover.
"Damn it, it missed!" Parks, seeing the German tank still advancing without any apparent damage, couldn't help but complain loudly.
He quickly rushed over, pulled Ramirez away, and personally loaded the bazooka for Christenson.
"I'm sorry! Sir!" Ramirez tried to apologize.
At this moment, as the tank crossed the hedgerow, its front tilted upwards, which was the best time to attack.
"Quick, quick, quick!" Christenson shouted, then heard Parks shouting beside his ear.
"Take him down!"
"Take him down, that piece of shit!" Christenson pulled the Trigger again.
The rocket, trailing a wisp of smoke, flew towards the tank's base, then exploded with a tremendous roar.
"Boom--" After a sound, the tank seemed to sneeze, then its front plunged into the hedgerow, unable to move.
It had been hit in a vital spot.
Several Germans screamed gibberish, trying to climb out of the tank's hatch, only to be shot dead by the waiting brothers.
At this moment, another tank attempted to cross the hedgerow but was destroyed by the bazooka gunners of Second Platoon and Third Platoon.
Welsh, even more so, took the lead, rushed forward, climbed onto a tank, lifted its top cover, and threw a grenade inside.
Muffled explosions were mixed with screams.
The Germans inside would not survive.
The last German tank, seeing the unfavorable situation, turned around and fled.
"Finally got rid of these scumbags." Christenson let out a long sigh of relief.
"Lieutenant, next time, please don't put me in such a dangerous situation again.
Look, out of the entire platoon, only Ramirez and I were in front of the tank."
"Okay, next time I'll have you appear behind the German tanks to take them down!" Parks smiled, then walked over to Medical Officer Luo, who was bandaging Boyle.
"How is he?" Parks asked Medical Officer Luo.
"It's quite troublesome; shrapnel is lodged in his thigh, so he'll need surgery." Medical Officer Luo looked at Boyle worriedly.
"I suggest sending him to Utah Beach and then back to England.
The medical conditions there are better, and he will recover.
After all, no bones were injured, so there won't be any sequelae.
I can only provide some emergency treatment for him now."
"Alright, Boyle, you can go back to England now!" Parks smiled at him.
"We'll miss you."
Boyle looked at his thigh, then said to Parks, "Sir, my injury isn't serious.
I don't want to go to England.
I still trust our wartime treatment.
It's just a piece of shrapnel, isn't it?
It's nothing serious."
Parks shook his head; there was no room for negotiation.
He had to respect the doctor's opinion.
"I don't want to leave my brothers like this." Boyle grew anxious.
"Parks, our European journey hasn't even begun, and I'm going back just like this."
His expression was very dejected.
"Alright, if you recover and we haven't entered Germany yet, then come back!" Parks motioned for Boyle to be lifted onto a stretcher, then patted his hand.
Although Boyle was somewhat unwilling, he was still sent away.
Watching the stretcher gradually disappear from sight, Parks couldn't help but sigh.
The brothers now, after a series of battles, had established a very strong bond.
They would rather face the dangerous Germans together than stay in a hospital, wasting time.
"Parks!" Winters waved to him from a distance.
Parks walked over, then looked at Winters.
Clearly, Winters was going to assign tasks.
They had already reached their destination and were in a stalemate with the Germans.
"We need to build fortifications behind the hedgerow.
There's a hedgerow directly in front of us, which is the Germans' barrier.
Now there are two hedgerows between me and them.
Tell the brothers to dig skirmisher pits and build good fortifications.
We're going to confront the Germans head-on." Winters simply gave the orders.
Easy Company began building fortifications behind the hedgerow.
Everyone knew this was a measure to save their lives, so they carried it out meticulously and seriously.
But one thing was very annoying: from behind the hedgerow opposite, the Germans, hidden in their already dug fortifications, harassed Easy Company.
As soon as the brothers of Easy Company made even a slight movement behind the hedgerow, they would be subjected to German firepower harassment.
