"Bastogne!" Captain Winters sat in the jeep, with Captain Nixon and Lieutenant Compton behind him. He couldn't help but turn back and murmur to Nixon. It was clear that Parks' judgment was still correct this time; although he had also made such a judgment, he was not as certain as Parks. He didn't know what the source of Parks' unwavering tone was.
"He's always right!" Nixon shrugged at Winters and smiled slightly, "But Colonel Sink hasn't issued a notice yet, maybe we'll go somewhere else!"
Compton chuckled, shook his head, and then looked at Nixon, saying, "The German offensive will be fierce. General McAuliffe has already warned us. And the front line might be very long, we don't have enough men!"
Winters glanced at Compton and said, "That's not our concern, Buck. We only think about how to complete our mission! We have to hold this line."
Compton didn't speak. He looked at the convoy on the road, trying to force a smile for Winters, but he couldn't. From Taccoa Barracks to Europe, Compton had always been optimistic about problems, even after experiencing so many battles. However, he was unfortunately injured, especially when he saw the tragic state of dying soldiers in the hospital, which caused some wavering in his character. Living in the hospital every day, that suffocating and tragic atmosphere made him cautious about everything. Especially when he saw the disabled soldiers with despair in their eyes, he always warned himself: I can't become like that; if I do, I'd rather die!
"Buck!" Winters felt that Compton's expression was a bit strange, and couldn't help but call out to him, "Is there something wrong?"
"No, Dick!" Compton came back to his senses and forced a smile at Winters. Then he turned his gaze back to the convoy; he didn't want to talk anymore. For the unknown road ahead, he was more worried.
Winters opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but he never did. He had already felt that the injured Compton was somewhat different from the previous Compton. He couldn't pinpoint the exact change, but it felt like it made people feel somewhat powerless or stifled. Winters nodded slightly, then stopped talking and looked ahead.
The road ahead was an endless line of trucks, winding like a vast, giant long snake slowly crawling. Faintly, one could still hear the loud singing of soldiers from nearby trucks.
The sky outside gradually darkened, and night enveloped the road ahead. The long line of cars had lights, and from time to time, motorcycles could be seen speeding past the trucks from behind. Those were used by signalmen and messengers; they were in a hurry and kept honking their horns, trying to make the swaying trucks yield.
Some trucks were temporarily requisitioned and had no roofs. The brothers, wearing thick winter clothes, huddled in the trucks. Even so, the cold air outside made these soldiers shiver and huddle together.
"I guess there's no trial blackout; the German Air Force must be sleeping!" Lieutenant Halliger stood in the truck bed with his arms crossed, constantly exhaling hot air. He looked at the lights emitted by the trucks and couldn't help but say with some worry, "If a few bombers came now, we'd all have to go meet the old man upstairs."
"God? Oh, he can't see me. These past few days have really been disorienting. I'm still thinking about Christmas turkey and football games, and now I'm freezing and starving on a night like this." Gordon hung his head, looking listless. It was clear he hadn't adjusted yet, but the word Christmas sounded very distant now.
"Oh, God, I really miss those C-47s!" Guarnere looked outside and complained to his brothers, "I don't want to jump out of these trucks; it's a pain. We rode in a car all day, then they send us to the front line to be trampled by the German. Lieutenant, why is the Fourth Division's problem thrown to the Airborne Division?"
Lieutenant Halliger looked at Guarnere and shook his head, saying, "I don't care about that. I just want to know where they're taking us? God, we don't even know where we're fighting, but we're about to fight to the death with the German."
"It doesn't matter, Lieutenant!" Gordon couldn't help but say, "They just throw us onto the damn battlefield and then tell us: the German are in front of you, go fight to the death, fight them, either you die or they die! Damn it, what is all this? Don't they know that we can also die from getting shot?"
Halliger shook his head and said, "We are paratroopers, we all know that. But from my first jump, I've never landed precisely at the landing point. Don't think about where we should go; wherever the parachute takes us, that's where we go. Now it's still the same; wherever we stop, that's where we fight. That's what a paratrooper is!"
"But except for Second Battalion, the entire Division actually lacks ammunition and supplies. I really worry about how those guys will get through it!" Poupe smiled and took the cigarette handed to him by a new recruit next to him, putting it in his mouth. At this moment, the new recruit lit the lighter for him, helping him light the cigarette. He took a comfortable puff, then held the cigarette and pointed at the long convoy behind, saying, "Our luck has always been good; at least we don't have to suffer from cold and hunger anymore!"
"It's because we have a good company commander!" Halliger glanced at Poupe and said lightly.
Everyone fell silent for a moment. They looked at the convoy behind them, as if this road would never end. Of course, they hoped the road would be as long as possible, so they wouldn't have to stay in foxholes.
"Hey, kid, what's your name?" Guarnere suddenly asked the new recruit who had lit Poupe's cigarette. In reality, the veterans didn't know the new recruits very well. They didn't want to ask because they believed the new recruits would die very quickly, and remembering their names would only make them feel choked up if they died.
"Souce, Souce the Second!" The new recruit looked at Guarnere and answered somewhat strangely. He wasn't at all surprised that Guarnere didn't remember his name, because the veterans always seemed arrogant in front of new recruits; they weren't willing to ask, so the new recruits didn't have a chance to introduce themselves to them.
"Got any cigarettes?" Guarnere had clearly seen Souce hand Poupe a cigarette. He looked at Souce with an ill-intentioned smile, which made Souce a bit unsure, but he still pulled out the only two packs of cigarettes he had.
"Yes, I have some cigarettes!" Souce stammered, then handed the two packs of cigarettes to Guarnere. He saw this as a good opportunity to get close to the veterans, but he obviously also overlooked that veterans were not so easily swayed in their opinions unless you performed in battle in a way that earned their approval!
"Oh, finally said something human!" Guarnere reached out to grab a cigarette, but someone else was quicker and took a pack. Guarnere tore open the pack, and everyone in the truck compartment would get one cigarette.
"Hey, throw it over!"
"Pass it over, damn it, give me one!"
"Who has a light?"
Suddenly, the truck compartment became chaotic, and everyone started scrambling for the two packs of cigarettes. Amidst the clamor, everyone finally got what they wanted, and instantly the compartment was filled with smoke, everyone puffing away.
The convoy brought some noise to the silent, cold night, and the roar of the engines weighed heavily on everyone's hearts. The jeep jolted from time to time; this road was not very smooth. Then they turned onto a small road, which was even more rugged. Winters was constantly bounced off his seat, and every time he bounced, Nixon would curse "Damn it," clearly showing that for someone who had been riding all day and was still riding, he was not in a good mood.
Just then, a two-wheeled motorcycle suddenly caught up from behind and drove parallel to the jeep. Winters looked over curiously. The driver shouted at Winters, "Sir, Colonel Sink wants me to deliver an order!" The motorcycle rider said, pulling a piece of paper from his satchel with one hand and handing it to Winters.
"It seems our guess was very correct!" Winters pulled out his flashlight, shone it on the paper, and then laughed, "Colonel Sink's order is for the same destination as our plan!" He then handed the flashlight and paper to Nixon.
"Bastogne!" Nixon looked at it, then smiled knowingly, and handed the order and flashlight to Compton. "Buck, it looks like we'll be spending some time in the forest!"
