"Sergei's injury was such a rookie mistake!" Winters complained to Welsh afterwards. "Did you find the guy who fired that mortar round? I need to teach him a lesson!"
"It was soldier Fitt Redd, a veteran!" Welsh shook his head. "He fired three mortar rounds in one go to show off his authority to the new recruits. Luckily, Sergei only sustained minor injuries."
"How lucky!" Winters said grumpily. Clearly, the downside of live-fire exercises was that any slight misstep in the plan could lead to casualties. If Sergei or Muck had been hit this time, Winters would have faced severe punishment, possibly even demotion.
Because of this incident, the live-fire exercise was forced to stop. Winters decided to make thorough adjustments before resuming the exercise to ensure foolproof safety. However, this incident made the veterans change their perception of the new recruits to some extent.
The local bars in Aldbourne were relatively small and didn't pique the soldiers' interest. They preferred the military service club, at least there the alcohol selection was richer, with their brothers' favorites, able to satisfy different tastes.
"Is your arm okay now?" Muck asked, smiling at Sergei, who had already removed his bandage. "Anyway, thank you very much."
"I know, Sergeant, you've said it many times. It's nothing, if you really want to thank me, just buy me a drink!" Sergei was enjoying Muck's current attitude towards him.
"No problem." With that, he walked to the bar, then brought over two beers. After handing one to Sergei, the two clinked their glasses.
"To the live-fire exercise!" Sergei laughed.
"To brothers!" Muck suddenly raised his glass and shouted loudly.
"To brothers!" All the brothers in the bar immediately raised their glasses in response.
Beer glasses clinked together, then picked up golden waves, everyone seemed very excited. The glasses of both new and old soldiers also clinked together with a crisp sound at this shout.
Guarnere chugged his beer, then laughed to Landers beside him: "Why do I feel like Muck is imitating Colonel Sink, 'To brothers'? It's really touching."
Landers, holding his cigar, nodded and smiled: "You can't deny, that guy named Sergei is indeed very lovable. Perhaps they are also guys worthy of our respect."
At this moment, Guarnere looked at the three new recruits sitting nearby. He smiled at Landers: "I need to go say hello to your brothers, at least now I think they're worth it!"
Landers smiled: "Of course, but you have to be polite, my brothers are not to be trifled with either."
Guarnere chuckled and then walked over, sitting between the three, and smiled at them: "Hey, can you introduce yourselves? I heard you're all under Staff Sergeant Landers!"
"Yes," one of them said respectfully, nodding, "My name is Logan, Derek Logan."
"Rhys Huxley."
The last one was about to say his name when Guarnere suddenly raised a finger and shook it at him: "Don't speak, let me guess your name. I think you should be Miller, James Miller, right?"
Miller quickly nodded: "Yes, Sergeant."
"I know you!" Guarnere nodded. "You once discussed our Lieutenant Parks with Heffron during a night march, didn't you?"
"Yes, Sergeant!" Miller nodded honestly.
"Hmm, I have a good impression of you!" Guarnere nodded. "So, would you like to tell me what your impression of your squad leader, Staff Sergeant Landers, is? Don't worry, he's a bit far away, he won't hear you."
The three looked at each other, not knowing what to say.
"Speak up, Staff Sergeant Landers would rather his subordinates speak ill of him to his face than have someone talk about him behind his back." Guarnere chuckled, "Who wants to go first?"
At this moment, Landers, standing nearby, shouted to Guarnere: "Hey, Guarnere, don't scare my brothers."
"Don't worry, "Big" Bill Guarnere," Guarnere laughed loudly, "Your brothers will sing your praises."
"Yes, Sergeant. We are very satisfied with Squad Leader Landers!" At this point, Miller thought about his words carefully, then spoke cautiously, "He always takes care of us. We learned a lot from him!"
Guarnere nodded, then said to the other two: "What about you?"
"Us too!"
"You truly are good soldiers!" Guarnere chuckled, then said to them: "Remember, rookies, listen to Squad Leader Landers, understand? He's the smartest person in the company."
The three nodded at Guarnere.
"Alright, I still have some fun to find!" Guarnere stood up, turned back to Landers, raised his glass with a smile, then walked over, "They have a really good impression of you, much better than my new recruits."
Landers took a puff of his cigar, nodded and smiled: "You brought this on yourself! Go drink your beer, buddy!"
Miller watched Guarnere leave, then laughed: "Huxley, that guy is so funny!"
Huxley nodded and smiled: "Honestly, I actually really like him. He's the most lovable guy I've met after Squad Leader Landers, I really like him."
The three were talking when they suddenly heard a voice beside them say: "Hey, where did you get this?" Then a hand reached out and poked the bar-shaped chest badge on Miller's chest.
"It's the Presidential Unit Citation. For… for the regiment's performance in Normandy!" Miller saw it was a veteran he didn't recognize, so he just nodded at him.
The questioner was Cobb, and he looked at Miller with an annoyed expression: "That's right, it's for the regiment's performance. But you weren't there."
"Hey, Cobb! Don't be so hot-headed!" At this moment, Tibbett nudged Cobb's arm. "That's a commendation for the entire regiment, everyone gets one."
Cobb didn't say anything. He looked at Miller but didn't speak.
Miller couldn't help but fall silent, his face somewhat pale. His lips then moved a few times, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he didn't. He quietly took off the badge, placed it on the table, looked up at Landers, and then stood up and left!
Huxley and Logan also quickly stood up and followed Miller out.
Landers took a puff of his cigarette, then, holding his cigar, walked over. He picked up the badge from the table, looked at it, and suddenly looked up at Cobb and said, "Fuck you, Cobb. You're not a good guy!" Landers said, and without another glance at Cobb, he turned and left.
"But I participated in Normandy with the brothers, why are you saying that about me?" Cobb was a little unconvinced. He complained to Webster, who was sitting next to him, "Is it just because he's a Sergeant?"
Webster shrugged his shoulders, spreading his hands, indicating he wouldn't interfere.
"If it were me, I'd say the same thing." At this moment, a voice came from behind Cobb, "Fuck you, Cobb! You really aren't a good guy!"
"What?" Cobb didn't expect anyone else to say that. He turned around and saw White standing behind him. He was looking at Cobb with an expression of disdain. White's tone was not good, and it carried some sarcasm. Clearly, he had been standing behind listening for a long time.
