Carrington had a public bathroom with hot water in a hotel called Baikal.
The brothers of Easy Company often frequented this place, which was the only truly enjoyable luxury available to the soldiers.
"It's like a dream!" Patrick Christenson let the hot water pour over his head, covered his face with his hands, parted the water, and let out a long sigh.
Suddenly, a "thwack" sound came from the bathroom, followed by Patrick Christenson's angry voice: "Hey, Mr. Gonorrhea, why did you hit my butt?"
"I just wanted to make sure you weren't dreaming, but actually naked and showering under hot water!" Guarnere chuckled.
"Well done, Guarnere!" Landeman laughed from the side, "It might be a sweet dream for him, but it's a nightmare for us.
I don't want anyone mentioning those things when I'm enjoying myself like this."
"I can't forget it!" Patrick Christenson mumbled, "This is my most precious memory.
When the war ends, I might even tell my son or grandson: 'Hey, baby, your grandpa single-handedly broke into the German command post during the war and even took down a German regimental commander, a colonel at that!'"
"And your luger and gold watch!" Hight said from the side, "You can tell your son or grandson about that too!"
"Don't mention the luger, you bunch of gloating guys." Talbert was behind Patrick Christenson, with his back to him, getting dressed.
"This is completely unfair; you went to the command post while I was on guard for you."
"Don't complain, Talbert, why don't you ask Parks for one?
He confiscated the colonel's luger and Browning.
I envy him; the Browning is so beautiful, and it's American made!"
Patrick Christenson chuckled, "Maybe Parks will be merciful and give you one!"
"I don't want to get it that way; maybe next time I'll have one, Patrick Christenson, it's just luck!"
Talbert finished dressing and walked out, seeing Lipton still waiting outside the door.
"Are you done, guys?
You've been in there for a full hour; are you going to wash off your whole skin?
I've arranged a hearty dinner for you; hurry up, hurry up!"
Lipton looked at his watch and began to urge them loudly.
"Patrick Christenson, don't wash your butt too white; it'll reflect when we fight the Germans."
Talbert shouted loudly into the bathroom, and Lipton couldn't help but laugh.
"He's jealous!" Patrick Christenson said to Hight, then began to get dressed.
"Yes, yes, I think so too," Hight nodded and smiled, "But no matter what, whenever Parks and I go on a mission in the future, I must participate; I can't be left out.
This is completely... a completely new experience, very exciting!"
"Yes, very exciting!" Landers said as he finished dressing and walked past them, "I like it; maybe next time something like this happens, I'll be more proactive!"
"Me too!" Patrick Christenson nodded; he strongly agreed with that statement.
Dinner was indeed hearty, especially for these guys who had been eating K-rations for the past few days.
The aroma of grilled beef made these guys I couldn't help but wield my knife and fork and gobble it up .
"Slow down, guys, no one's fighting you for it; if it's not enough, we have some more; supplying you is no problem at all!"
Lipton watched them fumbling to swallow their food with a smile and couldn't help but say.
"How could those guys from the U.S. Army Logistics Department bear to bring out such good stuff?" Liebgott struggled to swallow a piece of beef that hadn't been chewed very well, laughing, "Is it just because we took down a German regimental commander?"
"Yes, yes, you took down a German regimental commander." Lipton shook his head helplessly and smiled, "I've heard that at least ten times.
But the U.S. Army Logistics Department won't give you beef because of that; they only have K-rations.
These are what the brothers left for you; we got them ourselves."
"Got them yourselves?" Shifty looked at Lipton.
Lipton nodded and smiled: "Hubler shot a cow near Carrington, and then we had beef.
It's that simple!"
Everyone showed an expression of sudden realization.
"However, this time you really did an excellent job." Lipton nodded to them, "I estimate Colonel Sink will apply for medals for you; the operation was perfectly executed!"
"Perfectly executed?" Gordon suddenly said, "No, not perfect.
If Dukeman could also be here with us tonight enjoying delicious beef, then it would be perfectly executed!"
Everyone was stunned, then all fell silent.
Yes, how could there be imperfections in a perfect operation?
All the team members who participated in the operation felt a little guilty.
Dukeman's war career was over; it was unknown whether this was a good thing or a bad thing.
Parks followed Winters to the hotel they had stayed in before; Winters had already set it up as the company command post.
"Oh—Parks!" When Parks entered the room, Nixon had already come up to greet him, gave him a hug, then pulled him to the table, picked up a glass of wine and handed it over, "This is for the heroes; except for Winters, we each get a glass.
Welsh, this is yours! Cheers!"
The three clinked their glasses together with a "ding" and drank it all in one gulp.
Parks smacked his lips, put down the glass, and found a comfortable chair to sit in.
Nixon refilled the glass.
"You gave me the biggest surprise, Parks!" Nixon said to Parks with a smile, then handed over the refilled wine glass again, "Actually, Winters had the most confidence in you.
I really don't know where he got that kind of confidence."
Parks looked at Winters.
Winters shrugged and smiled: "I always make the best assumptions in the worst situations."
Nixon nodded and smiled: "Hmm, that's your style, just like you always plan for the worst in the best situations."
"But that always leads to some unexpected surprises, doesn't it?" Winters said, giving Parks a slight smile.
Welsh mumbled from the side: "Making the best assumptions in the worst situations, planning for the worst in the best situations.
Hmm, I like that saying.
Are you a follower of Hegel or a worshipper of Nietzsche?
How come I haven't seen these two phrases in their works?
Did you invent them yourself?"
Winters smiled: "Yes, is there a problem?"
"You could be a philosopher!" Welsh raised his glass to Winters and said seriously, "I firmly believe that.
But philosophers usually drink, which is a pity."
"Parks, I heard from the team members that you also killed the German regimental commander Hight?" Welsh looked at Parks, then said with an envious expression, "Colonel Sink must be overjoyed!"
"Just luck!" Parks nodded.
"Woah—" Nixon exclaimed; he had just heard the news, then raised his glass to Parks and said loudly, "For that, we have to drink this glass again, Parks!" He then drank it all in one gulp.
Watching Parks finish the glass, he seemed to be still enjoying it and said, "What a perfect operation!"
Parks suddenly became silent, then shook his head and smiled wryly: "No, Nixon, this operation wasn't perfect; two of the POWs we rescued died, and... Dukeman's leg was blown off."
"Dukeman?" Parks nodded, then stood up and patted Parks on the shoulder, saying, "Don't take it to heart; it's not your fault; you've done your best.
Every brother is still alive; that's what's most important.
The record you achieved, for Dukeman, is not bad news!"
"Yes!" Parks nodded, "We are proud of him!"
"We are proud of you too!" Welsh raised his glass at this moment, looked at Parks, and said this very seriously.
"I'm proud to be in Easy Company!" Parks also raised his glass.
"Oh—God!" Nixon couldn't help but shake his head and say, "I'm proud of Colonel Sink, and also proud of our great 101st Airborne Division.
And proud of General Taylor!" He said with a grin, "So it's precisely because we are so proud of him that they sent us to this damned battlefield to fight the Germans to the death!"
The four couldn't help but laugh.
Then their glasses clinked together.
"Do you want some beef?" At this moment, Winters, from somewhere, brought a large plate of roasted beef; it was clearly freshly roasted, steaming and fragrant, and placed on the dining table.
"Did you rob a nearby farm?" Parks exclaimed in surprise.
Beef was indeed a very luxurious item for the 101st Airborne Division, which was currently facing some supply difficulties.
"Those boys from Hubler did it; they shot a cow nearby.
Heaven knows where that cow came from; maybe it was a gift from God to make those U.S. Army Logistics Department guys die of shame!" Welsh chuckled, "Alright, where should I start cutting?