At this moment, military police appeared along the way. Wearing armbands, they continuously waved their arms, guiding the brothers of the 101st Airborne Division forward. Under their direction, the trucks turned onto one road after another. They waved and shouted, "Keep going, keep going forward, drive straight through!"
A few kilometers from Bastogne, the truck carrying Easy Company stopped. With a "clunk," the truck's tailgate dropped, and the soldiers jumped off. The moment they stepped onto the ground, they felt the cold wind, like an unstoppable sharp knife, piercing through their thick coats and into their skin, making them shiver all over.
Having been in the vehicle for too long, many people began to stretch their bodies, and their mouths began to mumble continuously, cursing the damn weather. And they could still hear faint sounds of gunfire.
"Oh, damn battlefield! Here we come again!" soldier Freeman groaned after jumping off the truck.
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The truck Lieutenant Halliger was riding in also stopped. The tailgate dropped, and he was the first to jump out, then shouted loudly into the truck, "Alright, guys, get out! Brothers who got cigarettes, finish them quickly, we still have 15 minutes to prepare!"
"Hey, where are we?"
"Definitely not in hell, it's too cold here!"
Someone was mumbling, and Guarnere jumped out of the car, immediately went to the back of the car, unzipped his pants, and prepared to relieve himself. The long journey had made him hold it in for too long.
At this moment, someone poured gasoline into a shell crater by the road, then struck a match and lit it, instantly igniting a blazing fire that immediately attracted a crowd to warm themselves.
"Guys, back up a bit, I've been holding it in for a long time!" Guarnere yelled loudly at the people pushing him from behind. His yelling only made the guys behind him burst into laughter.
"This is Bastogne! A strategic thoroughfare!" Colonel Sink spread a map on the hood of his jeep. He said to Captain Winters and Captain Nixon, "Seven roads in, seven roads out. It's perfect for German armored troop movements. Eisenhower wants to prevent the German from using these roads, so we will set up positions around Bastogne! Dig deep trenches and stick tightly to the German."
Then Sink glanced at Winters and said, "Second Battalion will be deployed in the forest area to the east." Winters nodded, indicating he understood. At this moment, a voice suddenly came from behind him.
"My God, I finally made it!" By the sound of it, it was Colonel Strehl.
When Winters and Colonel Sink turned to look at him, Winters couldn't help but smile slightly, saluting Colonel Strehl with a smile and saying, "Colonel Strehl!" Yes, Colonel Strehl's collar insignia was that of a Colonel; he had been promoted after going to London.
"Go gather the battalion headquarters staff! Colonel Strehl!" Colonel Sink smiled faintly at him and said, "We need to establish a strong battalion headquarters." He quickly sent Colonel Strehl away.
"First Battalion is in the north, as your left flank. They will resist the German attack, and what you need to do is to dig trenches in the forest area as quickly as possible. Remember to dig Parks trenches. Our defensive line, as expected before departure, is too long, so we must compensate for our disadvantage with clever trench arrangements!" Colonel Sink instructed Winters.
"Parks trenches?" Winters asked Colonel Sink, puzzled.
Colonel Sink looked at Winters: "Captain, General Taylor and I discussed it. If we promote this kind of trench in the 101st Airborne Division, we will definitely name it after the person who invented it, so we call the trenches invented by Parks 'Parks trenches.' Is there anything else you don't understand?"
Nixon couldn't help but smile faintly from the side, saying, "This is truly enviable!"
"Third Battalion as reserve forces!" Colonel Sink did not pay attention to Nixon's warm smile. He continued to say to Captain Winters, "We have no other manpower. Winters, no matter what, we must hold this vital road!"
Sink had no other superfluous words. He nodded at Winters and said, "It's all up to you!" As he spoke, he patted his arm and then turned and walked in the direction Colonel Strehl had left. He had to set up the battalion headquarters in Bastogne; there was still much to do!
At this moment, a group of people suddenly appeared on the road ahead. Their appearance greatly surprised the brothers of Easy Company. They were retreating American soldiers. They fled from the front line in disarray, disorganized, and many threw away their rifles and coats, as those were burdens that would only cost them their lives. They looked lifeless, with dull eyes and ragged clothes, like a group of beggars.
"Hey, Guarnere, look, who are these people?" Toy pulled Guarnere, who was still urinating, and then let out a cry of surprise, looking in astonishment at the routed soldiers on the road.
Guarnere, pulled by Toy, urinated on his hand. He couldn't help but curse "Damn it," then, while adjusting his pants, turned and walked towards Toy, and then he also saw the scene on the road, and couldn't help but be dumbfounded.
"Oh my God!" Heffron looked at the crippled, spiritless, beggar-like American soldiers coming towards him, and couldn't help but drop his cigarette butt in surprise! He walked aside and pulled Guarnere and Toy, saying, "Hey, Malarkey, Toy, did you see that? What's wrong with these guys?"
"What happened?" Heffron looked at these guys and asked Guarnere next to him.
"Hehe, you're going the wrong way!" Guarnere couldn't help but shout loudly at some of them, "Aren't you going to Bastogne? Hey, friend, what's wrong with you?" He grabbed one of the American soldiers with a blank expression; the soldier's hair was disheveled, and there were streaks of blood on his body. His face was covered in dust and grime, showing no signs of life.
"What happened? Where are you going? Aren't you here to fight alongside us?" Toy asked the American soldier Guarnere was holding, curiously.
The American soldier looked at them blankly, then shook his head woodenly and said, "You better run, run, don't stay here, they will kill you. God, they suddenly appeared and slaughtered us. You have to leave here! They have tiger, MG42, 88mm cannons, and planes, they are like butchers!"
Guarnere couldn't contain his shock and said to the American soldier, "Hey, brothers, we just got here, give me your ammunition! I'll take as much as you have!"
The American soldier unfastened all his ammunition, letting Guarnere and Toy take it: "You'll need it!" At this moment, Heffron rushed into the ranks of the routed soldiers and shouted loudly: "Whoever still has ammunition, leave it here." Then he turned to the brothers of Easy Company and said, "Guys, let's come over and resupply ammunition. We need to replenish the ammunition we distributed to other battalions. God, this will be a tough fight!" Heffron's words had an effect, and the brothers of Easy Company swarmed forward, surrounding the routed soldiers, and then stripped them of all their ammunition.
"Make way, guys, I've brought you something good!" A jeep drove up from the front. The driver was Lieutenant George Rice, the logistics officer of the Desobry Team, B Combat Command, 10th Armored Division. Winters stopped his vehicle.
"Sir, I know you are short on ammunition. There's an ammunition dump ahead. I brought some bullets and grenades. If you need them, it's best to clear a truck. My jeep is too small and can't carry much. Then follow me to pick up some more ammunition, otherwise we'll just have to blow them up!" Lieutenant Rice said to Winters.
"Thank you very much, Lieutenant!" Winters nodded at him, then he quickly mobilized a truck and followed Lieutenant Rice to the ammunition dump he mentioned. Soon he returned fully loaded with ammunition in a jeep and a truck.