"Bang!" A gunshot, then a branch fell from above Bloy's head, landing on his boot, startling him.
He immediately lay flat on the ground, nervously looking towards the front of the hedgerow, but he couldn't see anything.
"Hey, Bloy, what are you doing?" Patrick Christenson watched from the side, laughing.
He was trying to dig a trench with a shovel.
"The Germans are still far away; they can't see you, as long as you don't stick your head out of the hedgerow."
Bloy reluctantly got up, then hid behind the hedgerow and began digging his skirmisher pit.
He was a bit neurotic now, that was his own feeling; even the slightest movement was enough to make his heart pound.
He was truly scared.
This fear had begun to spread in his heart since D-Day, even leading to temporary blindness during combat.
"Hey, Bloy!" He was concentrating on digging his skirmisher pit, and his pit was already deep enough to bury his entire head, leaving only his eyes exposed.
Then he heard someone calling him.
"Lieutenant." He looked up and saw Parks's face.
He looked puzzled, not knowing what Parks wanted with him.
"Is something wrong?"
"No, nothing!" Parks nodded at him.
"Don't be nervous, relax! That's it! That's what I wanted to tell you." Parks finished speaking and walked away.
He constantly encouraged the brothers around him.
"Hi, Parks!" At this moment, Malarkey waved to him.
Parks bent down and quietly went over: "What's up, Malarkey?"
"I heard that the High Command has released news that we can end the war before Christmas?" Malarkey was still concerned about this, which was the kind of optimism Parks worried about.
"Perhaps, I hope we can end the fighting before Christmas.
But we still have to prevent the Germans from recovering!" Parks shook his head.
"They have realized it and will constantly set up obstacles and increase their forces on our path forward."
"You don't think highly of their estimation?" Malarkey looked at Parks in surprise.
"Or perhaps you heard something?"
"Nothing at all, this is just my own estimation!" Parks patted his shoulder.
"Right now, we shouldn't be discussing where to spend Christmas.
We still have Germans in front of us; they are going to attack us.
Be careful!"
Malarkey nodded somewhat unwillingly.
Clearly, he was eager to end the war and go home.
Compared to when he was training in America and England, where he had a mix of anticipation and fear for war, he now thought more about when the fighting would end.
"Our attack is at 5:30 AM." Winters looked at his watch, then gave the combat time to the three platoons.
"It seems we'll have to spend the night here today."
At this time, F Company on Easy Company's right flank and D Company on its left flank also entered their respective positions and began building fortifications.
The fine rain that had been falling from the sky had stopped.
This was good news for the Second Battalion, who were preparing to spend the night here.
In the afternoon, several trucks drove up from behind the Second Battalion's defensive line.
At this time, Lieutenant Colonel Strayer ordered the companies to collect supplies.
"k ration, this is simply too good!" Cobb said sarcastically, holding the U.S. Army's standard field rations that had been supplied; to be honest, the taste was truly not great.
"I was hoping for some roasted beef, Cobb!" White said lazily from the foxhole.
"Don't complain.
Right now, I just want to push back the Germans quickly, then go back to Carrington and get some good sleep.
God, I'm so tired!"
The brothers of Easy Company were truly exhausted, and it wasn't just White.
They had originally thought that capturing Carrington would allow them to rest well, but they were immediately sent here to defend.
"Soon, if we can successfully defend against the Germans, Division HQ will move into Carrington.
We'll withdraw, and there will be sleep and good wine whenever we want." Parks sat on the ground not far away, leaning against a large tree, looking at White and smiling, "But I really do hate these U.S. Army rations.
Why don't they make them taste like steak?"
White and Cobb couldn't help but laugh.
This resupply also included ammunition, and because of the tanks, each platoon received an additional bazooka.
Parks gave the bazooka to soldier Joseph and Malarkey.
"I don't want to do this!" Joseph said to Malarkey.
But despite his unwillingness, he accepted it; he said nothing in front of Parks, only complaining a little afterward.