This is difficult!"
"I'm good at this!" Parks swallowed, then pulled out a dagger, cut off a piece, picked it up with the tip of the knife, put it in his mouth, and kept nodding, "It tastes really good!"
Welsh also pulled out his dagger, cut off a piece, and put it in his mouth, chewing vigorously.
"What a bunch of barbarians!" Nixon shook his head, then found plates and knives and forks, handed them to Parks and Welsh, "It seems I'll have to give you a lesson on civilized society!"
They were indeed starving; Parks wolfed down his food, while Welsh and Nixon only tasted a little, and Winters didn't touch it at all.
The three smiled as they watched Parks eat the entire plate of beef clean.
"It's truly unforgettable; this is the most satisfying meal I've ever had!" Parks let out a burp, looked at the three, and said somewhat sheepishly, "Did I... eat too fast?"
The command did not take advantage of the victory to attack the German army; instead, the next day, they tentatively shelled the German positions. However, the German army retaliled with 88mm and 105mm howitzers. Although not very intense, this made the command cautious. General Taylor's response to Sink was: It doesn't matter whether Colonel Hight was killed or not; the key is that the German command system has not been completely destroyed. A rash attack would result in heavy losses for Captain America.
"I really don't know if their brains were kicked by a donkey!" Sink seemed very aggressive. He lost his temper at the battalion headquarters, and he did it in front of Lieutenant Winters. "Even sending our 506th Regiment to conduct a probing attack would be acceptable."
Winters didn't know what to say, so he said nothing. He had been in the Battalion HQ for a while, just standing there watching Colonel Sink complain incessantly and then puffing on his cigar.
"I want to personally meet Private Perks. I will recommend him for the Congressional Medal of Honor. And of course, you, Winters, you held the right flank of the defense line and played a decisive role in the battle of Carrington." Colonel Sink smiled broadly at Winters, showing no sign of his previous anger and endless complaints.
"Congressional Medal of Honor?" Winters muttered to himself. Parks might be qualified, but if he were also to receive one, could two be awarded at the same time? Although he didn't say it aloud, it was clear he didn't have much hope for Sink's statement.
"Sir, is there anything else?" Winters was puzzled. Sink had called him here just to say these things. There must be another mission; this was his usual trick.
Sink looked at Winters, then nodded and said, "Dick, I know you are an excellent officer, always capable of the toughest missions, capable of continuous combat. Now we need to replace the soldiers on the defense line south of Carrington. I think only Easy Company can handle such a task now. Tomorrow, you will enter the defense line. Any problems?"
Winters had no choice. He nodded and said, "Yes, Sir, no problem!"
"Talk to your brothers properly!" Colonel Sink said.
Dick nodded, then said, "Sir, what about the commandos? They need rest."
Sink was stunned for a moment, then said, "You are free to arrange it. Oh, by the way, I have already given Parks a battlefield commission. I hope you can personally pin it on him; he will be very honored." As he spoke, he took a silver bar from his pocket and handed it to Parks.
Winters took it, played with it in his hand for a moment, then nodded and said, "Yes, Parks is a good officer, he deserves this, Sir, thank you!"
Sink nodded and sat in his chair without speaking further, his eyes fixed on a newspaper. This was his gesture to end the conversation. Winters was also tactful enough to take his leave at this moment.
The commandos were all reassigned to their respective platoons. For them, the mission was over; they were no longer commandos, but ordinary members of Easy Company. However, this did not prevent them from bragging to their brothers in Easy Company.
Malarkey seemed very depressed. He had been looking for a luger, and now several had appeared in Easy Company, mostly captured by the commandos. Even Patrick Christenson had found one.
"You know, when that German was checking the truck compartment, Patrick Christenson's hands were shaking, even more than the German he had a pistol pointed at." Guarnere was sitting in a room, animatedly giving a speech, surrounded by a group of brothers from Easy Company, who were laughing heartily at his words.
"He's said it three times already!" Cobb was sitting against the wall near the crowd, holding a bottle of wine, taking a sip, and saying to soldier Hocker beside him, "He's gone from First Platoon to Third Platoon."
"Are you jealous?" Hocker chuckled.
"What do you think?" Cobb glared at him. "Do I need to be jealous of him? I just can't stand it anymore, this kind of repetitive stuff." With that, he picked up the wine bottle and walked out.
"Hey, Cobb. We're going into the defense zone tomorrow!" Hocker laughed behind him. "You can go fight the Germans too."
Cobb ignored him and walked straight away. But all the brothers in Easy Company knew that tomorrow they would re-enter the positions, and today should be a day to enjoy themselves.
As Cobb walked out, a military jeep sped past him, almost hitting him. This made the disheartened Cobb unable to resist shouting, "Damn it, can you drive? Go drive into a shell, you stupid pig."
Cobb's cursing obviously caught the attention of the people in the jeep. A middle-aged man couldn't help but frown and say to the Sergeant driving beside him, "Sergeant Kate, is this a soldier from your 101st Division?"
Sergeant Kate frowned, looked through the rearview mirror, then smiled at the middle-aged man and said, "Yes, I think he must have had too much to drink. Mr. McCullum, please don't mind it. soldiers like this are absolutely individual cases."
The middle-aged man, who was called Mr. McCullum, said nothing, just frowned slightly. He knew his mission today was to interview Colonel Sink, the commander of the 506th Regiment of the 101st Division, who had won the battle in Carrington.
The jeep stopped at the battalion headquarters. Colonel Sink personally greeted Mr. McCullum at the command post entrance. Seeing him get out of the car, he quickly stepped forward, extended his hand, and said, "Welcome, Mr. McCullum."
"It's an honor to meet you!" McCullum said with a smile, stepping forward and shaking Colonel Sink's hand.
Colonel Sink led McCullum into the command post. Inside the command post were Lieutenant Colonel Strayer, and several junior officer staff officers.
"I am here to interview you on behalf of the Washington Star. You and your army have achieved brilliant results in the battle of Carrington. I think all the people of America have the right to know how our army fights bravely on the front lines, especially those excellent commanders. This is the purpose of my interview, Colonel."
Sink smiled and said, "Mr. McCullum, please ask. I guarantee, as a soldier, that everything I say is true and there will be no exaggeration. Please rest assured!"
"Then let's talk about the battle of Carrington! I think many people are very interested in this victory now!" McCullum opened his notebook and prepared to take notes.
Colonel Sink spoke eloquently about many things: the deployment of the battle, the decisions of the battalion headquarters, and also the performance of each company, especially praising Easy Company and Lieutenant Winters. He said, "It is due to Winters' leadership that they held this key position on the defense line, repelling the enemy's attack with mortar and machine gun fire. He is an excellent soldier on that battlefield. In the face of extremely fierce combat, their ability to hold their ground is inseparable from his personal courage and knowledge of combat."
"Lieutenant Winters?" McCullum wrote down the name in his notebook and circled it.
After Colonel Sink spoke for a while, McCullum nodded, then continued to ask, "I heard that the Army Department arranged a very successful assault to rescue soldier Niland. Not only was Niland rescued, but twenty prisoners of war were also saved, one of whom was a Lieutenant. Can you talk about the commander responsible for this operation?"
"That was Private Perks!" Colonel Sink's eyes lit up when he said the name, but he didn't elaborate. "He is an excellent officer."
"Can you elaborate?" McCullum pressed on, clearly more interested in the Private Perks that Sink was talking about. A lone hero? This made him perk up.
"Well, I can only say that he is a very excellent officer, and he is the pride of the 506th Regiment!" Colonel Sink smiled, "Mr. McCullum, it's time for a meal now. Why don't you taste what a battlefield lunch is like?"