"What did you say?" Cobb was getting angry. He could tolerate Landers, after all, he was a Sergeant, but he couldn't tolerate White. "Do you want to say that again?" His tone was hostile.
"Fuck you, Cobb!" White repeated heavily again, still with that very disdainful tone.
"Damn it!" Cobb turned around and lunged at White. He was completely enraged by White and just wanted to punch that hateful face hard.
With a "bang!", as soon as Cobb lunged forward, White quickly punched him in the face. He was not one to take a beating.
Cobb stumbled, falling backward. He tried to grab a table, but the table was also crushed to the ground with him, and the wine bottles on it shattered everywhere, leaving Cobb looking utterly disheveled.
"I'll make you pay!" Cobb scrambled up and charged at White, but was quickly grabbed from behind.
"Let me go, damn it, you bastard!" Cobb cursed, trying to kick White with one foot, but his body was firmly held from behind, unable to move. He struggled desperately, but couldn't move an inch. Clearly, the person holding him from behind was on a completely different level.
"Cobb, I told you to stop, so stop. Do you still need to kick me?" The voice from behind was familiar to Cobb; it was Parks.
He was startled, stopped struggling, and then felt the hand behind him loosen. He turned to Parks, somewhat awkwardly saying, "Sorry, Lieutenant, I didn't know it was you." Then he glared angrily at White again.
Parks looked calm. He said to Cobb, "Alright, I don't want anyone from my platoon causing trouble here." Then he said to Landers, ""Big" Bill Guarnere, keep an eye on those two." With that, he walked away.
Cobb glared fiercely at White, then also walked away sullenly. For him, today was truly humiliating.
"Are those two guys just full of themselves?" Barry, sitting on a chair nearby, asked Sergei, "Do they often fight and cause trouble in public like this? It's incredible!"
Sergei suddenly whispered mysteriously to Barry: "Want to know why?"
"Tell me, don't keep me in suspense!"
"That guy who left is called Cobb. The other one is called White. Do you know why they fight? It's because Cobb killed a French civilian in Normandy, so White has always disliked him." Sergei seemed very mysterious.
"Alright, Easy Company, dismissed!" Welsh stood at the assembly point on the training ground, waving his arms and shouting loudly. His voice was so loud that everyone at the assembly point could hear him.
"Oh, here we go again. How many times have we been dismissed? Or rather, how many times have plans been abandoned before we even had a chance to assemble?" Hubler grumbled with some dissatisfaction, "Why can't those big shots plan things properly before informing us? This is truly awful."
"Do you really need to go to war?" Liebgott shot him a displeased look, "I don't want to fly in the sky again and then throw myself into a vulnerable position, letting the Germans use us as target practice. If I died like that, that would be truly awful. Yes, absolutely terrible."
Hubler turned to Patrick Christenson and said, "Listen to this guy," then turned back to Liebgott, "So, buddy, can you tell me what kind of soldiers we are? Paratroopers. Jumping out of the sky to be targets is our destiny. It can't be changed. Or if you don't want to die like that, why didn't you become an infantryman?"
"Like the Fourth Infantry Division?" Patrick Christenson chuckled from the side.
"Yes, like the Fourth Infantry Division!" Hubler chuckled, "Those poor guys are still curled up in foxholes, gnawing on k rations. They're still bleeding and sacrificing on the front lines, and they can't even shower."
After Hubler said that, everyone fell silent. They remembered their days in Normandy, days filled with injuries, torment, cowardice, and courage. Now, suddenly, due to one emergency deployment after another, those days no longer seemed distant. They felt as if they had just passed, right before their eyes.
Sunday, August 28th, in the morning, the 506th Regiment held a memorial service for the martyrs who died in Normandy. Lipton announced this news during the morning drill on Saturday.
"God, are those guys at battalion headquarters thinking with their butts?" Cobb complained, "Why are they encroaching on our rest time? This is unfair." He spoke to Talbert with a face full of frustration.
"Are you saying they could have done this this morning or next Monday?" Talbert glanced at Cobb, then shook his head, "This isn't an easy matter. Forget it, Cobb, don't be so particular!" Talbert said as he left. This news actually didn't make anyone feel particularly good.
Although for the men of Easy Company, the person who issued this order should be cursed, and despite many complaints, they were just talking. After all, grumbling was their inalienable right.
Easy Company boarded a bus and arrived at battalion headquarters, located at Lord Welsh's Manor in Littlecote, on the outskirts of Chilton Foliat. The scenery here was very pleasant, and even in summer, one could feel the coolness.
"They really know how to enjoy themselves," Guarnere exclaimed.
"Alright, men, assemble!" When they walked onto a soft green lawn, Lipton started shouting again, "Easy Company, no dawdling."
The men of Easy Company, along with other companies, formed their ranks, and then the band began to play a funeral march. They stepped in time with the music, moving towards the high platform for the entire regiment. But the music was too slow, and everyone stepped out of sync.
The entire regiment was assembled, 2,000 young American soldiers covering the grass like a dense brown carpet, with the magnificent castle towering before them, forming an inspiring scene.
The chaplain, McGee, gave a speech, praising the fallen as brave, and America as worthy of their sacrifice, stating that those who died had not died in vain.
"Almighty God, we kneel before You, asking to be instruments of Your wrath in striking down the forces of evil, this evil that has brought death, sorrow, and degradation to humanity on Earth… When we leap from airplanes into the dark abyss, when we descend with parachutes through enemy fire, please be with us, God. When we jump from our parachutes and take up arms to fight, please grant us wills of steel and abundant courage. The legions of evil are countless, God, by Your grace, let us face and defeat the enemy in Your name, in the name of freedom, in the name of defending human dignity… Our enemies, who live by the sword, fear dying by the sword and abuse violence; let them reap what they sow. God, please help us to fight bravely for You and to face victory with humility."
"Well said!" Parks suddenly said to Winters beside him.
Winters nodded. He looked up at the sky and then said, "Yes, well said."
General Taylor walked onto the platform. He surveyed the soldiers below, who all looked up at him, calm, as if without fear or desire. He took a deep breath and then began his speech: "Brothers of the 506th Regiment, I am proud to stand here and remember our lost brothers with you…"
At this moment, a huge roaring sound faintly came from the sky, then vibrated their eardrums, completely drowning out General Taylor's voice.
"It's a C-47," Welsh looked at the sky and muttered to himself, but his voice was also quickly drowned out by the roar of the plane, only he himself could hear it in his heart.