"I don't want to either," Malarkey glanced at him; their foxholes were connected.
"But someone has to do it.
Why don't you talk to Parks and ask him to do it himself?"
"Malarkey, I didn't say that!" Joseph immediately retorted.
Malarkey shrugged, "I'm just giving you a suggestion." Then he took a bite of the k ration, chewed it a couple of times, and spat it out with a "Ptooey."
"Damn the U.S. Army Quartermaster Corps!" Malarkey muttered.
Then he pulled out his canteen, took a big gulp, and sighed contentedly.
It was whiskey inside.
"Hey, Malarkey, let me have a sip too!" Joseph smelled it and grinned at Malarkey.
"No, I don't have much left!" Malarkey put the canteen back.
Joseph chuckled, "If you don't give it to me, I'll shout and let everyone know you have alcohol here, and maybe Parks and Winters will know too.
What kind of people did they send to the battlefield? Drunkards?"
"Damn you, Joseph." Malarkey glared at him fiercely and reluctantly handed over the canteen.
Joseph took a big gulp, praised it, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve, "I didn't expect you to be hiding such good liquor.
This gives me a very good idea; maybe next time I can do the same!"
As soon as he finished speaking, Malarkey snatched the canteen back and quickly put it away.
The Germans, apart from occasional harassment, did not launch an attack, not even a probing attack.
They were also preparing, guarding against a U.S. Army attack.
Now they had entered a stalemate, between two barriers.
As night gradually fell, the Easy Company soldiers all huddled in their foxholes, and each platoon sent out sentries to prevent a surprise attack from the Germans.
The last ray of sunlight receded into the horizon, and the night grew deeper.
The figures outside began to blur.
The Easy Company sentries began to patrol around.
"Now implement sound and light restrictions!" Parks constantly moved through Easy Company, warning those who still intended to smoke or speak loudly.
"All right, shut up, Cobb!" Parks whispered sternly at Cobb.
"Yes, Lieutenant!" Cobb was a little disgruntled.
The entire position gradually quieted down.
When Parks returned to the foxhole again, it was completely dark, and visibility was very low.
The quiet environment gradually calmed one's thoughts.
Parks took a deep breath.
Suddenly, a feeling welled up in his heart.
Recalling how he had inexplicably come to this world, trained with the brothers of his favorite company for two years, then participated in Operation Overlord together, and then fought in Europe together, now that he thought about it, it felt like a dream.
He was momentarily lost in thought.
He thought of Jennifer and Virginia, and of the unknown future.
He seemed to have forgotten his former self; he had completely integrated into this world and this company.
From time to time, blurry figures moved in front; those were the patrolling soldiers responsible for vigilance, walking very lightly on the grass, making extremely faint rustling sounds.
"Gordon, why are we exposed in a place like this?" soldier Joost couldn't help but complain softly.
Gordon and he were positioned by a railway, with their backs to it; there was almost no cover here, except for a small mound.
This was also the reason Joost felt uneasy and complained.
Gordon set up his machine gun and then aimed his eyes forward, but he couldn't see anything; the front was pitch black, like a devil's hand that could grab someone at any moment.
"I want to know why too." Gordon couldn't help but glare at him.
"If I were you, I'd shut my mouth and not say a word; that way, our chances of being discovered by the Germans would be much smaller." Then he lay behind the machine gun again and aimed at the night sky.
Joost closed his mouth; he didn't want to make a fool of himself, and it was clear that Gordon's complaint was valid.
He certainly didn't want to actually be targeted by the Germans.
Joost lay down, his eyes wide, staring ahead with a hint of fear.
It was as if German tanks and desperate assault soldiers might suddenly emerge from the darkness.
In the quiet night, Parks' mind was filled with a jumble of random thoughts, which made him feel a little tired.
He closed his eyes, just about to fall asleep.
Suddenly, faint voices came from ahead, which instinctively made Parks' well-trained body react.