McCullum knew he wouldn't get anything more out of him. He also wrote down the name "Parks" in his notebook, then drew several circles around it with his pen, closed his notebook, and smiled, "It's my honor, Colonel."
Lunch proceeded in a jovial atmosphere. After lunch, McCullum asked a few more questions, then concluded the interview. Colonel Sink arranged a car to take him out of Carrington.
Parks went to First Platoon after lunch. He smiled and greeted all his brothers.
"Boss, are we going to the defense line south of Carrington tomorrow? Why don't they let us have a good rest?" It was Talbert speaking. He had just finished chatting with his brothers and then said to Parks.
"It's best not to call me that in the company!" Parks smiled and shook his head. "The detachment has been disbanded; we are now members of Easy Company again. Call me by my rank or name. I believe you prefer to call me by my name."
"Yes, Sir!" Talbert chuckled, then lowered his voice and said, "I still prefer to call you 'Boss' in private."
Parks smiled, said nothing more, and walked over. Just then, White handed him a bottle of wine: "Want some?"
Parks nodded, took it, took a sip, then returned it to White and said, "Yes, we'll enter the defense line with the brothers of Easy Company tomorrow, Talbert. We're back now. There's no detachment. We have to obey orders like the other brothers!" Then he smiled and said, "This is what Captain Sobel taught us back at Taccoa Barracks."
"Haha!" Everyone laughed.
"Charge, steeds! Three miles out, three miles back!" Luz shouted loudly, then slapped Talbert's butt, imitating Captain Sobel's tone. Then he chuckled.
"Damn it, Luz!" Talbert yelled, "You should really have butter smeared on your butt, and then a sandwich stuffed in there, so you wouldn't say anything!"
Just then, Malarkey at the door suddenly shouted, "Atten—tion!"
Everyone instinctively stood up, standing ramrod straight. At that moment, Winters, Nixon, and Welsh walked in from the doorway.
"At ease," Winters nodded, then said, "Good afternoon, brothers!"
After everyone sat down, Winters beckoned to Parks and smiled, "I knew you'd be here, so I came over."
When Parks walked over, he took a silver bar from his pocket and smiled, "Colonel Sink thinks you should be promoted, Lieutenant Parks."
"Congratulations, Reese!" Winters smiled as he patted Parks' arm, then shook his hand, "Do well!"
"Thanks, Dick!" Parks smiled, then leaned in and said to Winters, "What about those soldiers?"
Winters looked at him and smiled, "Don't worry, I'll fight for rewards for them. I believe there will be an answer soon, and some of them will also get promotions, but that depends on how you write your report."
"It will satisfy Colonel Sink." Parks smiled slightly.
The two talked for a few more sentences, and then Winters said goodbye. He and Nixon left, while Welsh stayed behind.
"Congratulations, Lieutenant!" Talbert chuckled, genuinely happy for Parks. And it wasn't just him; all the brothers present were happy about this news.
"This makes me a little jealous of him!" Welsh said with a laugh from the side, "You know, his promotion speed is the fastest. How long has it been? Before D-Day, we were still calling him Staff Sergeant Parks; now he's a Lieutenant."
"It's just luck, Harry!" Parks playfully patted his shoulder, "Together?"
Welsh nodded and said, "Alright, I also want to experience the joy of First Platoon. Of course, it would be even better if there was roasted beef. I heard First Platoon still has beef?"
The next morning, Easy Company entered the defensive positions south of Carrington.
"Guys, dig your foxholes and our defensive fortifications. Try to be discreet, don't make too much noise, and try to keep your head level with your crotch. Germans love those guys who hold their heads high; it gives them targets for target practice." Parks instructed the brothers in the platoon as he patrolled.
"Patrick Christenson, put away your pistol, stop fiddling with that thing," Parks shouted at Patrick Christenson, who was showing off in front of a group of people, "Don't put a loaded pistol in your pocket, that's a stupid act. Go dig your foxhole; it can only cover your two feet. Hurry up, hurry up, buddy!"
"Got it! Lieutenant!" Patrick Christenson ejected the bullets, put away his luger, and then walked to his position and began to dig a foxhole, muttering, "I thought the Lieutenant was my mother!"
"He's thinking of you! Patrick Christenson!" Hubler, who was digging a hole next to him, shouted, "If you didn't fiddle with that damn pistol, you wouldn't hear such things. You practically ran all over Easy Company's defensive line, showing off your pistol to everyone." Hubler said, his eyes involuntarily glancing at Patrick Christenson's pocket.
"Can I consider this jealousy?" Patrick Christenson chuckled, "Don't tell me you're not tempted at all."
"Yes, yes, I am tempted, but I'll get one sooner or later! Damn it!" Hubler finished speaking, no longer bothering with Patrick Christenson, and desperately dug the hole, flinging dirt everywhere.
The brothers of Easy Company spent a whole day making their positions very strong, and then they dug their foxholes, hid inside, and cautiously watched the German positions opposite. But neither army launched an infantry attack, only occasional sporadic shelling.
Early the next morning, Luz arrived at the position carrying a large bag of letters.
"Oh—Malarkey, a pink envelope, and the smell of perfume!" Luz put the large package on the ground, then held up a letter, squinting and smiling at Malarkey, "I feel there's also a photo inside, maybe you can let us see, is it super big breasts? I like it." As he spoke, he pretended to tear open the envelope.
Malarkey ran over and snatched the envelope, his face excited, "Don't even think about it, Luz, you rude person, that's the key reason why you can't find a girlfriend!"
"No, actually I'm not worried about a girlfriend at all!" Luz laughed loudly, then imitated General Taylor's tone, "soldiers, if you liberate France, then there's plenty of wine and women here. But you have to take it easy, you have to maintain your strength, and you still have to beat the Germans. Go, go rescue the beauties here who are imprisoned by the Germans!"
At this time, many brothers gathered around, picking out their letters.
"Lieutenant, yours, like Malarkey's, smells of perfume!" Luz shouted loudly to Parks, who was in the foxhole, "I don't need to smell it, I can tell just by looking!" Luz said, walking over and handing the letter to Parks.
"Thank you, Luz!" Parks took the letter; it wasn't from Virginia, but from Jennifer. This letter surprised Parks because Jennifer had rarely written to him since he left Taccoa Base.
"Dear Reese!" Parks read softly, then couldn't help but smile slightly and continued to read, "I originally wanted to wait until after graduation to write this letter to you, but I really couldn't hold back. I miss you, Reese, I think I've fallen in love with you! I originally thought that my longing for you would fade after you left, but I can't do it…"
"…My studies are also coming to an end. I am now interning at a bank in the Hamman District. I really like this job; it gives me passion. I think after I graduate, I will always work here. This place makes it difficult for me to give up…"
"…Forget about California. After the war ends, let's live here together, find our passion here. This is my call to you, a woman who loves you. I hope you can consider it carefully, and my feelings! Your loving Jennifer…"
Parks couldn't help but frown. Jennifer seemed to be forgetting the small bar she once talked about. But this was actually her own choice; perhaps she was more interested in money. Parks smiled bitterly, then put the letter away in his jacket pocket, but from beginning to end, he didn't smell the so-called perfume that Luz mentioned.
At this moment, he suddenly saw Donald passing by his foxhole. He looked very dejected. He was holding an opened letter in his hand.
Donald was in a bad mood, which had a lot to do with the letter he received today.
Luz had handed him a letter written to Brown. And Brown had already been killed in the battle to attack Carrington a few days ago. But this letter was written before his death. It was from his wife.
"Donald!" Parks called out, wanting to understand what was wrong with this guy.