"Guys, come and get it yourselves, take a lot, we're going to have a fierce battle, we need to hold out for a long time! Hurry up, everyone." Winters shouted at all the soldiers of Second Battalion. The soldiers used their hands and feet, desperately grabbing boxes of M-1 bullets. The intense sounds of gunfire in the distance and the fear on the faces of the retreating American soldiers indicated that every bullet they got would be useful. Lieutenant Rice continuously transported bullets until every soldier could carry no more.
"A German armored division is going to cut off the road to the south, you might be surrounded!" Lieutenant Rice couldn't help but look at Winters and kindly reminded him as he started the jeep to leave.
Winters smiled faintly at him and said, "We are paratroopers, Lieutenant, we are supposed to be surrounded!"
"Well then, good luck to you!" Lieutenant Rice said, then started the jeep and sped away to the rear, accompanied by a long, seemingly endless line of ragged American routed soldiers. They came from Bastogne and were now leaving that place far behind, where countless of their brothers had fallen.
Easy Company continued its advance towards the Foy area. As they moved northeast out of Bastogne, the sound of artillery grew louder, mixed with the sound of small arms fire. The fighting ahead became increasingly fierce. The soldiers of Easy Company walked silently, looking at the road, which was gradually becoming covered with snowflakes. The road slowly turned white, and in the darkness, this whiteness made the entire land appear somewhat pale and dim. Their leather shoes crunched on the muddy ground.
Guarnere gritted his teeth, frowning as he looked ahead. He slowly advanced with the team, knowing that the place he was going might be the most difficult he had ever encountered. Behind him was Toy, wrapped in a thick overcoat, his neck pulled into the collar. Snowflakes gently drifted into the collar of his coat, landing on his skin, making him shiver. And although many more people had anxious hearts, they still resolutely embarked on the road to Bastogne.
Perhaps Winters did not expect the situation they would face, perhaps all the soldiers of Easy Company did not expect how difficult a time they would spend in Bastogne, but it was precisely because of their heroic performance in Bastogne that they forged the legend of the American Airborne Division, and they also did not expect that the Battle of Bastogne would make them the most heroic unit in American history.
And only Parks knew this outcome. He knew what the brothers would endure, what they would lose, and what they would gain. What he didn't know, however, was what kind of legend he himself would become after this battle, a legend that American soldiers would always talk about with relish!
The brothers of Easy Company advanced silently, hearing increasingly intense gunfire ahead. Every step they took brought them closer to the battlefield, but they had resolute hearts. It was this heart that brought them one victory after another. Although most of them were now Shrinking the neck, tightly wrapped in their greatcoats, and snowflakes were falling outside, making them feel that the path ahead might become colder and colder.
Occasionally, someone would look up and see the faint flashes of exploding shells. The closer they got to the battlefield, the quieter the team became. The only sound during the entire march was the crunching of their feet on the ground that was beginning to freeze. The air they exhaled quickly turned into a puff of white mist, and some people continuously rubbed their hands.
Captain Winters, wrapped in a scarf, tried his best to cover his neck to prevent the cold air from getting in. Nixon and Compton were behind him, and at this moment, Parks was also by his side.
Captain Winters looked at the faintly lit area ahead, pulled out a map from his Pregnant, turned to Parks, and pointed at the map, saying, "The 1st Battalion has entered the Noville area, and they have engaged the German forces. Colonel Sink has decided to move the 3rd Battalion, the reserve, to Foy. We will protect the right flank of the battalion headquarters. Reese, Easy Company will enter the east side of the Bastogne-Foy-Noville road, with the road on our left. F Company is on the right side of that area, and D Company is on standby as the Battalion HQ reserve."
Parks nodded. Just like in his previous life, Easy Company would enter an area combining forest and open ground. Furthermore, south of Bastogne, the German forces would cut off the road to complete the encirclement of Bastogne. Despite ample supplies, the entire 506th Regiment lacked artillery fire. The entire 101st Airborne Division had only one artillery battalion, a very weak force. And due to the weather, they would also lack air support. They only had grenades, rifle ammunition, and of course, 60mm mortar shells.
In front of the woods was a pasture, and the slope extended to Foy, about a kilometer away. The woods consisted of rows of large pine trees. Parks had his brothers stop and begin constructing bunkers—what Colonel Sink called the Parks Bunker.
"Guys, all we've seen along the way are retreating American soldiers, and all we've heard is how fierce the German attack is. But we have no choice, we cannot retreat, and don't think about these things. What I need you to do is dig good bunkers!" Parks moved among his brothers as they dug, he had to encourage them, "The brothers of the 1st Battalion have already engaged the German forces. We must dig our bunkers while they are engaged with the German forces."
"Those are just Germans whom we have defeated before. We have never lost a battle. They are our defeated opponents, so don't worry, this time, we will continue to defeat them. Look at the brothers next to you, they are all trustworthy. Look, just like Lieutenant Heliger, he is calm and resourceful; look at Mr. Gonorrhea, he is full of confidence and has keen eyesight, not even a fly from Germany would dare to fly past him."
Immediately, a burst of laughter erupted in the forest. It was clear that the brothers greatly enjoyed such words to help lighten the mood. Then, Toy's voice was heard: "Oh, Mr. Gonorrhea, if it were a German girl, he might lose his fighting spirit."
"You're the annoying German fly!" Guarnere immediately retorted.
"The Germans are nothing special. I just hope I can find a luger!" It was Talbert speaking. He had been ridiculed by Hubler for not getting a luger during the rescue operation in Normandy, and it was clear that he had kept this matter in his heart.
The brothers' emotions were just as they expressed. While they felt somewhat down because they were entering the battlefield once again, on the other hand, after having to face reality, they regained their courage. After all, the German forces opposite them did not seem very strong in their eyes. The 1st Battalion had already held them back, making it difficult for them to advance, so it was clear that the brothers of Easy Company were proud and felt they were much stronger than the men of the 1st Battalion.
Parks decided to establish a main defensive line centered around the Parks Bunker during the time the 1st Battalion held off the German forces, and to set up outposts along the edge of the woods based on these bunkers. Captain Winters established the Battalion HQ at the southern edge of the woods, right behind Easy Company. This way, Parks's company could maintain the quickest contact with the Battalion HQ at all times.
Despite the cold weather, the ground had not completely frozen yet, and digging bunkers was not an easy task. Nevertheless, the brothers worked hard, because digging these bunkers meant increasing their chances of survival. Parks constantly urged them on, knowing that any Luck mentality could lead to incalculable losses.
The brothers of Easy Company began digging their bunkers at four in the morning, and they spent the entire day on this task until that evening, when their bunkers were finally deemed qualified after Parks's inspection. Such bunkers brought the brothers a little comfort; after all, they were much better than individual foxholes.
"Guys, it's dinner time!" Wei Si Te stood next to a large pot, filled with a hodgepodge of canned meats, steaming hot. Everyone was extremely tired after a full day of intense digging. They held their mugs and lined up one by one to get their dinner, then leaned against tree trunks or simply sat in the snow. Some even ran into their newly dug bunkers. This was the first hot meal the brothers had in Bastogne, and it looked pretty good. The brothers had hearty appetites.
In the distance, the sound of gunfire could still be heard from about four kilometers away. That was the 1st Battalion's battle with the German forces in Noville; they had been fighting the German forces all day, but the battle was not over yet.