He suddenly opened his eyes, showing no sign of fatigue.
It was the sound of the Germans.
Did they dare to launch an attack at night?
A crazy thought flashed through Parks' mind, then he quickly calmed down; it was clear that a large-scale surprise attack was impossible at night, perhaps it was just German reconnaissance.
At this moment, Easy Company suddenly stirred.
"Don't shoot, stay put!" Parks moved constantly, issuing orders.
Before determining the Germans' intentions, they absolutely could not expose their position and firepower first.
"Crouch down, Webster."
"Relax, Bloy!"
...
"Da da da..." The German machine guns began to fire, and their noise grew louder.
"Hold steady!" Parks repeatedly warned the brothers of Easy Company, "Hold steady, don't get excited, brothers."
At this moment, someone quietly crept towards him, beckoning to him.
Parks turned his head and saw it was Lieutenant Winters; he quickly went over and stated his judgment.
"It's German reconnaissance!" Parks whispered.
Winters nodded; he thought so too.
Because of Parks' warning, the brothers of Easy Company continued to lie in ambush, not exposing any targets.
But at this time, there was quite a commotion from F Company and D Company; clearly, some of their brothers couldn't hold their nerve and let out shouts, immediately attracting the Germans' machine gun fire.
This was then accompanied by screams of people.
Some people in F Company and D Company began to retaliate, and machine guns began to fire at the Germans.
Their firing positions were exposed.
This was undoubtedly a huge mistake, and it was quickly confirmed.
"Whoosh—" A sharp scream in the night sky was particularly piercing; it was the sound of German mortars.
"Boom—" The positions of F Company and D Company were hit by mortar shells one after another.
"Someone got hit?" Cobb suddenly said nervously to White.
He saw a blaze of fire on the positions of F Company and D Company and was very worried; perhaps it would affect Easy Company's position as well, as they were in the exact middle of F Company and D Company.
"Those damned idiots!" White couldn't help but curse.
His eyes were fixed on the German firing positions.
"Da da da" The machine gun fire suddenly became denser, and more and more heavy weapons were added by the Germans.
And the mortars of D Company and F Company also joined the counterattack, with explosions ringing out incessantly.
"Hey, Parks, are we going to return fire?" In the darkness, someone couldn't help but start speaking loudly.
"The Germans are coming!" Someone else exclaimed.
"Maintain silence, no firing without orders!" Parks shouted loudly, trying to prevent the brothers of Easy Company from making the same mistake as F Company and D Company.
"Bang bang bang" Bullets whizzed "whoosh whoosh whoosh" over Parks' head, who had just shouted loudly, hitting tree branches and sending splinters flying.
Parks quickly ducked down, cursing under his breath, "Damn it!"
At this moment, he heard Lieutenant Winters' voice again.
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"Easy Company is not allowed to fire."
His voice was quickly met with return fire from the Germans, and even a few shots.
He also quickly ducked down.
Because Easy Company's target was unclear, the Germans fired indiscriminately for a while, then shifted their firepower to the positions of the other two companies.
The flashes of exploding bombs occasionally illuminated the faces of the brothers of F Company and D Company.
They began to scream and shout, some still running around frantically, their positions in chaos.
"God!" Bloy curled up in his foxhole, feeling his whole body tremble.
The sharp whistling of shells in the air felt like a knife cutting into his heart.
He mumbled, then desperately covered his ears with his hands, not wanting those trembling sounds to enter his ears.
Then he closed his eyes, pulled his knees to his chest, and kept muttering.
"Hey, Bloy." He seemed to hear someone calling his name. He tried to open his eyes to see, but he didn't dare to move. He felt as if he was being pressed down by something around him, making him unable to move.
"Bloy!" The voice grew louder, and even though he covered his ears, he could hear it clearly, clearer than the explosions and gunshots. He slowly raised his head and saw a man squatting beside his foxhole, frowning at him.