Donald didn't seem to hear; he walked past Parks' foxhole and continued forward. Parks had to raise his voice again and shouted loudly, "soldier Donald! Wait a moment."
"What?" Donald finally heard the call and reacted. He looked at Parks climbing out of the foxhole in confusion, "Is there anything you need, Lieutenant?"
"Nothing, just wanted to ask, you seem to be idle and dejected right now." Parks nodded at him, "Come into the foxhole, you'll easily become a target for the Germans like this."
Donald nodded, then followed Parks into his foxhole.
"Your letter?" Parks looked at the letter in his hand, then asked.
Donald shook his head and said, "No, Lieutenant, it's Brown's letter!" Then he looked into Parks' eyes and said, "It's from his wife; it was sent before he died! It just arrived at Easy Company now."
"What are you going to do?" Parks stared at him and asked.
Donald shook his head, somewhat at a loss, "I don't know, Lieutenant, please take a look!"
Parks took the letter, quickly read it, and then fell silent. In the letter, Brown's wife, Tang Ruili, told Brown good news: their baby had been born, and she hoped Brown would return safely.
"Lieutenant, what do you think I should do?" Donald shook his head sadly, "I believe the news of Brown's death will be notified to his wife soon, which is too cruel for her. And… I also have a letter from Brown to his wife, but it's covered in his blood. I really don't know what to do? Lieutenant!" Donald's voice choked up as he spoke.
"Tell her the truth. Just say that Brown died heroically in a battle, that he is the pride of American, and our hero. Just tell her that, then mail the letter back to her or hand it to her yourself after the war ends." Parks was silent for a while, then said to Donald.
"Just like that?" Donald murmured.
"That's it, we still have to continue fighting, so we can only do this!" Parks patted his shoulder, "You've done well enough, Donald!"
Donald nodded, he silently got up, and then walked towards his foxhole.
Parks watched him leave, then entered his own foxhole. He suddenly had a strange feeling: if he died on the battlefield one day, would there be another world waiting for him, just like the miracle in his current world? He smiled bitterly and shook his head, trying to dismiss such absurd thoughts.
"Lieutenant!" At this moment, someone behind him called him. He turned his head and saw White, who was squatting not far from Parks' foxhole.
"What's wrong, White!" Parks smiled at him.
"Lieutenant Winters wants you to find a few volunteers to form a small team to carry out a reconnaissance mission at noon." White smiled and said, "I want to ask if I can go?"
Parks looked at him and shook his head, "Forget it, White, you just completed a difficult mission, so just stay here. I'll find other volunteers."
Parks gathered the soldiers of First Platoon and then proposed this reconnaissance mission: "Lieutenant Winters wants volunteers. Is anyone willing?" Parks looked around at the brothers.
But no one volunteered. Reconnaissance missions clearly had no good outcomes; they might even encounter a German reconnaissance team and lose their lives.
"Lieutenant, are you leading the team yourself?" Bloy suddenly interjected, "I want to follow you to carry out the mission!"
Parks couldn't help but look at Bloy in surprise, then shook his head and smiled, "Bloy, I won't be leading this time, but I'll have Sergeant Tibbett lead the team; he's experienced."
Bloy's face showed disappointment, and he stopped speaking.
"Do you still want to go, soldier Bloy?" Parks looked at him with a meaningful smile.
Bloy looked at Parks, finally mustering the courage to say, "I'll go, Lieutenant."
"Very good, Bloy, don't worry." Parks nodded, then turned to the others and said, "Does no one else want to take on this mission? Tibbett, you lead the team, with Donald, Hocker, Ryliek, Moore, and Bloy forming the squad."
"Yes, sir!" Tibbett stepped out. "Come on, guys, we need to get ready."
"Tibbett!" Parks waved Tibbett over, pulled a map from his pocket, "This map shows all the hedgerows and a cluster of farmhouses about 1 kilometer away. Captain Nixon suspects this is the Germans' command post. Watch out for German snipers, and don't take any risks."
"Understood, Lieutenant!" Tibbett took the map, then called out to the remaining men, "Alright, guys, let's go!"
"Why us?" Ryliek couldn't help but complain, "The Germans haven't scouted us, so why should we scout them? I'd rather hide in a foxhole than deliver myself to the Germans. This idea is simply too stupid."
"Shut up, soldier Ryliek! Say such things when you're a staff officer at Battalion HQ!" Tibbett couldn't help but yell, "We're just scouting, not charging, and besides, even if we were charging, you couldn't refuse."
The group fell silent. They moved along the hedgerows towards the German farmhouses. As they approached the farmhouses, Tibbett rushed forward first, stopping at a nearby hedgerow, then hid behind it and waved them over.
"Sergeant, we're close enough," Moore said to Tibbett, "The Germans will spot us."
Tibbett looked at the farmhouse, but it wasn't very clear through the hedgerow.
"Damn it, I can't see what's ahead. Moore, Bloy, Ryliek, get closer and observe that farmhouse!" Tibbett pointed to the farmhouse ahead.
"Alright," Moore nodded. "Bloy, move to the left; Ryliek, to the right." With that, he led the way, darting out from the middle, using the cover of tree trunks around the hedgerows to quickly approach the farmhouse.
"Alright, now I'll see who's hiding in there!" Moore poked his head out, looked around, and found nothing unusual.
"Ryliek, get a little closer," Moore gestured to Ryliek.
"No, no, don't make me do this! Corporal!" Ryliek clearly looked very nervous, waving his hand at Moore.
"Damn it, you have to go!" Moore frantically gestured to Ryliek, then pointed his finger at the farmhouse, "We'll provide cover for you, don't worry, hurry, hurry!"
"No, no!" Ryliek squatted on the ground, not daring to move, almost crying as he said, "Corporal, it's too close there, I'll be spotted by the Germans."
"Bloy!" Moore pointed at Bloy, then pointed at the farmhouse.
Bloy gripped his rifle tightly, nervously looked at Ryliek, then at Moore, and nodded at him. He leaped out, and at that moment, a flash of fire appeared from the farmhouse window, followed by a "bang" of a gunshot.
"Sniper!" Bloy was startled. He had been watching that window, so he instinctively dodged immediately, but still fell to the ground with a "thud."
"Sniper!" Moore yelled, then emptied his magazine at the window. Just then, Tibbett rushed over. He and Hocker dragged Parks into the hedgerow for cover.
"He hit me!" Bloy's shoulder was bleeding. He said to Tibbett dejectedly, "I've been hit, Sergeant, I've been hit, am I going to die? Sergeant, I'm dying!"
Tibbett examined Bloy's wound; the bullet had grazed Bloy's arm, leaving a bloody gash. Bloy's instinctive dodge had saved his life. This was only a minor injury. He took out a first-aid kit, pressed down on the wound, bandaged it, then patted his face: "You're not going to die, Bloy, don't get agitated, relax."
He tied a knot in the bandage, then said to Moore, "Alright, let's go, let's get the hell out of here!"
As soon as they left the hedgerow, they heard the sound of an MG42 light machine gun. The Germans' machine gun tore apart the hedgerow they had just passed, sending branches flying everywhere.
"Faster, faster!" Tibbett, supporting Bloy, moved quickly and low between the hedgerows.
Ryliek seemed somewhat stunned; as he ran, he tripped over a branch and fell to the ground, crying out, "I'm hurt, I'm hurt! Someone help me!"
"Damn it, Moore, take him!" Tibbett yelled back at Moore, "Let's hurry!"
Moore stopped, cursed, and rushed to Ryliek's side, pulling him up. He checked him, saw he hadn't been hit by the Germans, and couldn't help but kick him in the butt, angrily saying, "Damn it, you're a disgrace, hurry up, don't let the Germans really kill you! Coward!"