"I can't imagine what kind of beating the 1st Battalion will take!" Malarkey stirred the food in his mug with a spoon, looking in the direction of the gunfire. In fact, every brother wanted to know how the 1st Battalion's battle was going. Was the German attack very fierce? Were the 1st Battalion's casualties heavy?
With these questions, night quietly fell. Around eight or nine in the evening, a heavy snow began to fall. The temperature dropped sharply. Even though the brothers were wearing thick greatcoats and had every part of their heads except their eyes wrapped in thick scarves, and each person basically wore two pairs of socks and thick combat boots, they still felt a chilling cold.
Guarnere stayed in the bunker, his hands tucked tightly into his sleeves. His body trembled slightly, so much so that his helmet shook. He didn't want to speak, because as soon as he spoke, the warmth seemed to escape from his body, and he felt cold all over.
"How's the situation?" Parks appeared in their line of sight. Parks was already covered in a thick layer of snow. He half-knelt by the observation post next to Guarnere and Toy's bunker, brushing the snow off himself.
"Nothing, just white everywhere. And freezing weather!" Guarnere's voice trembled slightly, and Parks even heard his teeth chattering.
"Keep a good lookout!" Parks patted his helmet, then stood up, preparing to check the next bunker. On this first night, he had to keep everyone alert and then make it a habit. Otherwise, in the long days to come, they would feel frustrated, uneasy, and even despair.
"Boss!" Guarnere suddenly called out to him, "Aren't you cold? I still have a scarf, if you need it, I can lend it to you. God, it's colder here than hell!"
Parks smiled at him and said, "Keep it for yourself!" Then he stepped through the thick snow and continued to the next bunker. In fact, with these bunkers, as long as both men weren't asleep, the German forces would definitely not escape the brothers' detection. But on this first night, Parks still insisted on checking the situation himself.
"I bet the Boss's skin is thicker than ours, like a polar bear!" Guarnere, having been rejected by Parks, couldn't help but smile at Toy, "The wind outside is really strong, luckily we have these things covering our heads."
"His chest hair might be a little more than yours." Toy chuckled at Guarnere, "That's why the Boss is more resistant to cold than us!" Then his eyes vigilantly scanned the front. In reality, his and Guarnere's positions formed a triangular slope, offering a wide observation angle.
Parks knew he had checked every bunker and outpost at the edge of the woods before he felt relieved enough to return to his own bunker. He stayed with Welsh, which was originally against regulations, but at Welsh's insistence, he agreed. After all, even if they were truly unlucky and a shell took them both out, the other officers of Easy Company would take over command very well. After all, the officers and NCOs had all undergone such training.
"Anything happening?" Welsh watched Parks crawl into the bunker, smiling at him, "I think the Germans will be considerate of us. It's only our first day, they'll let us get enough rest, and then attack us. But actually, they're currently tied up by the 1st Battalion, unable to move freely. God bless the brothers of the 1st Battalion!"
"We certainly won't let them down. We've dug our bunkers, set up our outposts, and now we're just waiting for the Germans to attack us! Hopefully, God will bless us then too!" Parks looked at Welsh and said, "I hope you remembered to bring out the rum. After walking around outside, I'm truly feeling what cold is like now!"
"Here!" Welsh pulled a canteen from his waist and handed it to Parks, "I always remember these things, don't worry. Dick is right behind us, I still hid the liquor in his box. Of course, Nick's good liquor is also there."
Parks took it, then held it to his nose and sniffed. A burst of alcohol aroma immediately filled his nostrils. Parks smiled slightly, then tilted his head back, gulping down a few mouthfuls. He smacked his lips and wiped his mouth with his hand. A warm current immediately rose from the bottom of his heart, warming his almost frozen internal organs, making him feel an indescribable comfort.
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"This is the best enjoyment!" Parks returned the canteen to Welsh, poked his head out, and looked ahead, saying, "I hope we can get through this battle smoothly.
Then I will remember this experience for the rest of my life.
Of course, if I can live until the end of the war, the first thing I will do is get myself thoroughly drunk, and then let myself go back to another world.
Enjoy a peaceful life.
Live my own life well!"
"Another world?" Welsh looked at Parks strangely, grinned, and said, "Are you sure it's heaven or hell? Or a place far from the battlefield?"
Parks shook his head and laughed; he knew Welsh didn't understand, and of course, he didn't expect Welsh to understand.
He was just feeling emotional for himself.
The initial novelty of this world and the desire to fight alongside his brothers were slowly fermenting.
Although the cruelty of war made him realize the preciousness of brotherhood, he still wished he had never come to this world.
He watched one brother after another get shot, wounded, or even killed in front of him, and that feeling began to suffocate him.
Parks pulled a blanket from his backpack, wrapped it around himself, leaned his back against the cold soil of the trench, and with his eyes slightly closed, he said to Welsh: "Alright, I'm going to rest for a while.
If nothing urgent happens, don't wake me up, and Harry, you'd best send someone to check the sentry post every two hours, and then find someone to relieve them!"
Parks took a piece of chocolate from his backpack and waved it at Welsh, saying, "Want some?"
Welsh shook his head and laughed, "You need it more than I do; to be honest, if I were you, I'd be exhausted!" Welsh took off his canteen, then shook it at Parks, took a swig, and put the canteen back on his waist.
Then he watched Parks slowly put the chocolate into his mouth, smiled slightly, turned, and lay prone on the bunker, looking outside.
Except for the faint white light of the snow, he didn't see anything moving.
Perhaps the Germans wouldn't come tonight.
Welsh thought so, but he knew it was just wishful thinking.
As he thought of this, he couldn't help but turn his head and glance to the side, and he couldn't help but smile.
Parks was wrapped in a blanket, still holding a piece of chocolate in his mouth, with another in his hand, and was already asleep.
It was clear that his continuous efforts to urge his brothers to dig and inspect bunkers and sentry posts, combined with the long car ride, had finally made Parks succumb to exhaustion and fall asleep.
The sounds of gunfire at night gradually subsided after midnight, and the explosions of shells became intermittent.
There were also intermittent sounds of small arms fire, which were very clear in the night, even if faint, they were distinctly audible.
Sometimes, this made some sensitive brothers unable to sleep peacefully.
At two in the morning, Welsh decided to check the sentry posts.
He looked at Parks, who was sleeping, and then crawled out of the bunker.
There was still some distance from the bunker to the sentry post.
Because the defensive line was too long, he walked cautiously, worried that the German might infiltrate, even though he knew the Parks Bunker was an excellent anti-infiltration individual bunker, but it had not yet been tested in actual combat.
A soft "creak" made all the hair on his body stand on end.
He held his submachine gun level, approaching the sentry post step by step, from which a sound seemed to emanate.
He paused, then lowered his stance, quietly crept over, and near the nearest sentry post, he saw the two guys inside; they were drinking, paying no attention to observation whatsoever.
And after drinking, they were loudly singing.
"Damn bastards!" he cursed under his breath, still quietly crawling behind them, and shouted at them, "You two idiots, do you want to summon the Germans? Who told you to sing?"
The two guys were Vinnie, a new recruit added in Momyon, and Sabins, a new recruit added after Operation Market Garden in Netherlands.
The two of them had drunk too much, and their courage grew, so they started singing recklessly.