Everyone looked up at the sky. The C-47 formation flew across the sky, which reminded many of the brothers that they had once crossed the vast strait from such planes, and then, in the dark night, braving the flashing ground fire, they had leaped, disappearing into the vast night sky.
General Taylor stopped his speech. He did not continue. He just quietly watched all the brothers looking up at the sky. He knew what they were thinking.
After waiting for the plane formation to finally pass and silence to return, everyone noticed that General Taylor had somehow left the platform. He was not angry at all because of the brothers' impoliteness; he even smiled.
Lieutenant Colonel Strayer walked onto the stage. He took a deep breath, and then said in a heavy tone, "We were once one, we were once like brothers. In Normandy, our brothers experienced a harsh battlefield, and some brothers remained there forever. In Normandy, we lost four hundred and one brothers."
Four hundred and one brothers; this made the brothers below the stage gasp. They had never considered this number, but once it was mentioned, they couldn't help but feel a strong sense of unease.
Lieutenant Colonel Strayer read out the list of martyrs and missing persons on the stage. For the brothers, this was a long, unbearable process, a process that severely impacted their hearts.
The list seemed endless, and each name read out made the survivors in the squads, platoons, and companies gasp sharply.
Every time he heard a familiar name, Parks' heart would involuntarily twitch. He felt as if he was back in that scene of continuous gunfire, as if the gunshots and shouts there were echoing in his ears.
"Grenade! Two of them!"
"I've been hit, I've been hit, I'm going to die, Sergeant…"
"They're dead, it's too late, Landers, let's go!"
"Drop all your gear, we'll move light, hurry, hurry!"
"Doctor, doctor, hurry, damn it, hurry!"
…
"What are you thinking?" Suddenly a voice interrupted Parks. When he looked up, it was Winters, who was squinting at him, "You don't look so good, do you need to rest?"
"No, no, no need!" Parks quickly shook his head, looked at the stage, there was no one there anymore. Lieutenant Colonel Strayer had finished announcing the list, and then Colonel Sink announced the dismissal. "Let's go."
Winters nodded, then glanced at Welsh and said, "Let's go, buddy! The living suffer more than the dead! We should worry about ourselves."
"You're right!" Welsh nodded and said, "One day, you'll be mourning me here again."
For the veterans, this experience merely stirred memories of their lost brothers, but they all knew that their future might be even more difficult. Just as Winters said, "The living suffer more than the dead!"
Two days after this event, the men of Easy Company went on alert, then, along with other companies in the regiment, took buses to the assembly area—Monkton Farleigh Airfield outside Aldbourne. They ate steak, eggs, fried chicken, white bread, milk, and ice cream, and checked their weapons and equipment.
"Is it finally starting?" Heffron checked his equipment once again, then excitedly said to Miller, "I can't believe our first operation is starting like this. Ice cream, steak? Truly unforgettable!"
"Yes, truly unforgettable!" Miller nodded, then smiled faintly at Heffron. He was checking his rifle, then preparing to sling it over his shoulder.
"Rookies, remember, you must be ready before you jump, or you'll be digging your own graves." Cobb suddenly appeared in front of the two of them. He took Miller's rifle, aimed it, then shook his head and said sternly, "Look at your rifle, it's almost covered in cobwebs. Can you kill Germans like this? Damn it!"
"Yes, I'll clean it!" Miller felt a bit unnatural facing Cobb, which stemmed from their previous conflict.
As they were talking, Welsh then relayed something that pleased the old men of Easy Company. This mission was canceled; the British Second Army had preemptively completed what the airborne troops were supposed to do.
Parks looked at the jubilant Easy Company men and couldn't help but take a deep breath. He knew that before long, there would be a battle that would inflict heavy losses on the airborne troops—Operation Market Garden. This made him deeply melancholic about it.
While the men of Easy Company awaited their parachute jump, they welcomed two new replacement officers: Lieutenant Raymond Fuli and Lieutenant Bob Brewer, which replenished Easy Company's officer ranks.
Lieutenant Heliger became Parks's deputy, Lieutenant Fuli became Pikaque's deputy, and Lieutenant Brewer took on the role of third platoon's deputy leader.
Heliger was an old officer of Easy Company and was highly trusted by the men.
Many had even compared him to Winters, believing he possessed talent not inferior to Winters, and he also deeply won the hearts of the men, which was very important.
In September, the atmosphere at the 506th battalion headquarters was tense, with officers constantly moving in and out, their faces hurried and excited.
The Allied forces continued their sweeping advance through France and Belgium, and the time for the airborne troops to enter the war was drawing nearer.
"This plan is called Operation Market Garden!" Winters took a map and pointed at it, "General Montgomery's plan has received General Eisenhower's support, and we will be a part of the operation."
At Easy Company's company headquarters, Winters held a document Nixon had just brought from Battalion HQ and said to the officers of the company, "The commanders of the airborne troops believe that the airborne forces possess the best soldiers, the most excellent commanders, the highest morale, unparalleled mobility, and sophisticated equipment in the European theater."
"They are eager to demonstrate the irreplaceable role of airborne troops in the war, so they have very high hopes for this operation and intend to fully commit to it!" Nixon explained from the side, "Clearly, they have overlooked the actual situation of the airborne soldiers.
Not everyone likes to fight to the death in war."
"The information we have received is not yet the official operational plan, but we need to start preparing.
I estimate the detailed briefing will only come after we arrive at the Montbéliard assembly area," Winters said to the officers, "For now, there's no need to tell the men, but every officer must be mentally prepared."
"I personally am quite optimistic about this operation; if it succeeds, we will end the war very quickly," Nixon continued, "God will be on our side."
This remark made everyone laugh.
In war, no one expects God to be on any particular side, but occasional luck can often determine the success or failure of a battle.
"Dick, what do you think of this operation?" Parks suddenly interjected, looking at Winters with a somewhat solemn expression, as he knew that "Operation Market Garden" was historically a failed operation, especially for the airborne troops, who suffered severe losses.
Winters looked at Parks, then at the surrounding officers, pondered for a moment, and then smiled, "I hope to end the war as soon as possible, and this operation will undoubtedly make my wish come true sooner."
"Do you still have doubts?" Nixon looked at Parks in confusion, "General Eisenhower is very optimistic about General Montgomery's plan; of course, there's still an element of gambling on luck!"