Ryliek, being dragged by Moore, said with a tear-streaked face, "Corporal, I really was hit, I was knocked down by the Germans."
"Hurry!" Moore pushed him, "Don't let us all be left here by the Germans. Hurry!"
Under Moore's urging, Ryliek desperately followed Tibbett forward, running towards their own lines. Bullets whizzed around them, some hitting the ground, sending dust flying, others breaking branches that splintered and flew, and some bits of branches and dirt hitting their faces, causing pain and leaving streaks of blood.
"Hurry, hurry over here!" As they neared their position, Parks was waiting there, constantly urging them, "Hurry, come over, Gordon, return fire with the machine gun, we need to give them a taste of their own medicine!"
Tibbett dragged Bloy into the trench, then jumped in himself. Moore also jumped into the trench, then yanked Ryliek in, letting him fall to the ground, and didn't look at him again.
"Someone's hurt?" Parks looked at Bloy's bandaged arm and frowned. Why was it Bloy again? But Bloy had only injured his arm, which somewhat eased his mind; at least Bloy's tragedy hadn't happened here. Perhaps it would never happen, but no one could say for sure; war had no predetermined outcome.
"My arm was grazed!" Bloy looked at Parks and smiled, "Lieutenant, thank you for the warning, I knew there was a German sniper there."
"Good job!" Parks patted his shoulder, "Keep it up!" Then he added, "Go find Medical Officer Luo later, he'll treat your wound very well."
Tibbett caught his breath, then said to Parks, "Lieutenant, the German firepower over there is very intense, as you saw, we couldn't get close. We tried our best, but we couldn't figure out what that farmhouse was for."
Parks nodded and said, "It's not your fault, mission accomplished. Take them to rest." He patted his shoulder, then walked towards the company headquarters. Such reconnaissance was pointless; he had to make a suggestion to Winters.
Watching Parks leave, everyone sat quietly for a while. Moore, Donald, Hocker, and Tibbett all jumped into their foxholes; they needed to rest. Only Bloy and Ryliek remained sitting there.
"Hey, Ryliek!" Bloy looked at Ryliek beside him and poked him with his hand.
Ryliek suddenly looked at Bloy, as if waking from a dream, then said lifelessly, "What is it, Bloy!"
"Were you scared?" Bloy looked at Ryliek, as if he was looking at his past self, the timid one who didn't dare to raise his gun a while ago, and couldn't help but sigh.
"Scared?" Ryliek forced a smile, but his mouth twitched, and he didn't manage to smile. "Yes, I'm a little scared, but what's wrong with that? Who isn't afraid of war? Who isn't afraid of being hit by the Germans? Even Lieutenant Parks, I think he must be scared too, right? God, I don't want to die here, I have a girlfriend waiting for me at home."
"Don't say that, Ryliek," Bloy smiled, "To be honest, I used to be scared too, even afraid to fire my gun, but now I'm much better. Do you know why?"
Ryliek looked at Parks, then shook his head and said, "I don't know, Bloy. You know, I just joined the company recently. You know, I got lost during the parachute jump. Luckily, I wasn't discovered by the Germans; I evaded them, but I also missed the time to rendezvous with you guys, so I could only be taken in by later units and then transferred to the company. I don't know why this is happening, maybe it's because I haven't fired many shots, that's the reason!"
Bloy shook his head and smiled, "Actually, it's simple. It's something Lieutenant Parks told me."
"What?"
"You have to remember, you're already dead. Only when you're dead will you not fear death! That way, you'll have the courage to fight!" Bloy looked in the direction Parks had left, slowly saying this.
"What? Death? When you're already dead?" Ryliek laughed, "I'm perfectly alive!"
"Yes, you're perfectly alive now, but if you always remember that in combat, then you're not far from death!" Bloy said this, then struggled to his feet and walked away to the rear. He had to go find Medical Officer Luo now; the wound really did hurt a bit.
"A bunch of lunatics!" Ryliek watched Bloy leave, then shook his head, "To live, you have to be dead? And he still got shot in the arm by the Germans, what's that supposed to mean?"
Ryliek looked around. Not a single comrade came forward to talk to him, so he stood up boredly and walked towards his foxhole. He completely failed to understand what Bloy had said to him.
"We've been on the defensive line for four days now. The weather is still clear, and I'm hunkered down in a foxhole, avoiding German artillery and snipers. I once fantasized about what war would be like, but I've become lost in the reality of it. I don't know how much longer I'll have to remain hidden like a gopher; my brothers and I are all dirty and anxious, hiding underground. If the war ends, I think this memory will stay with me for life—pain, and also hope."
This was a passage Webster wrote in his notebook. He hadn't had time to shave, so his beard had grown into full sideburns. He closed his notebook, leaned back against the foxhole, and looked up at the few clouds drifting in the sky.
The men of Easy Company spent several days in boredom, yet they had to be wary of German snipers and occasional shelling. Small to medium-scale artillery attacks would also occur; if they weren't careful, they could be killed or wounded by the Germans. One soldier in the Third Platoon was shot in the backside by a German for climbing out of his foxhole to urinate.
"What a unlucky fellow!" White said to Gordon, who was in the foxhole next to him.
"He should be considered a lucky fellow. Fortunately, he didn't pee toward the Germans, otherwise his balls would have been in danger!" Gordon clearly viewed things more positively than White.
But this also made Winters even stricter with the men of Easy Company. For those who wanted to climb out of their foxholes, he instructed the platoon leaders to maintain strict control. However, this didn't make the men of Easy Company timid; some still constantly climbed out of their foxholes to get some fresh air, otherwise he truly worried they might go crazy.
In a foxhole next to Guarnere was the First Squad's machine gunner, soldier Woodrow Robbins. This fellow ignored all warnings; he climbed out of his foxhole several times a day.
"Hey, Mr. Gonorrhea, did you see that?" Robbins called out to Guarnere.
Guarnere followed his gaze and looked behind their position, where several fat Normandy cows were grazing. Even when an occasional shell exploded in front of their position, it didn't scare the cows away; they would just run a little, then simply stop moving, only looking towards the position.
"They're much braver than the men of Easy Company!" Guarnere chuckled, "They've gotten used to the sound of artillery and gunfire, which isn't a good thing for them, as animals meant for meat."
Robbins also laughed, "Hey, Mr. Gonorrhea, how about we go get some beef to eat?"
"I'm not willing to take the risk, but I can share the spoils with you!" Guarnere huddled in his foxhole, not moving an inch.
Seeing that he couldn't persuade him, Robbins had no choice but to climb out himself and then shot and killed one of the cows. Then, a fellow climbed out of the foxhole on his other side; it was soldier Bill Howell.
The two of them butchered the cow, then moved the beef back to the vicinity of their foxholes in several trips.
"Guarnere, get your knife out! The two of us can't eat all this beef, we have to share some with you guys!" Robbins shouted at Guarnere, "Do you still want to gnaw on that damned k ration?"
Clearly, the temptation of beef was enough to make Guarnere climb out of his foxhole and share the spoils with the two fellows. He cut off a large piece of steak, then started a fire in the foxhole.
The beef sizzled on the fire, glistening with oil. Guarnere pulled a seasoning bottle from his pocket and sprinkled it on the beef. He had brought it along from the military mess hall in Carrington. Inside was black pepper salt, which had been very useful when they ate beef in Carrington, making it taste much better.
"Here you go, Robbins." Guarnere sprinkled some, then tossed it to Robbins.
"I have this already." Robbins raised a bottle in his hand, smiling triumphantly, "Bill, do you have any?"
"I do too!" Howell chuckled, shaking the bottle in his hand, "Here, Guarnere, you use it yourself!"