They heard a voice from behind them, were startled, and quickly picked up their rifles, ready to turn around.
"Damn it, where are you pointing your guns? At your observation front, that's the direction the German are trying to infiltrate from!" Welsh walked forward, then squatted down, looking at the two guys, and said, "Do you know what you're doing?
You'll get the entire company's brothers killed.
If the German infiltrate, even if you escape with your lives, I won't let you off!"
Vinnie quickly stood up and, somewhat flustered, said to Lieutenant Welsh, "I'm sorry, Lieutenant, I promise, I will watch this place."
"Me too!" Sabins also quickly stood at attention and said to Welsh, "We just felt too cold, Lieutenant, we felt cold, so we had a little drink, but it's like an addiction, once we started drinking, we couldn't stop!" Sabins looked very red in the face, but when he spoke, a strong smell of alcohol came from his mouth.
"You'd better be able to do that!" Welsh felt he couldn't forgive them.
He made a note of this outpost, considering having Talbert send someone to replace these two guys when he returned.
Staying in this place for the first day, it would be too terrible if the German infiltrated.
This patrol indeed allowed Welsh to discover some problems.
The brothers at the sentry posts, exhausted from the long march and a full day of digging bunkers, were utterly worn out.
At some posts, one of the two was asleep, and at others, both were dozing.
This made Welsh furious, and he unceremoniously cursed the two sleeping brothers for a while.
After some struggle, things finally improved.
Welsh decided to rotate shifts every two hours.
He informed Sergeant Talbert and instructed him to ensure that the sergeants of each platoon carried it out.
After all, this was of great importance, so Talbert gathered the sergeants and reiterated the arrangements.
Despite this, some problems still arose.
Early the next morning.
The forest after the snow appeared clearer.
Parks woke up again, and Welsh, who was beside him, was already asleep.
Parks covered him with the blanket, then picked up his rifle to patrol the surroundings.
Suddenly, he heard a few gunshots; by the sound, it was the German 98k rifle.
Parks instinctively hid his body behind a large tree, covering himself.
After a short while, two people came running frantically towards him.
He subconsciously raised his rifle and shouted, "Who is it? Hands up!"
The two immediately stopped, and one of them shouted loudly, "It's me, Heffron! There are Germans!" He yelled, pointing behind him.
Apparently, Parks immediately recognized him.
Next to him was the medic Dr. Spina.
Parks waved at them, and they quickly came towards him.
Watching the two run over breathlessly and hide behind the large tree, Parks frowned and said to them, "Germans? What happened?" He looked in the direction they came from but found nothing.
"Captain, we got lost and entered the German position!" Dr. Spina looked at Parks, took a breath, and then suddenly burst into laughter.
Clearly, he regarded this experience as a thrilling adventure with a comedic ending.
It turned out that Dr. Spina had dragged Heffron to the field aid station in Foy, Bastogne, early in the morning to get some medicine.
They wanted to go at dawn and then return quickly.
Clearly, they succeeded.
They successfully reached the aid station, Dr. Spina got some medicine, and even enjoyed hot food.
"We need to go back quickly!" Despite some reluctance, Heffron still suggested returning to the position.
By this time, the sky had begun to lighten.
If it became fully light, they might be discovered by infiltrating Germans on the way, although they had not yet detected any German infiltration.
"Let's take the shortcut!" Dr. Spina suggested; if they took the shortcut, it would be much faster.
Heffron immediately agreed; they had no idea the Germans were nearby.
"Creak, creak," the two stepped on the snow, quickly walking towards the Easy Company's defensive line, but Heffron suddenly cried out in surprise; he had fallen into a pit covered by deep snow, and then he heard faint screams coming from inside.
"Haha.
We're here!" Heffron laughed loudly, then loudly taught, "Hinkel, Hinkel, is that you?"
But what he heard was not Hinkel's reply, but a language he didn't understand, and the only ones who spoke that language were the Germans.
He couldn't help but shout, "Damn it, Dr. Spina, let's run, to hell with Hinkel, those are Germans!" Saying that, he quickly jumped out of the foxhole and ran in the opposite direction.
The branches covering the foxhole were thrown open, and a German emerged.
He yelled wildly, holding his rifle and continuously firing at the two, but this German was too flustered, missing both of them with several consecutive shots.
This German was also badly frightened; he even thought at first that he had been captured by the Americans!
Parks quickly understood the whole story from Heffron, couldn't help but chuckle, patted Heffron's shoulder, and laughed, "It seems your luck isn't bad at all." He then turned to Dr. Spina and said, "What? Are our current medicines not enough?
Aren't our supplies being fully distributed?"
Dr. Spina quickly said, "Sir, it's like this, Captain Winters asked us to adjust with other battalions, so now our medicines are a bit tight.
If the German don't launch a large-scale attack on us, I think it should be enough.
I got some more from the aid station.
It's always good to be well-supplied!"
Parks nodded, then looked at the vast snowy landscape, feeling quite helpless.
The extended defensive line, even with the convenience of mutually supporting bunkers, meant that the German would always find some gaps, so it seemed the brothers' nerves had to be constantly on edge!
On December 20th, the remaining personnel of the 1st Battalion of the 506th Regiment evacuated Noville. In Noville, they, along with Desobry Team of the 10th Armored Division, had tied down the German 2nd Armored Division northeast of Foy, in Noville. When the 1st Battalion withdrew to the rear of Foy on the 20th, out of six hundred men, thirteen officers and one hundred ninety-nine soldiers had been killed.
The 1st Battalion and Desobry Team jointly annihilated at least 30 enemy tanks and inflicted 400 to 700 casualties on the enemy. Most importantly, they held up the enemy for forty-eight hours while defensive fortifications were being built around Bastogne.
Although the German suffered setbacks, they continued to reinforce Noville, which caused greater difficulties for the 1st Battalion and Desobry Team. Without supporting troops, they withdrew from the front line, and the German advanced towards the Second Battalion's front line, with Easy Company's front line bearing the brunt.
"Our only advantage is that the German tanks are inconvenient to operate in the forest, so we face very few German tanks, but a large number of infantry are indeed what we must guard against!" Captain Winters, Nixon, and Parks stood at the very edge of the forest, where Easy Company had a sentry post. From the sentry post, they could observe the entire one-kilometer clearing.
"Our only reliance is this bunker invented by Reese. Hopefully, it can play an important role in the German attack." Captain Winters picked up his binoculars and looked ahead, vaguely seeing the German figures beyond the clearing. They seemed to be preparing, then launching a large-scale attack on Easy Company's front line.
As they were observing, Parks suddenly saw a flash of fire ahead, followed by a sharp whistling sound—the sound of incoming shells.
"Artillery fire, enemy artillery!" Parks yelled, and the three of them almost simultaneously dove onto the snow. A huge explosion boomed in the forest, and the trunk of a large tree was blown apart by a shell in mid-air. The tree trunk swayed and crashed towards Parks and the others. Parks was shocked, scrambled up, and grabbed Captain Winters's and Nixon's collars, pulling them back a few meters. The tree groaned and crashed to the ground.