"God will be on our side?" Parks couldn't help but shake his head and smile, "When gambling on luck, there is no God!
I still don't know the exact plan, but I hope it goes as we wish!"
Parks knew he couldn't say anything now.
The briefing for the operation hadn't yet reached the company headquarters, so he didn't have a chance to speak up.
But he would definitely try to voice his opinion, even if it was a tiny butterfly's wing that could change the outcome, he had to try.
For the Allied forces, this was a gamble; they would put all their chips on the table, then roll the dice, waiting for the outcome.
Win or lose, everything was decided by God.
But could God decide?
For a while, the Allied forces had advanced too smoothly.
They had optimistically underestimated the morale of the German soldiers, and their courage.
"Reese, we might be participating in one of the largest airborne operations," Nixon said, trying to comfort Parks, seeing his low spirits, "It's absolutely worth giving it a try."
"I know, I know!" Parks suddenly felt a bit annoyed, "Dick, I'm a bit tired!
Is there anything else?"
Winters looked at Parks strangely, frowning; he rarely saw Parks like this, not even after returning from the deep German rear to raid the German command.
"Alright, dismissed!" Winters nodded, then said to the other officers.
Except for Welsh and Nixon, the other officers left.
Parks was the last to leave; as he opened the door, Winters called out to him.
"Reese!"
Parks stopped, turned around, and looked at Winters: "What is it, Dick?"
Winters nodded at him, "Don't mind sitting for a bit longer?"
"Alright!" Parks shrugged, then nodded, "Anyway, I'd just go back to sleep."
Saying this, he walked in, found a chair, and sat down at the table.
Nixon brought him a drink and smiled, "Have a glass, my favorite, Emerald '69 vintage; there are still several bottles left, but I guess if we really parachute again, it'll be hard to find such good wine!"
"It'll be hard to find wine to your taste, Nick!" Welsh smiled at him.
"You're right!" Nixon raised his glass, took a sip, "I like this taste."
"Tell us, is there anything you need our help with?" Winters looked at Parks, "I know you definitely have something on your mind; don't hide it, tell us, treat us like brothers!"
"Exactly!" Welsh also nodded at Parks.
Parks looked at Nixon again, and Nixon smiled at Parks, "You don't seem to think highly of this plan.
Or perhaps you seem tired of airborne operations.
Please don't tell me you chose the latter!"
Parks gave a bitter smile and said, "You know me; I'm very willing to fight alongside the men.
I... I'm just a little worried.
Remember what I said before? We've been too optimistic about the development of the situation!"
Welsh immediately burst into laughter, saying, "Hearing that from you again makes me almost incredulous.
You performed a great service in Normandy, sending those Germans scrambling.
When everyone else is so optimistic, you show worry; if Colonel Sink knew, he would definitely have a good talk with you."
Parks smiled, looking at Welsh, "Will you tell on me, Harry?"
Welsh chuckled, "Depends on your performance."
Winters saw that the conversation was straying, so he cleared his throat and said to Parks, "Hmm, I know you're worried about the men in the company.
Many veterans have been through Normandy, and they don't want to participate in combat again; that's understandable."
"Yes, Dick, I can understand that, but what I'm worried about isn't that, but that the men in the company will suffer a major defeat, or even heavy losses, without achieving victory.
That would be too cruel for the men."
"Then tell me your reasons!" Winters looked at Parks, speaking calmly.
Parks nodded, then looked at Nixon and said, "Now the commanders all have a sense of optimism, which is top-down, and the men have been infected by it.
So in many people's minds, they've treated the Germans as a flock of sheep, being herded by our Allied forces, and they believe they will herd them all the way to Berlin."
"Isn't that true?" Welsh interjected, "As it looks now, the Germans are retreating steadily, and they can't organize effective resistance at all.
Look at General Patton; he's unstoppable."
"You admire him a lot?" Parks couldn't help but smile at him.
Welsh shrugged, spread his hands, smiling, looking as if it was the most obvious thing.
"I think we've all underestimated the Germans' determination to resist!" Parks then shifted his gaze to Winters's face, looking at him very seriously, "Because this operation, if successful, will mean we invade Germany.
And the Germans will be fighting a great defensive war to protect their territory.
That's the difference from previous wars."
"Invade?" Welsh nodded and smiled, "I like that word!"
"So, that's our misjudgment!" Parks said with worry, "Don't underestimate that resolve to defend one's country, especially for the Germans, who have arrogance in their bones; never underestimate them!"
Winters nodded and said, "I know, you make a lot of sense.
But we will formulate a detailed plan.
War isn't just about morale; the plan is also very important."
"I know it's important, but with a plan that relies on God and luck, where is our chance of success?" Parks shook his head and smiled, his smile full of helplessness, "Alright, discussing this is meaningless; those bigwigs won't listen to us."
Parks had spoken his mind, feeling a little lighter.
He stood up, then picked up the glass of wine Nixon had poured, drank it in one gulp, smacked his lips, and smiled, "I prefer French brandy!"
"There will be a chance!" Nixon nodded.
"Dick, that's all I wanted to say.
If you think what I said makes some sense, I hope you can report it to your superiors so they make fewer mistakes when formulating the operational plan; that would be good for the men!" Parks walked to the door, then suddenly turned back to Winters and said.
"I will!" Winters nodded, then watched Parks walk out.
"Do you think Parks makes sense?" Welsh looked at Winters, "At least his analysis moved me."
"What about you?" Winters asked Nixon.
Nixon looked at Winters and smiled, "You clearly have the answer in your own mind, why ask me?
If you insist I speak, I think you should report it to your superiors, at least to let Parks know your stance.
You support him.
That will be good for him!"
Winters nodded and said, "Yes, this answer is irrelevant!" As he spoke, a slight smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
Early morning, September 14, 1944, Camp Aldbourne.
Suddenly, a sharp whistle broke the tranquility of the dawn. The sky, still shrouded in thin mist, seemed to be startled awake, emitting sounds that grew from subtle to noisy. Gradually, the whistles and commands merged into a torrent of sound, sweeping across the entire sky above Camp Aldbourne. At this moment, the clouds on the horizon seemed to be struggling, revealing a glimmer of light.
"Easy Company, assemble!" The command came, "First Platoon to the front, hurry up, fellas!" Patrick Christenson pulled a small liquor bottle from beside him, took a swig, and shouted loudly at the soldiers.