The bottle returned to Guarnere's hand. In fact, because of the cow slaughtering and eating incident in Carrington, many people had prepared this item. They always believed that such an opportunity would not be a one-time thing. Now was the time to witness their prediction.
The aroma of beef wafted through Easy Company's position, quickly attracting the attention of others. Soon, a large piece of beef was cut into countless small pieces, and steak after steak was divided, falling into the hands of most of Easy Company's men.
"Lieutenant!" Parks was lying on the edge of his foxhole, observing the movements on the enemy's position with binoculars. Someone called out behind him. He lowered his binoculars and turned around to see Guarnere.
"We found some beef." Guarnere chuckled, "The men thought you should have a share. So…" Guarnere shrugged, knowing Parks would understand his meaning, "Here, this is yours!" He then handed over a large piece of steak, followed by his bottle of black pepper salt.
"How thoughtful! How did you think to collect something like this?" Parks took it, smiling at him, "It's been days since I had beef, I really missed it!"
"Enjoy!" Guarnere smiled, then prepared to climb back into his foxhole.
"Guarnere!" Parks called out to him.
"What? Lieutenant, is there anything else?" Guarnere looked at him, somewhat puzzled.
"Hmm—what I wanted to say is, does Lieutenant Winters have any?" Parks said, holding up the steak in his hand, "If he hasn't prepared any, you can give him half of mine! This is a must, you know why!"
Guarnere paused, then nodded with a smile, "I understand, Lieutenant, I'll go prepare a portion. Don't worry, that cow was very fat, enough for us to eat for a few days." With that, he returned to his foxhole to prepare.
Parks' meaning was actually quite clear: for something like slaughtering a fat cow, once was fine, but if it happened again, then some had to be given to the highest-ranking officer. This was called sharing good fortune. As soon as he said it, Guarnere understood.
Winters indeed received a portion of steak, and even Nixon was treated, as he happened to be with Winters. This made him very happy. After all, no one liked eating those hard-to-swallow k rations.
"Thank you, Guarnere!" Winters said nothing else, he simply thanked Guarnere for the steak.
"It's nothing. The men thought you, Lieutenant, should have some; it's the men's goodwill!" Guarnere said, then climbed back. Clearly, he had done the right thing this time.
"Do you believe they'll remember you?" Nixon skewered a piece of steak with a bayonet, then started a fire in the foxhole and began grilling. He casually asked Winters.
"I don't understand what you mean, Nick!" Winters chuckled, then laughed, "I get it, these are cunning fellows. It seems if I eat this beef, I'll have to speak up for them if anyone complains to Colonel Sink!"
Nixon shook his head and laughed, "When you say that, I don't believe it. Actually, you already saw through Guarnere's reason for doing this, but why didn't you refuse?"
Winters smiled at him and said, "Yes, why didn't I refuse, Nick!"
"Because they are the men of your company. If you refused, what would they think? You must know. This is where you're smart, well done, Winters, this way the men will feel a sense of closeness to their company commander!"
Winters chuckled, "I knew you'd understand, but there's no prize for guessing correctly!" He then raised the steak in his hand towards Nixon, "Too bad there's no black pepper salt, otherwise it would taste fantastic!"
At this moment, he saw Nixon pull out a small bottle from his pocket as if by magic, and then began sprinkling it on both their beef. He couldn't help but laugh, "I didn't expect you to be hiding something like that too."
"You definitely aren't used to carrying such things, because you're the company commander, and I'm just a staff officer!" Nixon laughed, "And I dare say, you probably didn't cook often before."
"You're absolutely right. Usually, I just savor the delicious food that's been cooked, just like this!" As he spoke, Winters had already cut off a piece of beef and began chewing it vigorously, nodding at Nixon with his cheeks puffed out, and saying seriously, "Hmm, it tastes quite good. It seems your cooking skills are pretty good."
Easy Company's beef feast brought temporary joy to many. For two consecutive days, they enjoyed delicious beef, and it was also because these two days were relatively calm, with only occasional shelling or sniping, and no one was injured.
But the next day, the situation worsened, and the German artillery fire intensified. Machine guns continuously sprayed dirt everywhere in front of their positions, and then with a "bang," a shell exploded very close in front of Howell's foxhole.
"Damn it!" Howell cursed under his breath, quickly leaping out of his cover and running towards Guarnere's foxhole. Just then, a second mortar shell exploded almost at the same impact point.
Guarnere was pressed down by Howell jumping on him. He couldn't help but complain, "Damn it, you're on top of me." He tried to move, but his waist was pinned down, unable to move at all.
"Howell!" Guarnere shouted, but there was no response. He forced himself to turn his body to look, and saw Howell's eyes, wide as brass bells, staring intently at the shells exploding in front of their position.
With a "boom," the shells gradually drifted away from them.
"Damn it!" Howell cried out. In fact, he cried out with every explosion.
"Enough, Howell!" Guarnere shouted again, "Quickly move your clumsy body, you're crushing me, I can barely breathe, do you want to kill me?"
The shells moving away quickly brought Howell back to his senses. He heard Guarnere's shouts, then quickly rolled over and got up, smiling apologetically at him, "I'm sorry, Guarnere, I didn't mean to, I… I just wanted to dodge those damned German shells."
Yes, after two calm days, the men of Easy Company were once again tense from this artillery bombardment. They began to stay in their foxholes again, not coming out easily, returning to their gopher-like lives.
Thus, they endured two weeks, until June 29th, when the 83rd Infantry Division arrived to take over the defensive line.
On the morning of June 29, 1944, south of Carrington, at the American defensive line.
A unit appeared behind Easy Company, their military appearance neat, wearing brand new uniforms, new helmets, and even their rifles were new, still emitting the scent of fresh guns.
"Our reinforcements are finally here!" Luz's eyes curved in a smile, and then he let out a whistle.
"Good morning! soldier!" A Lieutenant officer smiled and greeted Luz. He looked spirited and full of smiles, as if he had come here for sightseeing and tourism, appearing relaxed and at ease.
"Hey, Malarkey, look at these guys, they're dressed like ceremonial soldiers for a holiday celebration," Shifty nudged Guarnere beside him and whispered.
"These idiots, they think this is a holiday vacation. Look at their faces full of hypocritical smiles, it's really uncomfortable!" Guarnere complained to Shifty, then loudly shouted at the group of soldiers, "Hey, you forgot to wear your wreaths, or you got the time wrong, you're late."
"You should have come a long time ago, making us stay in this dirty place for so long," Malarkey also shouted loudly, "Forget your hot baths and delicious cheese, kids, don't talk sweet nothings to the Germans like sissies!"
"We are from the 83rd Infantry Division, here to liberate you. You can go home to your mothers. Watch us go to Berlin!" An 83rd Division soldier loudly responded.
"Alright then, buddy, help us hang that little mustache!" Cobb interjected loudly.
"Time to go, fellows, we're heading to the field camp at Utah Beach. There are hot baths, drinks, maybe even ice cream, and all sorts of facilities for us to use," Winters loudly called out to the brothers of Easy Company.
"Hey, look at these guys, they look like they just came out of a meat grinder," an 83rd Division soldier said to a Lieutenant standing nearby.
"Yes, that's right." The Lieutenant nodded, then said to his soldiers, "Keep your posture low, don't let the Germans shoot you. We're not here for a trip, as those guys said."
The soldier nodded, then hunched over and moved towards the defensive position.
"Thank God!" Ryliek crossed himself when he crawled out of the foxhole. He was finally relieved; he could finally leave this place that had kept him on edge, which greatly relaxed his mood.
He left the foxhole, then stood up, stretched, and let out a comfortable sigh.