"Take cover!" Captain Winters scrambled up and yelled at Parks and Nixon, "Let's go back, the German attack might be starting!" He patted Parks on the shoulder and ran quickly towards the rear. There was still some distance from the outpost to the company command post. The three of them ran quickly, while throughout the forest, Easy Company's soldiers were constantly sprinting across the snow, shouting and cursing.
Shells rained down like raindrops, and explosions in the forest were continuous. Broken branches blown into the air constantly flew and then fell, and even the smallest twigs could leave thin blood trails on their faces.
Staff Sergeant Li Pu constantly moved between the various bunkers.
"Lipton, come here! Come to me!" Hubler watched Lipton moving constantly, and he yelled at Lipton, "Hurry up, you're in great danger right now." As soon as he finished speaking, a shell exploded near his bunker, and a blast of air pushed dense clods of earth into the bunker's observation port, pushing Hubler heavily from the observation port into the bunker.
Lipton, watching from not far away, was greatly surprised when Hubler disappeared from the observation port after a shell exploded near his bunker. He yelled, "Hubler!" and rushed over quickly, ignoring the branches falling from the shells, and jumped into the bunker. Hubler was leaning diagonally inside the bunker, his body against the bunker's earthen wall, coughing incessantly. Next to him was Muck, busy feeling all over his body, muttering, "No blood, no blood! Hubler, you were just pushed down by the blast."
Lipton looked at Hubler's grimacing expression and couldn't help but shake his head, "I thought you were dead. I didn't expect you to be so lucky; in such a close-range explosion, you weren't even scratched. You really got lucky!"
"You really want to see me injured? That's not very friendly!" Hubler grinned, struggled to stand up, and said to Muck, "Don't worry about me, I'm sure I'm fine. This bunker is really something, it's great, I like this one!"
"Alright, that's good news. I don't want to face a guy with missing limbs all day!" Muck chuckled, and said to Staff Sergeant Li Pu, "Sergeant, are the Germans finally giving up? They were heavily damaged by the First Battalion's brothers, yet they still want to cause trouble for our Easy Company. I don't think they'll get anything good out of this!"
"Shut up!" Staff Sergeant Li Pu lay on the edge of the bunker, observing the surroundings. The German artillery fire was still ongoing, and the ground occasionally trembled. He couldn't help but sigh, "It really feels like the end of the world! The Germans are so generous, using so many shells to put on a fireworks display for us!"
"Medic! Medic—" Faintly, someone was heard frantically yelling for a medic. Someone had been wounded by a shell.
A large patch of crimson blood stained the snow, and an American soldier lay on the snow, his cries hoarse, like sounds from hell, making one shudder.
Medical Officer Luo braved the whistling shells overhead and the constant explosions around him, running towards the cries for help. From a distance, he saw a man lying on his back in the snow, emitting miserable groans and calls for help. His leg had been blown off, and his severed lower leg hung far away on a branch of a large tree, four or five meters away. Dripping blood stained the pure white snow beneath it crimson.
"Who's wounded?" A loud shout came from a nearby bunker, sounding like Guarnere. He yelled towards Medical Officer Luo, as if about to rush out.
"Stay there, Sergeant!" Medical Officer Luo loudly stopped Guarnere, who was trying to crawl out, "I can manage alone, don't come over, it's still under artillery fire!" According to regulations, only Medical Officer Luo was indeed needed here!
But Guarnere still crawled out. He followed behind Medical Officer Luo, quickly running towards the wounded man. The new soldier Souce was lying on the ground groaning. He saw Medical Officer Luo rushing over and cried out in pain and anger, "Damn it, I've been lying here long enough. My leg is broken, my leg is broken, damn it—God, how am I going to get back?"
"We'll get you back safely, brother!" Guarnere squatted down, put down his rifle, and extended a hand to comfort Souce. The scene was too tragic, so much so that he didn't mind Souce's complaints and curses.
"Morphine!" Medical Officer Luo pulled out morphine from his pocket and injected it into Souce's other leg. He quickly cut open Souce's pant leg to reveal the wound, which was a bloody mess, with fragmented flesh and bones hanging there. Medical Officer Luo skillfully bandaged his leg and said to Guarnere, "As soon as the artillery fire stops, he must be immediately transferred to the medical station in Bastogne, and then transported to the rear. We must get this guy out before we are completely surrounded!"
"Got it!" Guarnere said, and was about to carry Souce on his shoulder when, just as he touched him, a huge explosion was heard. A shell exploded not far from them, and the blast pushed the three of them heavily onto the snow. Souce let out a piercing scream; his blown-off thigh was hit again when he fell.
"Oh, God, it hurts so much, damn it, I'd rather a shell just blow me to death, save me all this suffering, God, what is all this!" Souce roared and yelled, venting his dissatisfaction. Despite the morphine, he was still in excruciating pain and couldn't help but curse loudly in the direction of the Germans.
"Boom—" Another huge explosion sounded. Guarnere, who was about to get up, was suddenly pushed to the ground again by the blast, and it seemed like a fine spray of liquid hit his face.
"Oh, again!" Guarnere cursed, "Damn it!" He got up again and yelled at Medical Officer Luo, who was also getting up, "Are you alright, Medic? These damned Germans!"
"I'm fine!" Medical Officer Luo yelled at Guarnere, gesturing to him, "Let's go see Sabins, we have to get him out, or he'll die here!" With that, the two bent very low and crawled towards Souce.
Souce lay on the ground, neither moaning nor muttering curses. His body twitched intermittently, and he coughed constantly, but with each cough, a lot of bloody foam gushed from his mouth. The light in his eyes was slowly dissipating, and one of his hands clawed at the snow, as if trying to grasp something.
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"Souce!" Guarnere called out. He began to examine his body, pulling open the heavy military overcoat to reveal the flesh beneath. A deep wound was clearly visible on Souce's right chest, throbbing and gushing blood.
Medical Officer Luo continuously wiped away the blood from the wound with a bandage, attempting to dress it, but Guarnere stopped him, gently patting his hand and saying, "Medical Officer Luo, it's no use, he's dead!" Guarnere extended two fingers and pressed them against Souce's carotid artery; there was no longer any pulse.
Medical Officer Luo's hand trembled, and then he turned to look at Souce. The light had left his eyes, replaced by a deathly gray. His body no longer even showed a slight tremor. Clearly, Guarnere was right—he was dead!
"Ah—" Medical Officer Luo frantically ripped off the bandages wrapped around Souce's body and threw them heavily onto the snow. He screamed at the German forces, "You bastards, you damned ones, why must you annihilate us? You devils, murderers, filthy clowns…" He cursed out almost every swear word he knew.
Guarnere squatted down and gently patted his knee, saying, "You did your best, Doctor. He was a soldier; he should have been prepared to die at any time!" With that, he reached into Souce's chest, pulled off his dog tags, looked at them in his hand, then patted Medical Officer Luo's shoulder, saying, "Hang in there, we all have to hang in there. The brothers still need you!" With that, he walked straight towards his own foxhole.
At this point, the German artillery fire had ceased. The forest, after a period of smoke and explosions, was exceptionally quiet. At this time, the shouts of the brothers to each other could faintly be heard: "Is anyone injured?"
"Guarnere, are you still alive?"
"Still alive, Luz, thanks for your concern. You protect your own nuts; shells don't have eyes!" Guarnere answered Luz's joke listlessly as he jumped into the foxhole, sat down with a thud, and then raised the dog tags again with both hands, examining them carefully.