"This is the nineteenth time!" Miller muttered under his breath. He had already lost his initial excitement; every round trip from the airport could completely wear down a person's passion. There were also many times when the mission was issued, but they never actually departed.
"Yes, is there a problem?" Malarkey, next to him, looked at him strangely.
Miller shook his head and said, "No problem, Sergeant!"
Malarkey stopped talking to him and began to silently move forward with the team. On a road outside Camp Aldbourne, a long line of buses waited, and some of the brothers had already started boarding.
"Is it real this time?" White, sitting next to Parks, asked. He had intentionally moved to Parks' side to try and get information about this operation.
"I'm afraid it's real this time!" Parks nodded, "This is a big operation, and we need to be fully mentally prepared." After Parks finished speaking, he looked at White again and said, "Are you scared?"
White laughed and said, "No, when we used to carry out missions together, maybe a little. Now, what I'm thinking about isn't fear, but how we're going to get through the difficult days that are coming, one after another."
"Yes, but someone has to get through it!" Parks nodded, then looked out the window. The trees along the road outside the window were rapidly blurring, speeding backward. And all of this, in the gradually brightening morning, brought with it a gust of wind that made one's breathing feel a little tight. He suddenly said, "White, we are going to face even harder times than before. No matter what, don't lose your courage." He didn't turn around, just looked out the window.
White looked at Parks, nodded, and said, "I know, you too!"
The winding convoy sped along the highway. The vehicles, fully loaded with Airborne Division soldiers, gradually left Camp Aldbourne. They were like birds leaving the forest, about to fly across the strait, and open beautiful parachutes in the sky. But then, it was also destined, how splendid and tragic those beautiful parachutes would be?
How many of those soldiers sitting in the buses would never return here, but would forever rest in peace in a foreign land?
Later, the vehicles drove into the Monbéliard Airport assembly area. The Easy Company barracks were not far from Monbéliard Airport; they could see planes constantly taking off and landing, and even more C-47 transport planes continuously landing in the sky.
The next day, the brothers from each company received briefings from their officers.
"This operation is called Operation Market Garden. It is a larger-scale airborne operation than the Normandy landing, deploying a total of three Airborne Divisions. This is a daytime airborne operation, unlike the Normandy landing. This time, we will completely catch the German by surprise. The initial landing sites only have light anti-aircraft guns; we will not encounter ground resistance!" Winters reported this at the company's NCO meeting, "The Allied objective is to seize the roads between Eindhoven and Arnhem, allowing two British armored divisions to move towards Arnhem. Our mission is to liberate Eindhoven and stay there, waiting for the tanks."
"We will penetrate deep into Netherlands, and intelligence shows that most of the German forces in Netherlands are old men and children. Moreover, we will strike by surprise. In short, we can say goodbye to England. This time, I don't think they will ever cancel the operation," Nixon added during the briefing.
"The entire European offensive has halted to allocate resources for this operation. This is General Montgomery's plan, supported by Eisenhower. We will be under British command!" Nixon continued.
"Oh, that's really bad news!" A sigh of lament immediately arose in the barracks. It was clear that the brothers were not optimistic about fighting with the British army; they always believed they were the best.
Nixon smiled slightly and said, "The good news is, if this operation succeeds, our tanks will cross the Rhine River and enter Germany. This will end the war very quickly, and we can go home before Christmas."
"I like that!" Malarkey nodded, his face beaming with joy, and said to Guarnere, "That's the main point!"
"Who wouldn't?" Guarnere also smiled along.
After the briefing ended, the non-commissioned officers dispersed, leaving only a few officers in the company tent. Winters and Nixon were still exchanging views and discussing in low voices.
"Excuse me!" Parks walked over and said to Winters, "Dick, is this our plan?"
Winters looked at Parks, then nodded and said, "Yes, Reese. I'm sorry, I have already suggested it to Battalion HQ. Major Horton appreciates your idea, but he still insists on executing the Allied plan."
"Dick, you've done your best!" Nixon also said to Parks with an apologetic tone, "We know your thoughts. But you must understand that a person's words carry little weight. Our suggestions won't be taken seriously unless you can provide enough evidence to prove that the German are indeed as you say, possessing extraordinary courage and determination to resist the Allied."
"I don't have evidence now, but in every operation, we can't always consider victory first; we also have to consider failure. If we fail, what will happen to us? If the German are as I said, able to resist stubbornly, what kind of losses will we suffer? Have those bureaucrats at Allied Command thought about it?" Parks' tone was somewhat aggressive, but he was also a bit exasperated. Now, perhaps the entire Allied forces are filled with optimism, including the Airborne Division soldiers who are about to participate. Ending the war before Christmas, what a tempting and beautiful lie that is. But it could absolutely lead the entire Airborne Division to eternal damnation.
"This kind of leapfrogging offensive by the Airborne Division, once met with a strong German counterattack, will lead them to an isolated and helpless situation, and the losses will be absolutely immeasurable, Dick!" Parks still tried to persuade Winters. But he knew, even if he persuaded Winters, what then? His suggestion had already been rejected by Battalion HQ.
Winters obviously agreed with Parks' opinion to some extent, but he was also helpless. He merely looked at Nixon. And Nixon shrugged his shoulders at him, spreading his hands to indicate his helplessness.
Parks sighed helplessly, "The 101st Division is the closest division to the British 30th Corps; our pressure will be much less than the other two divisions. The British First Airborne Division is the furthest from the 30th Corps, located at the end of this offensive. They will seize Arnhem Bridge, which is the Allied's final passage to enter Germany. However, once attacked, they will also bear the greatest pressure. The losses will be absolutely immeasurable. I'm saying this out of public interest; no matter how I look at it, I'm not optimistic about this operation!"
Winters was stunned for a long time before saying to Parks, "I know, I know." Then he pondered for a moment and said, "How about this, Parks, write down your ideas as a complete plan, and then give it to me!"
"Didn't Battalion HQ already reject it?" Parks couldn't help but ask.
Winters patted his arm and smiled, "I'll find another way! Major Horton is too rigid. But Colonel Sink is different; he can at least listen to opinions, and if we're lucky, he might even think about them!"
Nixon looked at Winters in surprise and couldn't help but say, "Dick, are you sure you want to do this? Aren't you afraid Major Horton will be displeased? Even if the plan is feasible, Colonel Sink will still have an opinion of you."
"I know what to do, Nick!" Winters smiled at Nixon, "I know my limits, don't worry!"