"Private Perks!" He released his hands and instinctively called out.
"Relax, Bloy!" Perks squatted there, looking at Bloy's terrified expression, and couldn't help but shake his head. He hadn't fully recovered from his fear yet, but hopefully, after this battle, he would become a true Easy Company paratrooper, possessing the courage he should have.
"Yes, yes! I should relax!" Bloy nodded. He slowly stretched out his curled body, but the explosions and gunshots still filled him with fear.
"Tell me, what are you afraid of?" Perks frowned, looking at Bloy, "Are you afraid of death, soldier? If you are afraid of death, then death will follow you at all times, even when you are alive, it will torment you at all times, soldier Bloy. Alright, relax your nerves, just pretend you've already died in battle, and your courage will not be constantly suppressed by death!"
Perks shook his head and then prepared to leave. He had to constantly calm those restless guys and prevent them from firing and revealing their positions.
"Thank you, sir!" Bloy's low voice came from behind him.
Perks didn't know if it would help him, but he still tried his best.
At this time, the commanders of the Battalion HQ began to realize that this was merely a probing attack that would only waste ammunition and expose their positions, so they ordered a stop to the counterattack.
The Germans' artillery and machine guns also slowly ceased fire as they lost their targets again. Occasionally, there were still sporadic gunshots, and after a while, the entire night gradually became quiet. It was as if nothing had happened just now; if not for the lingering smell of gunpowder smoke, one would not be able to tell that a fierce exchange of fire had just occurred here.
This was the benefit of the night, concealing everything that felt stimulating, and also concealing all desires in war.
Each company began to rearrange their sentry posts. It was now Sergeant Tibbett's turn to patrol. He constantly moved through Easy Company's entire position, checking the status of each sentry post.
The weather was a bit cold, so he picked up a German raincoat and put it on.
"Sergeant Tibbett!" At this moment, someone quietly called him. He carefully identified the voice; it was Private Perks.
"What is it, sir!" Tibbett whispered.
"I'm patrolling now, you rest first. Be careful not to wear German clothes, it will cause our brothers to misunderstand." Perks' warning was to prevent him from experiencing the tragedy of "Bayonet Night," being accidentally injured by Smith.
Tibbett shrugged his shoulders. He was a bit nonchalant, but he still listened to Perks' advice and took off the raincoat: "Alright, sir, for looking like a German." After saying that, he found it very amusing and couldn't help but chuckle softly, then returned to his foxhole.
Perks saved him from a tragedy, even though he was unaware of it. But for Perks, it was very significant. In his heart, the life of every brother in Easy Company was worth protecting. Although sometimes he was powerless, he would never allow a preventable tragedy to occur.
"How is it?" Perks quietly arrived at Gordon's sentry post and whispered a question.
"It's pitch black ahead, nothing there." Gordon shook his head and replied softly, "Don't worry, sir, this is my foremost stronghold for blocking the Germans. I won't let them easily break through!"
"But…" Joost, next to Gordon, couldn't help but speak.
"What?" Perks glanced at Joost. This soldier seemed to have something to say.
"Nothing." Gordon glared fiercely at Joost, then turned to Perks and smiled, "Nothing. This guy was scared by the German artillery fire just now and is a bit disoriented."
Joost stopped speaking. He looked at Gordon unhappily, then hunched his head and lay down at the bottom of the mound, turning to look at the dark opposite side, refusing to speak again.
Perks suddenly noticed something, then looked at this sentry post and realized that it was a bit far from the entire position, already extending forward, and most importantly, there was no cover available.
"Gordon, move your sentry post back." Perks looked at Easy Company's position, "You two go back to the main defense line. This place is too far from the position and lacks defense!"
Joost suddenly turned his head and winked at Gordon, looking very excited and pleased.
"Alright, sir!" Gordon smiled, "Actually, I also felt it was a bit far here and the position was very exposed." Then he turned to Joost and said, "Let's go, buddy, you're lucky!" With that, he moved the machine gun, and Joost carried the ammunition box. The two retreated from the small hill towards the main defense line.