"Whose are these? Souce?" Toy looked at the dog tags, his heart tightening involuntarily.
"Yes!" Guarnere murmured. Clearly, in normal times, he wouldn't even want to mention who Souce was, or even bother to get to know such a new recruit. But on the way into Bastogne, Guarnere had grown to like this soldier, not just because of his two packs of cigarettes, but because in the icy, snowy Bastogne, every brother made Guarnere feel at ease, made him feel that their existence was the existence of Easy Company.
The forest was filled with broken branches and some denuded tree trunks from the bombing, making the pure white snow somewhat dazzling. Aside from the shelling, the Germans did not launch an infantry assault. The Germans had unexpectedly stopped. Clearly, they were accumulating strength and waiting for reinforcements. After all, after being severely damaged by the First Battalion and the 10th Armored Division's Desobry Team, they no longer had the capacity for continuous attacks. Subsequent German reinforcements would gather here, and they would strike the American forces here because they believed that their defeat of the American First Battalion and the Desobry Team had already made the American defense line vulnerable.
The sky gradually darkened. At this time, the German infantry had not yet launched an attack. If night fell, the German offensive would have to wait until tomorrow. And by tomorrow, German reinforcements might also arrive. They could then launch a full-strength strike.
Night covered the forest. Parks quietly looked ahead, then looked at the somewhat tired Welsh beside him and said, "The German forces might attack tomorrow. What we need to do is prevent German infiltration tonight. Otherwise, we will be very passive!"
"I believe in our defensive foxholes!" Welsh turned to Parks and smiled, "Look at the German shelling today during the day; we basically suffered no harm. We were very well protected! Good heavens, Reese, the Germans are using 88mm cannons. And 105mm cannons. Their shells are like rain, but we held out!"
"A good foxhole is no match for a good soldier!" Parks shook his head at Welsh, saying somewhat somberly, "We still lost a soldier, soldier Souce. A new recruit, but he died in the first day's shelling in Bastogne."
"From Momion Camp or after Market Garden?" Welsh looked at Parks, then suddenly shook his head and said, "I'm not very familiar with those soldiers. They are new recruits, with many shortcomings, and they're not very good at some of the rules on the battlefield. But the veterans don't want to stay with them; all their combat experience has to be learned by themselves, time after time!"
"They are now experiencing a very cruel battle!" Parks nodded. "Harry, tomorrow will be a tough fight, but our only option is not to retreat, but to firmly pin this German unit here, to prevent them from occupying it. This is a strategic location. Perhaps the success or failure of the entire campaign depends on Bastogne!"
"I hope you're not right!" Welsh suddenly shook his head and laughed, "I'd rather this place be overlooked by the German forces than be a place they focus on. Damn it, our luck is always the best. We always fight the toughest battles in the toughest places!"
Parks said nothing more. His eyes remained fixed on the front. Although he could see nothing but some tree trunks, he was still somewhat lost in thought.
In the early morning, the air was even colder. Many of the brothers hiding in the foxholes were shrinking their necks, their hands tucked into their sleeves, looking out expectantly. The night was so quiet that only breathing could be heard.
Countless sharp whistles suddenly sounded in the air, followed by violent explosions and ground tremors. The German forces chose to launch another artillery barrage in the early morning. They wanted to harass the defending American forces with artillery fire, keeping them busy and exhausted, so they would have no energy to deal with the battle that was about to come tomorrow.
A shell struck a tree trunk with an explosion. The firelight was even more dazzling in the night, like fireworks set off on Christmas, beautiful and dazzling, yet causing immense pain!
Sergeant Talbert's voice faintly came through, "German shelling, take cover!" Then many other voices reminded the defending brothers around. The Sergeants played a very important role at the most critical moment. The shouts of Staff Sergeant Talbert and other Sergeants brought a sense of calm in the midst of a raging sea to many hearts.
This German shelling lasted for ten minutes, but these ten minutes were the most difficult to endure. It felt endlessly long. The artillery fire was more intense than during the day. All the brothers were tightly pressed into their foxholes, unable to even lift their heads. Even Sergeant Talbert didn't dare to stick his head out and shout at the brothers. He lay in the foxhole, constantly cursing, "Damn it, damn it!"
"Are the Germans going to attack tonight?" Welsh's body and neck were covered in mud, but he lay tightly, not daring to move for a moment. The artillery fire was simply too intense. He looked at Parks, who was also lying beside him, and shouted, "The Germans seem to be throwing everything they have into this!"
Parks nodded, also shouting back at Welsh, "I don't know what the Germans will do, but I know that if the Germans attack tomorrow, their artillery fire will be even more intense than this!"
The fireworks-like shelling gradually stopped. When everything around became silent again, the surrounding scenery gradually changed from blurry to increasingly clear—the sky was slowly brightening.
A new day had finally arrived.
A new day, dawn quietly arrived.
The brothers of Easy Company were waiting silently, having anticipated the German attack today.
They had also received a warning from Captain Parks, their company commander.
The German attack would be very powerful, and they would have to rely on the Parks Bunker for defense to achieve the best results.
Thick snow occasionally fell from the branches, some landing on the soldiers' bodies, heads, and necks, but they remained motionless, not daring to relax in the slightest.
They knew this would be a brutal battle.
The German, with the lingering prestige of victory and newly replenished strength, sought to break through Easy Company's defenses in one fell swoop, thereby achieving the goal of routing the American forces controlling Bastogne.
"Will the German come?" White asked Gordon beside him, a little anxious.
Even if death was pronounced, the taste of waiting for death was indeed difficult, and many people felt this way.
Gordon was leaning against the machine gun, his eyes fixed on the front line of defense.
He did not turn his gaze, only nodded and said, "The German will definitely come.
They defeated the First Battalion, and it is clear they will continue to attack, and we will heavily wound them here.
Although I also do not wish for the German to attack us, I have no choice!"
Yes, Gordon had no choice, and many in Easy Company were the same.
They waited anxiously in their hearts, every look and movement seemed to say, "When will the German come?".
The brothers did not fear battle, but waiting for battle indeed made one's mindset somewhat abnormal, thus causing all the brothers to focus their attention highly.
A sharp whistle sounded in the air with a "whoosh"—the German had started shelling again.
Clearly, this shelling came earlier, and just as Parks had predicted, it was more intense.
The snow-covered earth was lifted high, and the trunks of large trees were constantly being shattered by the German bombardment, falling and continuously smashing onto the bunker, shaking it so violently that all the brothers were terrified.
"Keep low! Keep low!" Someone was shouting loudly.
The Sergeants, even under intense artillery fire, maintained a strong sense of responsibility.
They constantly reminded the brothers around their bunker to take cover.
The German artillery fire lasted for a full twenty minutes, which caused the brothers extreme hardship.
Although the Parks Bunker provided excellent cover, some men were still wounded under the barrage of 88mm and 105mm artillery, though only lightly.
This was already the best outcome; if it had been ordinary foxholes, Easy Company would have suffered immeasurable losses.
"Damn it! Can't the German just attack us directly?
I don't want to be blown to bits by a shell without even seeing the German; that would be awful!" Welsh complained to Parks.