Parks also nodded. Although he knew that Winters' bypassing the chain of command might entail some risks, this risk was worth it. Operation Market Garden, even though the 101st Division was the closest to the 30th Corps and faced the least pressure, still suffered significant losses. Although Easy Company had fewer casualties, dozens of brothers were still killed or wounded.
"Okay, I'll write up a report as soon as possible and give it to you tonight!" Parks nodded, then saluted Winters. Winters quickly returned the salute, watching Parks turn and leave. He remained lost in thought for a long while.
"Are you really going to do that?" Nixon asked again, watching Parks leave. He was starting to worry about his old friend now; this was, after all, not a good thing.
"Yes, I have to!" Winters nodded and said, "Even if things don't turn out as Parks expects, I still have to do this. He said something right: we shouldn't consider the fruits of victory first; we must first consider the dire consequences of failure."
"Then. Are you going to hand Parks' plan directly to Colonel Sink?"
Winters looked at Nixon and smiled, "Do you have a better idea?"
"No!" Nixon shook his head, "But this is definitely not the best way!"
"I know, but it's the only way we can think of right now!" Winters nodded, looking somewhat helpless yet resolute.
"I just hope it doesn't turn out as Parks said!" Winters sighed, then fixed his gaze on a huge map hanging inside the tent in front of him, staring intently but no longer speaking.
Parks walked out of the tent. By this time, the brothers of Easy Company had already understood their mission. Like everyone else in the Allied forces, they were optimistic about this operation. Especially some veterans, as ending the war early was a huge temptation for them.
Thus, on this day, almost everyone seemed very excited. And since there were no entertainment activities in the assembly area, the most they did was start gambling.
On this day, the new soldier, Peisi, became the biggest winner. He won about a thousand dollars. This was a huge sum, considering it was equivalent to two years' salary for an Airborne Division soldier. This made the veterans very frustrated, as several of them had lost all their money.
"Alright, now let's go occupy Germany. I want to capture more spoils of war to make up for my losses!" Patrick Christenson said fiercely, gritting his teeth after losing his last banknote.
Patrick Christenson had lost all his money, and he gnashed his teeth, wanting to vent his resentment on the Germans. Although there was still some time before their airborne drop, it seemed he was getting a bit impatient.
"Are you a bit impatient?" A voice suddenly came from behind Patrick Christenson. He turned around and saw it was Parks.
Patrick Christenson quickly saluted and said, "No, sir, I'm just complaining about this damn luck!"
"Don't complain about luck. Think about our airborne drop and do what you're supposed to do. You need to act more like a veteran setting an example, not complaining about luck here, Corporal Patrick Christenson. Do you think you're ready for this airborne drop?" Parks's tone was very stern.
This surprised many of the brothers around them, as Parks had always been very amicable in their eyes. He got along well with the brothers, respected them greatly, and they in turn respected him.
"Yes… yes!" Patrick Christenson was a bit slow to react, stammering his reply, "It's my fault, no excuses!"
"Alright, carry on!" Parks said, not looking at him again, and turned to leave. He had just left Winters and originally wanted to check on the brothers in the barracks, but he saw a group of people gambling enthusiastically, and then heard Patrick Christenson's words. Such blindly optimistic remarks coming from a veteran made him a bit angry.
"Carry on?" Patrick Christenson watched Parks turn and leave, then couldn't help but look back at the brothers around him, saying in confusion, "Is there something wrong with the Lieutenant or with me?"
"The Boss can't be wrong, Patrick Christenson, it must be you who did something wrong!" Guarnere sat aside, chuckling at Patrick Christenson. "Don't expect us to sympathize with you. Clearly, the Boss is in a bad mood today, and you're spouting nonsense here. If you don't get unlucky, who will?"
"Alright! I agree, as long as the Boss still takes me along for future operations." Patrick Christenson raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, you guys, I still have a gold watch, a German's. Peisi, take a look, how much is it worth? This was worn by a German Colonel, it's very valuable!"
"Colonel?" Peisi suddenly perked up, took the watch, and carefully examined it. "This is a really good watch, buddy. You killed a German Colonel? That's cool!" Hearing Peisi say that, a few more new recruits gathered around. They wanted to hear what had happened. Of course, such heroic tales always excited new recruits.
"Come on, he only killed a Lieutenant Colonel, Peisi, don't let this guy fool you." Guarnere chuckled from the side.
Patrick Christenson glared at him, then smiled at Peisi, "Even though it was a Lieutenant Colonel, killing a Lieutenant Colonel on the battlefield is rarer than shooting a fly with a gun. But I did it, didn't I?"
"Can you tell us about it?" The new recruits asked eagerly.
"Of course, but this watch is very valuable, Peisi, tell me, how much is it worth?" Patrick Christenson took the opportunity to say to the expectant Peisi, "You have to give me an estimate, and then I'll tell you its origin!"
"Three hundred!" Peisi examined the watch for a while longer before saying.
Patrick Christenson snatched the watch back, shaking his head with a cold laugh, "You must be joking, three hundred? This watch is a symbol of honor. Even if it's not war booty, it should be worth more than that!"
"Alright, five hundred, that's all I can offer, considering it was worn by a German Lieutenant Colonel!" Clearly, war booty itself was a huge temptation, especially for these new recruits, and even more so when it was captured from a Lieutenant Colonel.
"Six hundred, and this watch is yours!"
"Five hundred fifty, that's my bottom line! I won't take it if it's any more expensive!" Peisi gritted his teeth, stared at the watch for a moment, then reluctantly tore his gaze away.
Patrick Christenson looked at Peisi, felt he couldn't get any more out of him, and nodded, "Alright, the watch is yours, deal!" Saying so, he handed over the watch.
"This watch…" Peisi asked Patrick Christenson, puzzled.
"Alright, I'll tell you guys, I got this when I followed our Boss deep behind German lines, raided the German command post, and captured it from there," Patrick Christenson said proudly. "We killed several field officers, including their regimental commander, Colonel Hight. God, that was insane. Just thinking about it now, you realize how crazy it was!"
"Commando raid?" Patrick Christenson's words made the new recruits gasp, as the exploits of the commando unit were familiar to every paratrooper. "Captured during the raid on the German command post?" Then the new recruits' eyes were firmly fixed on the watch.