"Damn it, do you want to be a target for the Germans?" Parks was hunched over, retreating with the other brothers of Easy Company, and then he saw Ryliek standing upright, and couldn't help but shout loudly.
"Lieutenant, what are you saying?" Ryliek was clearly not very focused. "Aren't we supposed to be from..."
Before he could finish his sentence, a gunshot rang out. From a fence not far away, a German sniper had fired, and then Ryliek was seen falling headfirst to the ground.
"Enemy attack, enemy attack! Get them!" Parks pointed his finger at the fence where the German sniper was hidden. Instantly, gunfire erupted, and both the 83rd Division and Easy Company opened fire there. Several machine gunners from the 83rd Division even used their machine guns to sweep the area, tearing the fence's branches into flying splinters. Then, a German rolled out from behind it, shot into a honeycomb.
"Ryliek, hold on!" Parks pressed one hand against the wound on his neck. The bullet had entered his neck, tearing a large gash, with bloody flesh exposed and blood gushing out.
Parks wrapped his wound with a first-aid kit. Ryliek was shaking uncontrollably. His body was convulsing.
"Alright, Lieutenant, let me handle this," at this moment, Medical Officer Luo rushed over, took over from Parks, gave Ryliek emergency treatment, and then shouted loudly to the rear, "Stretcher, quickly!"
Watching Ryliek being carried away, many brothers of Easy Company gasped and then became very cautious. They hunched over, preferring to crawl back to the rear like moles rather than become casualties like Ryliek while retreating from the defensive line.
"God!" At this moment, an 83rd Division soldier who had just relieved them and was still lying on the ground couldn't help but cry out. The scene just now was truly too shocking for them.
The fresh red blood, the death-like struggles, and the helpless eyes gave them a vivid lesson.
"Alright, fellows, let's leave this damned place!" Parks looked at the fresh blood on his hand, then wiped it on his clothes, and led his brothers away from the defensive line.
"Poor Ryliek!" Bloy looked at the spot where Ryliek had been shot and fallen, couldn't help but shake his head, then hunched over and quickly left for the rear. He also wanted to leave this place quickly. He and the brothers of Easy Company had been here for two weeks, and now he couldn't stand to stay for even a quarter of an hour longer.
Away from the defensive line, the brothers of Easy Company dared to march upright.
"How miserable you are, how miserable you are, how miserable you are now, so miserable you can't speak..." A monotonous song drifted along the retreating path, like a strip of cloth hanging from a tree branch.
"What song is this?" Luz said to Thomas Warren, who was humming, "Why does it sound like a birthday song to me? Is it someone's birthday today? But listen to these lyrics, they're simply great, much better than a birthday song."
"My brother taught me this. He's in the Marines, went to the Pacific to fight the Little Japanese!" Warren laughed.
"Good song, I like it!" Luz nodded. "It should have a good name!"
"Marine Corps Song." Warren chuckled, "They call this the Marine Corps Song. I guess they must be having a really tough time. Clearly, the Japanese are no easier to deal with than the Germans."
"I like it too. For us now, it's pretty good too. We've withdrawn from the front line, and we've all survived. This is our birthday. Very good, very good!" Guarnere also nodded in agreement from the side.
For Easy Company, coming down from the front line, even for just a few days, was a relief. The thought of being able to sleep soundly without disturbance, free from artillery harassment, not having to go on patrol, being able to eat a hot meal, sleep in dry clothes, and especially being able to take a hot bath, felt like living the life of an immortal.
They briefly reorganized in Carrington, then boarded trucks and headed to Utah Beach.
Watching Carrington gradually shrink in the distance until nothing could be seen, only a winding road stretching seemingly endlessly into view. The officers and soldiers of Easy Company sat in the back of the trucks in silence. They had experienced countless battles, big and small, and now they received news that they could go to Utah Beach and even have a vacation in England. This brought them great emotion.
Webster sat in the back of the truck, looked up at the sky, which was still clear, with a few white clouds. But he had never felt the sky so vast or the sunlight so warm.
The truck drove into a field camp at Utah Beach. Then it stopped in an open area.
"Guys, everyone get down. We've arrived in paradise, we've crawled out of hell!" Parks was the first to jump off the truck, then laughed and shouted loudly to the brothers in the truck behind him.
"God!" Suddenly someone in the ranks shouted, "There are women here!"
Apparently, someone had spotted a field hospital in the nearby field camp, where several female nurses in white nurse uniforms were hanging sheets and clothes in a large open area outside.
"Woah—" Luz also chuckled, "I like it here, paradise always needs angels."
"Hi—I'm Thomas, Thomas Warren, from Virginia." Thomas walked along, waving at the nurses and calling out loudly.
His loud voice clearly attracted the attention of the nurses. They smiled and waved at the soldiers, then giggled and picked up their buckets, walking towards the field hospital.
"Hey, Warren, they won't notice you, don't even think about it. Look at you now, with a bushy beard, dressed like a beggar, and you smell awful," White mocked from the side.
"Yes, now he gets excited whenever he sees a female! Look at how smug he is!" Guarnere chuckled.
The brothers of Easy Company at the field camp enjoyed brand new barracks, hot baths, and delicious food, and could even taste fruit soda. Thinking about how they had been stuck in that underground-like foxhole this morning, living like moles, many felt as if it were a dream.
"This reminds me of Camp Shanks in New York," Malarkey said to Patrick Christenson, who was comfortably enjoying a hot bath in the washroom, "I feel like I'm back in America!"
"Yes, we're going back soon, but not to America, to England!" Patrick Christenson laughed. "But even if it's England, I like it, with comfortable beds and girls!"
Winters' company command post was a comfortable large barracks. Here, Parks, Nixon, and Welsh were enjoying fine wine. They all sat comfortably in chairs, leisurely savoring the wine and eating the fruit provided by the camp for officers.
"I heard that Colonel Sink's requested medal might be awarded soon," Nixon said to Winters, who was writing in a notebook, "You will receive a very high-quality medal!"
"Are you very concerned about this?" Winters didn't look up; he seemed lost in thought.
From June 6th, there were a total of 139 officers and soldiers of Easy Company who parachuted into the Normandy region. By June 29th, when they were relieved from the front line, only 94 combat-ready officers and soldiers remained. The officers killed in action were Lieutenant Thomas Mihan and Lieutenant Robert Matthews; Sergeants included William Evans, Elmer Murray, Murray Robert, Richard Owen, and Carl Riggs; Corporals included Jerry Wenzel, Ralph Wimmer, and Herming Collins, as well as thirty-five soldiers.
For the 101st Airborne Division, the Battle of Carrington was the final engagement of the entire Normandy campaign.
They were then gradually transferred to a field camp north of Utah Beach, equipped with radio, telephone, and bulletin boards, where they were responsible for local security, maintaining weapons and equipment, drilling ground formations, and implementing a training program.
The brothers of Easy Company were well-versed in all of this; they trained formations on the drill ground, by platoon, and changed formations according to commands under the leadership of their platoon sergeants.
"What do you think of these guys?" Nixon, Winters, and Parks sat together on a high point overlooking the beach, and Nixon asked Winters.
"What else can I say? Everything is like being back in Taccoa, just not as intense. No night marches, no sudden cross-country runs, and no unprincipled punishments." Winters glanced at Nixon, then nodded, "Most importantly, Sobel isn't here yet!" He said, his lips curling slightly upward into a faint smile.
"What we need to do now is keep an eye on these guys and make sure they don't cause trouble," Parks said with a smile. "That's the only thing we need to do well, isn't it? Just yesterday, several guys got drunk and got into a fight with some from the 502nd Regiment. It almost went to the military police."