Perks couldn't help but shake his head and smile. He knew why Gordon initially refused to speak and didn't let Joost speak. After watching the two enter the main position, Perks continued his patrol.
"Gordon, why didn't you let me say anything just now?" Although Perks had them retreat, Joost still had a belly full of dissatisfaction, and this dissatisfaction came from Gordon's obstruction of him.
"What's there to say?" Gordon looked at him with some dissatisfaction, "We are not cowards. If you only know how to complain all day, why did you even come to Europe? Alright, let's not argue about this. Even if we didn't say anything, Perks would have made adjustments. Haven't you already retreated from that place as you wished?"
"Alright, you're right!" Joost decided to end this conversation that made him feel depressed.
Gordon ignored him. He sat quietly in his foxhole, looking in the direction Perks was constantly patrolling, somewhat lost in thought. In fact, there was another important reason he hadn't mentioned, only keeping it to himself.
From the beginning of training until before D-Day, Perks performed exceptionally well, and he even used a miraculous method to improve the physique of the Easy Company brothers. This was an incredibly valuable asset for Easy Company soldiers in training and combat, and a crucial aspect of their survival. Moreover, from D-Day onwards, Gordon had been fighting alongside Perks.
As more and more battles were fought, and they became increasingly fierce, many in Easy Company regarded Perks as the spiritual pillar of Easy Company. Perks was brave in combat, charged at the forefront, possessed rich tactical skills, treated his brothers sincerely, and repeatedly achieved great merits in battle. He was Easy Company's hero. Although many did not say it, their unconscious display of respect for Perks was still palpable. Gordon did not want to show a weak side of himself in front of Perks.
He even thought that if he retreated from an already established position, it would be a cowardly act of evasion. Even if he had such a thought, he wouldn't show it in front of Perks.
Perks didn't know what kind of image he had in the hearts of his brothers. He didn't want to think about that question. He only wanted to do what he should, try his best to help his brothers avoid unnecessary casualties, and achieve victory in battle. But he had already, invisibly, had a huge impact on the brothers of Easy Company.
This influence could not be ignored even by Lieutenant Winters, the company commander.
"Who's that?" He vaguely saw someone patrolling the sentry posts and couldn't help but ask Welsh beside him, "I know you're still awake, tossing and turning, restless."
Welsh was also awake, but he wasn't like Winters, wide-eyed and looking around for something. Instead, he had his eyes closed, trying to fall asleep, but he still couldn't, especially after a large-scale harassment battle. Now, most of the Easy Company brothers were like Welsh, wanting to sleep but unable to.
"What?" Welsh heard Winters' voice, opened his eyes, and leaned in to look.
"Perks?" Winters nodded, then turned his head and said something.
"It's him!" Welsh chuckled, "He's like a tireless field mouse."
Winters nodded, then turned to Welsh and said, "Hmm, what do you think of Perks?"
"What?" Welsh seemed not to have caught on, "What aspect are you referring to?"
Then he chuckled self-deprecatingly, "Compared to me, he seems to be better at everything. Accurate marksmanship, agile movements, and a quick mind!" At this point, he quickly shook his head and said, "No, no, that last one doesn't count. My mind is quicker than his. Hmm, and of course, he can pick up girls. I heard many brothers in the company know he has two women back home."
Winters couldn't help but smile. He suppressed his laughter and said, "I'm not talking about that, Welsh."
"He's a great guy!" Welsh nodded, then seriously said to Winters, "You know, after all this, I'll always consider him my closest friend, just like I treat you."
"Like you treat me?" Winters smiled and glanced at him.
"Yes, because he gives me the same feeling you give me!" Welsh said, "Perhaps you two are just the same type of person, that's all!"
Winters didn't take up the topic. He looked at the night sky ahead and suddenly said, "I really hope the war can end by Christmas!"