"You got a raw deal, Peisi!" Guarnere chuckled, then pulled out a ring from his body and dangled it in front of the new recruits. "See that? The design on it? Only those awarded by Hitler are qualified to wear this, rookies, make an offer. This is much better than that watch. Anyone want to bid? I also got this during the raid on the German command post. Although it was also a Lieutenant Colonel's, he was honored by Hitler, so it's very valuable!"
The veterans wouldn't miss any opportunity to show off, which could establish their prestige among the new recruits and make them show admiration, greatly satisfying the veterans' vanity, especially for those who had participated in commando raids.
But the soldiers didn't know what Parks was worried about; they just wanted to go wild before the jump. For the veterans, it was a release; for the new recruits, it was an excitement.
Parks stayed up all night, writing his thoughts on the entire "Market Garden Plan" into a plan, which he then handed to Winters. He had to write it quickly, before he parachuted, at least to help the Allied reduce some mistakes, even if they didn't adopt his suggestions.
"Knowing yourself and your enemy is the only way to see hope for victory in war!" Winters greatly appreciated this point that Parks summarized in the plan. He nodded at Parks and smiled, "Thank you, Sink!"
Parks nodded, then said, "You'll personally hand it to Colonel Sink and not Major Horton or Lieutenant Colonel Strayer?"
"Don't worry!" Winters nodded at Parks, then picked up his military cap and put it on. He pulled open the barracks door and walked towards the battalion headquarters.
Parks watched him until his shadow disappeared. Only then did he let out a long breath and sit down.
"This is Parks's plan?" Colonel Sink slammed Parks's plan document onto the table with a "thud." He had strong opinions about Winters bypassing his superiors and directly handing him a plan from a Lieutenant platoon leader.
"Yes, I agree with his views!" Winters stood firmly by Parks's side. He looked at Colonel Sink, not flustered in the slightest. "I think he makes some sense!"
"Some sense?" Sink was clearly angered by him. "This is baseless suspicion; doing this is meaningless. What exactly is he questioning? Asking us to pay attention to Dutch intelligence? Knowing what the Dutch Resistance organization has done before? The British have been fooled by them; is their intelligence credible?"
"And the Germans' determination and strength to resist?" Colonel Sink shuffled through papers on the table again. "Overly long depth, too narrow supply lines… Is he Montgomery or Brereton? Don't forget he's just a Lieutenant, and you're just a Captain. Do your part, Winters, you guys can't worry about these things!"
As Sink spoke, his voice suddenly softened, and he sighed, "Actually, I can't worry about much either!"
"Yes, sir!" Winters suddenly felt a bit helpless.
"Get out of here!" Sink suddenly snapped at Winters. Although Winters was an officer he favored, it was clear he had gone too far this time.
Winters saluted, then turned and left. He had done his best, but the result was not ideal, which was also what he expected. He came here only for Parks, to give Parks an explanation.
Watching Winters leave, Colonel Sink sighed to Colonel Strehl, who was silently standing by, "You've read this plan, what are your thoughts on this matter? To be honest, they are too bold."
Colonel Strehl nodded and said, "Actually, I personally believe that Lieutenant Parks's concerns have some merit. Leaving aside victory, once we face the German's stubborn resistance, the possibility of our defeat will become a reality."
Colonel Sink also nodded, then looked at the plan in his hand, and couldn't help but smile bitterly, "Now we are under British command, which is not good news. The British will not trust the Dutch. There is already Dutch intelligence showing the appearance of German armored units in the Arnhem area, but the British believe this is false intelligence from the Dutch. They have been fooled before."
"So what do we do?" Colonel Strehl looked at Colonel Sink. "If Parks's prediction becomes a reality, we will suffer a major setback, which will be a heavy blow to us!"
Colonel Sink looked at Colonel Strehl and then smiled bitterly, "Actually, I don't have much confidence in this operational plan!" Then he looked at the plan in his hand and said, "The only thing I can do now is to hand this plan to General Taylor in time. I believe this will help them! For God's sake, they should be vigilant!"
Colonel Sink delivered the plan to General Taylor of the 101st Airborne Division that night, with the battalion headquarters' opinion attached to the plan: of significant reference value.
General Taylor immediately discussed it with General Gavin of the 82nd Airborne Division. To be honest, they completely bypassed the British First Airborne Division; they didn't get along with the British.
"Actually, I've questioned this operation plan for a long time!" General Gavin looked at the plan, then smiled bitterly, "This plan is too hasty. If I can truly penetrate the German defense line to the north, that would truly be my luck. And undoubtedly, the British Commander Browning lacks combat experience yet refuses to admit it, stubbornly acting tough. Their Division HQ staff's thinking is too superficial. Why do British operations often make mistakes? Now the problem is getting more and more serious; their unit commanders lack determination and are afraid of hardship and difficulty."
"It seems our opinions are the same!" Taylor sighed, "This Lieutenant Parks is very prescient. We must do something to reduce our losses; that's much better than knowing there's a problem but doing nothing!"
"What can we do?" General Gavin asked. "Nothing! Our suggestions will only be met with strong opposition and cannot be implemented."
Although General Taylor knew the current plan had many problems, even as senior commanding officers, they could not alter the operational plan based on unsubstantiated speculation. Furthermore, the arrow was already on the bowstring and must fly; any changes at this stage could lead to instability among the commanders.
The discussion yielded no result, but General Taylor did send a reply back to Colonel Sink. He called Sink and informed him that the junior officer named Parks should report to Division Headquarters.
This decision surprised even Colonel Sink, indicating that General Taylor took Parks's proposal quite seriously. He had to notify Winters immediately, stressing the importance of the meeting.
Winters was shaving at the company headquarters when he heard Welsh's booming voice: "Dick, Colonel Sink's on the line." Winters wiped his face with a towel and smiled at Welsh. "I hope Sink isn't calling to give me a hard time!" Winters had been harshly reprimanded by Colonel Sink previously and naturally worried he was in trouble again. But his face broke into a smile as he talked to Sink.
"Harry!" Winters put down the phone and smiled at Welsh. "Go find Parks! It's good news."
"Colonel Sink came to his senses?" Welsh grinned. "I thought he was a stubborn old mule. Hopefully, Parks can change the minds of those pig-headed old guys." With that, he headed straight out of the company HQ.
Parks hadn't expected his suggestion would ultimately gain General Taylor's attention. After all, being prepared was crucial for reducing casualties in E Company during the upcoming action.