"What a headache!" Nixon smiled, then looked at Parks and Winters and said, "Now there's good news and bad news, about both of you, which I heard in the battalion headquarters staff office."
"Don't play that trick, just tell me directly!" Parks shook his head and smiled at Nixon.
"Both of you will receive medals, that's the good news. The bad news is that Parks's medal might be of a lesser grade." Nixon looked at Parks with some sympathy. "This is absolutely unfair to you."
Winters also frowned, looking at Nixon with an inquiring gaze, "I know you know the reason, tell me, what's the deal here?"
"No deal, Winters!" Nixon sighed, "It's because of something that happened before this, before we entered the south of the Carrington defensive line, in that town. At that time, Parks had already completed his rescue mission. Colonel Sink accepted an interview with McCullum, a reporter from the Washington Star."
Winters nodded, "I know about that. I heard Colonel Sink also gained a lot of fame in the country because of it."
"soldier Cobb from Parks's platoon caused trouble!" Nixon nodded. "Cobb got drunk, spat at McCullum's car, and swore at him, which made the reporter very unhappy. He complained to General Taylor, believing it was a problem with the platoon's officer. So General Taylor chose to compromise; he downgraded Parks's meritorious service to appease the reporter's anger!"
Parks didn't speak. Although he didn't care much about medals, being able to receive a high honor only to have it unjustly taken away left him in a poor mood.
"A reporter's words outweigh the bloody battles of officers and soldiers; this is simply too good! It's absolutely wonderful!" Winters said angrily. "Why don't they let those reporters pick up guns and go deep into the German command center? Or let them stay in a hail of bullets, or huddle in foxholes like moles?"
"This is why the Army Department always gives blind orders!" Nixon was also a bit angry. "Perhaps General Taylor could conscript that reporter into the U.S. Army, preferably as a soldier, and let him experience how soldiers fight against the Germans." Then he sighed helplessly, "That McCullum has some skill; he's a veteran reporter with some fame in the United States, which I think is also why General Taylor compromised!"
"Alright, this is not a big deal!" Parks stood up, brushed the dirt from his pants, and then smiled at them, "I'm already lucky enough. To be promoted from a non-commissioned officer to a Lieutenant officer on the third day of the Normandy campaign, and in less than a month, I'm already a Lieutenant. For a non-commissioned officer who hasn't attended military academy for a single day, what is there to complain about? They've already treated me well enough."
Nixon nodded, also stood up, and patted his arm with a smile, "It's great that you can think that way. I was worried you might not accept it at first, which is why I leaked the news to you in advance, so you'd be prepared. It seems I wasted my effort."
"But, thank you anyway!" Parks smiled, "This result is already good; at least they haven't demoted me, which is lucky enough for me!"
Winters also smiled. He didn't offer words of comfort, but simply patted Parks's arm and smiled, "Let's go!"
The three men walked down the embankment and headed towards the barracks on the beach. The morning sun was gentle, casting long shadows of the three. Life at the Utah Beach barracks had officially begun; this would be a brand new day.
For some of the soldiers in Easy Company, their concern was how to make themselves more comfortable, or how to gain more benefits. They tried every possible way to get food and supplies.
"I know a way to get into that warehouse!" Moore whispered to Malarkey. There was a huge supply warehouse about 100 meters in front of them.
"Don't be silly. There are soldiers guarding it, don't even think about it." Malarkey clearly didn't believe him.
This made Moore very eager to prove his ability. He chuckled and said, "Just wait, Malarkey, I'll surprise you." With that, he returned to the camp. When he reappeared, he was carrying two bottles of fine wine, which he had found in a cellar in Carrington.
"You want to bribe them with this? I don't think it'll be easy!" Malarkey still wasn't convinced.
But Moore said to him, "You stay here, I'll go alone!" Then he walked forward and shouted loudly at the two sentries, "Hey, Ser Moya, do you remember me?"
One of the soldiers looked at Moore, then exclaimed happily, "Is that you, Moore? I can't believe I'd run into you here. I heard you went to join the Airborne Division, I didn't expect to meet you here." Then the guy turned to the other soldier and smiled, "This is my neighbor, we often played together. You can call him Moore!" Then he introduced him to Moore, "This is Kendia."
"Nice to meet you!" Moore smiled, then held up the wine bottles in his hand. "I saw you from afar, so I brought you some fine wine. I collected this from Carrington, high-class stuff!" He said, handing over the wine.
"Thank you very much, I knew you wouldn't forget me if you got something good!" The soldier named Moya said with a smile. "You know, after we arrived at Utah Beach, we've been stuck here, with no chance to fight the Germans at all. It's truly a shame. I heard your Airborne Division did well in Normandy, I'm really envious!"
"Yes, we often talk about you!" Kendia also smiled. He opened a bottle of wine, took a swig, and exclaimed, "This is really good; French wine tastes so pure."
"Of course, drink up, drink up. I have more!" Moore watched them drink sip by sip, then looked around with his eyes and smiled, "Are you two just guarding the warehouse here? What's inside? Are you afraid someone will steal it?"
Moya smiled awkwardly, "Oh, it's nothing much, just some supplies and food."
Moore thought for a moment, then smiled, "Can I go in and take a look?" Then, seeing Moya's hesitant expression, he said, "Don't worry, I won't make trouble for you. I just want to take a look, Moya, don't you trust me, your neighbor? We grew up playing together. Come on, open it up and let me see!"
Kendia was also stunned. He looked at Moya, then at the wine bottle in his hand, and said with a wry smile to Moya, "Just let him look. Maybe your friend is just curious, it shouldn't be a problem!"
"Alright, but you have to remember, don't touch anything inside." Moya smiled wryly and shook his head, then pulled out the key and opened the warehouse door. When Moore stepped inside, he froze, then a wave of ecstasy washed over him; there were indeed good things in here.
Malarkey watched from a distance as Moore continuously chatted with the two sentries and even gave them two bottles of wine, couldn't help but shake his head and mutter, "You'll regret it, you fool!"
But in less than fifteen minutes, he saw Moore emerge from inside, warmly bidding farewell to the two sentries. But he was carrying two cardboard boxes, which seemed quite heavy.
"Hey, Malarkey, come here and help me!" Moore shouted to him.
"You're amazing!" Malarkey was truly impressed. "Assorted fruits, pineapple? Oh, God, I love you so much, Moore, you're like an angel, always bringing joy!"
Moore and Malarkey had a great haul, but some others couldn't find a way, so they just spent all day wandering around the field hospital, hoping to talk to the pretty nurses there! In short, they wouldn't be idle.
In the afternoon, a big shot arrived at the field camp: Lieutenant General Omar Bradley. Many people guessed his purpose, which was to award medals to the officers and soldiers of the entire Airborne Division for their outstanding contributions during the Normandy campaign.
This was a very grand awards ceremony. A high platform was set up in the field so that General Bradley could overlook all the Airborne Division officers and soldiers participating in the ceremony. And it would also allow all the officers and soldiers of the Airborne Division below the stage to see the medal recipients.
He stood on the small platform erected in the field and read out the commendation order for awarding the Distinguished Service Cross to 11 individuals. Among these 11 were General Taylor, Father Maloney, and Lieutenant Winters.
"You are a very fine soldier!" This was what General Bradley said to Winters when presenting him with the award.
Winters was indeed happy; for a soldier, this was a great honor. But in his heart, there was still a very big regret: Parks had not received this honor with him.
General Bradley left after presenting the Distinguished Service Cross, and the entire unit was dismissed. Officers and soldiers who received other medals would be awarded by their respective Division HQs or battalion headquarters. Parks received the Silver Star, along with all other commandos. And Dukeman also received an additional Purple Heart.