Welsh found him in the platoon area watching the men shoot craps—his only way to pass the time and avoid worrying about the future.
"Oh, God, my luck is terrible!" Guarnere tossed a few bills down, grabbed his jacket, and prepared to leave. He joked to Parks, who was standing nearby, "Boss, why don't you give these new guys a little taste of reality, so they know how brilliant and mighty our boss is."
"I'm not interested in craps; I prefer Blackjack," Parks said, also preparing to leave. As he opened the door, he saw Welsh approaching.
"Sir!" Guarnere, who had stepped out with Parks, saluted Welsh.
Welsh returned the salute and smiled at Parks. "Dick asked me to find you. I figured you had nowhere else to go, so I tried my luck here. I guess it's good news!"
Parks laughed. "Did Colonel Sink decide to submit the proposal to Division?"
"More than that!" Welsh grinned conspiratorially at Parks. "General Taylor wants to see you! Let's head to company HQ; Winters might have more to tell you!" He turned and left with Parks.
Guarnere walked slowly behind them, listening to their conversation. Clearly, their boss, Parks, had a big plan, and it had captured General Taylor's interest and attention. He watched Parks walk away, a faint smile playing on his lips. What kind of plan could it be?
"That was Colonel Sink. It looks like I'll need to personally accompany you to Regimental Headquarters, and then Colonel Sink will take you to see General Taylor," Winters smiled at Parks, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly. "Lace, your persistence paid off!"
Parks nodded, then shook his head, smiling. "Who knows? Maybe they just want to see why a junior officer like me dared to submit a suggestion about the entire operation. Or maybe they just want to humiliate me?"
Winters shook his head, looking at Parks with a rare seriousness. "You're wrong this time. If your plan can save our men from some losses, that's the best outcome."
"Alright, let's go," Parks nodded, dropping the humor. He and Winters left the company command post and got into a jeep, heading toward Regimental Headquarters.
"Lieutenant Parks, do you understand why you're here? I'm taking you to see General Taylor!" Colonel Sink didn't waste words, stating his intention directly. "The General will ask some questions; I expect you to have constructive answers!"
"I understand, Colonel," Parks replied calmly. He didn't know if his single "butterfly" could change anything, but the wings were starting to beat, however slightly.
The convoy passed the sprawling barracks and drove straight toward Division Headquarters. Colonel Sink rode in the lead jeep, with Parks and Winters following in the second. The headlights cut across the camp, occasionally illuminating marching soldiers.
"What are you thinking about?" Winters suddenly asked Parks, who was gazing at the night sky. "Thinking about what questions General Taylor will ask you?"
"Nothing, I wasn't thinking about anything." Parks looked at Winters, silent for a moment, then asked, "I'm wondering, in the face of such a massive operation, how much influence can one man or one company have? Can we really change anything? Maybe we're just an expendable number."
Winters smiled and nodded. "Yes, the individual is tiny. But I don't think about that. If my superiors tell me to fight, I fight, and I try my best to achieve the objective. If I absolutely can't, I retreat, but I'll do everything I can to keep the boys alive, to get them home intact."
Parks nodded and smiled faintly. "You're right." He paused, then asked, "If the success of this operation means the boys can go home sooner, ending the war faster, and we're asked to execute an extremely dangerous mission, would you send the men to do it?"
Winters looked at Parks strangely. "If I'm ordered to execute it, I must execute it. There's no choice, Lace."
"If it were optional?" Parks pressed.
"If it were optional, I'd choose to execute it." Winters considered, then nodded. "Although it would put the men in danger, paratroopers are always throwing themselves into danger. Besides, we'd have a chance to end this damn war early. I think you'd make the same choice."
Parks smiled, nodded, and said nothing more, turning his attention forward. Division Headquarters was now in sight. Colonel Sink's jeep pulled in, and he jumped out, waving to Parks and Winters as their jeep stopped.
"Hurry up, boys!" Sink called out loudly.
"Go on in," Winters nodded to Parks. "I'll wait for you out here."
Parks smiled slightly at him, adjusted his uniform, straightened his cap, and followed Colonel Sink into the Division Headquarters building.
General Taylor was talking with several staff officers when he saw Colonel Sink enter, followed by a young man. He knew this was Parks, and the young man's outstanding performance had already made a deep impression. The General stood up and walked toward them.
"General," Colonel Sink greeted him, shaking hands. Sink stepped aside, and Parks stood facing General Taylor, who was smiling at him.
"General!" Parks snapped a sharp salute. He was grateful that Taylor was willing to see him, which indicated he wasn't a rigid bureaucrat, and Parks gave him the respect he deserved.
"Lace Parks!" Taylor extended his hand and grasped Parks's firmly, resting his other hand on Parks's forearm. He smiled. "This is our third meeting, isn't it?"
"Yes, General," Parks replied, maintaining his respectful demeanor.
Taylor nodded, motioned for Sink and Parks to sit, and said, "Actually, there's something I feel very bad about. Based on your performance, you completely deserved the Distinguished Service Cross. The final result was regrettable." Taylor didn't immediately ask about the plan but brought up the previous awards ceremony. "The 101st Airborne owes you one, son."
This familiar address warmed Parks. He smiled. "General, the 101st doesn't owe me. If anyone owes me, it's the War Department. They listened to rumors."
Taylor nodded. "Yes, I've always believed that was a rumor."
Parks smiled gratefully. "Thank you, General. That means a lot to me."
Taylor nodded, took a stack of files from his desk drawer, and flipped through them page by page. Parks knew the documents were his plan. He waited for Taylor's questions, but Taylor didn't ask about the plan. He looked up calmly at Parks. "Do you know what your greatest strength is?"
Parks was surprised. He shook his head. "No, General."
Taylor nodded, smiling at the other officers and Colonel Sink. "You know, the biggest impression he leaves on me is his ability to conduct sudden, deep-strike operations behind enemy lines. That is a whole new concept for the Airborne Division."
Colonel Sink nodded, completely agreeing with that point.
Taylor smiled, then addressed Parks. "So, if we put you on the frontline slugging it out with the Germans, it would be a bit of a waste. It wouldn't be using your talent to its full potential, would it?" He directed the last part to Colonel Sink.
"General!" Parks, anxious that Taylor hadn't addressed his plan but was instead reviewing his past actions, spoke up.
"Don't worry, son," Taylor smiled. "If there were another mission like that, which company do you think would be most suitable?"