Clearly, he was losing patience with the German shelling.
Especially such intense shelling, it made one's nerves tense to the point of collapse, fearing that a shell would directly hit the bunker and they would be annihilated.
"Be patient, Harry!" Parks took out his binoculars and looked at the front line.
He had a hunch that the German attack would make it very difficult for the brothers, but he also had a feeling that with the advantage of the bunker and the brothers' fighting spirit, they would definitely hold off the German attack and repel them.
Suddenly, the snow underfoot trembled slightly.
Everyone's heart jumped, and they stared intently ahead.
The trembling of the ground made all the brothers highly focused.
This was the ground vibration caused by tanks moving, and it was the prelude to the German attack.
They were advancing towards Easy Company's defensive line under the cover of tanks.
"Everyone, attention! The German has started their attack!
We must hold the line firmly and not let them find an opportunity.
Stay alert!" The Sergeants' role in combat was evident.
Guarnere was shouting at the nearby brothers; clearly, they were the backbone of Easy Company, keeping the soldiers of Easy Company vigilant and full of fighting spirit.
White tightly gripped his M1 rifle, aiming through its sight at every target that seemed to be moving, but there was nothing yet in front.
Even though he was a veteran, he was still highly nervous; every battle was like this.
He had to concentrate and ensure he wouldn't be hit.
Veterans were all like this: first, they had to preserve their own lives, and then they would look for opportunities to strike the enemy.
Because for them, how to preserve their lives on the battlefield was the primary task.
The new recruits were much more nervous than the veterans.
Stenson and Vinnie were positioned at the outpost of the position.
They were responsible for observing German movements and, after initial contact with the German, quickly returning to the main position to defend alongside the other brothers of Easy Company.
With them were Heffron and Sabins.
Heffron had more combat experience than them; he was among the first batch of reinforcements for Easy Company, joining after the Normandy landings and participating in Operation Market Garden and the trench warfare on the island.
Vinnie was responsible for communication between the outpost and company headquarters; he managed the outpost's walkie-talkie, which was his strength.
"Tanks!" Heffron, holding his binoculars, looked at the snowy ground ahead, and suddenly two or three tanks appeared.
The foremost one, though moving slowly, could be identified as a German tiger from its low turret, followed by two light tanks.
Behind the tanks were German soldiers, wearing thick, long greatcoats, cautiously advancing with their rifles, following behind the tanks.
"tiger! Damn it!" Heffron cursed.
Clearly, the tiger tank had always been a shadow in the hearts of the American forces, even for the invincible Easy Company.
They had suffered great losses under the attack of these tanks.
Vinnie's mouth was wide open in tension; he felt his throat dry and tight.
Facing such a terrifying tank in his first battle, his face turned green, reflecting his fear.
He was so overwhelmed that he ignored Heffron's shouting at him.
"Damn it, report to company headquarters immediately!
The German has tiger tanks, and the attacking force is approximately one company!" Heffron yelled at him again, "If you don't contact them soon, we'll all be dead here, damn it!"
Seeing that Vinnie still hadn't moved, he directly kicked Vinnie in the backside, sending him stumbling, and then connected the walkie-talkie to company headquarters.
Vinnie was kicked over and came to his senses as if from a dream.
He cried out in panic and then tried to climb out of the bunker, but Heffron pulled out his pistol and pointed it at him, saying fiercely, "Vinnie, if you dare to step out of this bunker before me, I'll shoot you, you coward, you wimp!"
As he spoke, he connected with company headquarters.
After reporting the situation, the order he received was to withdraw.
"Let's go!" Heffron grabbed the trembling Vinnie, picking up his rifle that had fallen in the bunker.
"Damn it, now you can run, quickly, before the German takes us down."
"Retreat!" As Heffron and Vinnie climbed out of the bunker, they shouted at the brothers at the outpost, "We are retreating, we will slaughter them on the main position."
Vinnie's cowardice made Stenson look down on him a bit.
He had always considered himself an excellent paratrooper and did not want to show such a terrible state.
As he ran past Vinnie, he didn't even give him a direct look.
Parks saw the outpost soldiers retreating through his binoculars.
He did not want the thinly spread outpost to pay the price for the German attack.
After all, the German still had tanks, though not many, but for an all-infantry Easy Company, it was already a very powerful attacking force.
The outpost soldiers' retreat did not seem chaotic; he knew there were some new recruits among them, which also showed that Easy Company's brothers still had courage, and they were waiting to fight the German.
Easy Company had received resupply of weapons and ammunition, which was arguably the most important point Parks insisted on.
Now this was showing its superiority.
Parks had deployed multiple rocket launchers in the bunkers on both sides; although they couldn't directly destroy a tiger tank, if they directly destroyed the tracks of these tanks, then even a tiger would just be a tiger that couldn't move, ready to be slaughtered.
The color of the snow in the woods seemed darker than in the open ground.
The tiger tanks first entered the open area at the edge of the forest.
The German had deployed a total of three tiger tanks and five Panzer IV tanks as their vanguard.
The 88mm and 75mm cannons on the tanks appeared cold, eerie, and menacing against the white snow.
This made the German soldiers following behind feel a little more at ease.
"Where are the American?" This was Lanker's first question as he stepped onto the open ground.
If they were to defend, the moment they stepped into the open ground would be the best time for the American counterattack; the visibility was wide and clear, and everyone could almost become a living target.
Even with tanks, once they entered the woods, the opportunity would be lost.
Lanker was a new recruit who had been drafted just over four months ago; he had participated in the battle for Arnhem Bridge, which was his first battle.
As a new recruit, he was assigned to the retreating SS.
However, his age matched his time in the military; he was only seventeen years old.
He had dropped out of school, and while still in school, he had put down his pen and resolutely joined the army after a passionate and stirring speech by an SS Major.
Many classmates like him had enlisted together.
But only he and another classmate, Vikinco, a robust-looking classmate one year older than him, were able to join the SS.
Lanker's first battle was a brutal slaughter of the British.
They were ordered to attack the British defending the bridge, and the shelling alone lasted for half a day.
Then all they had to do was continuously pursue the British along their retreat route.
The battle went unexpectedly smoothly, making Lanker feel that fighting was truly an easy thing.
Even Vikinco was full of optimism.
Although the terrifying corpses along the way made Lanker vomit all the food in his stomach, he was full of anticipation for the battle.
Vikinco, moreover, was full of longing for battle; he yearned for every opportunity to go to the battlefield.
But soon they underwent a rest period and did not have the chance to participate in new battles.
However, the skirmishes with the American two days ago, and the deaths of his comrades beside him, made both of their moods unpredictable.
It seemed the American were not as easy to slaughter as in previous battles.
"Where are the American?" Lanker muttered again.
His voice caught Vikinco's attention; he was walking alongside him, about one or two meters away.
"God knows where the Americans are? They haven't attacked us, I hope they've all run away!" Vikinco said with a smile to Ranke, "Don't worry, Ranke, we will defeat the Americans!"
Ranke nodded, walking forward cautiously. There was another advantage to tanks leading the way: they might trigger infantry mines, allowing the infantry to avoid disaster. However, this didn't completely spare the infantry from mines, especially in such snowy conditions where the heavy snow covered everything, catching all the attacking German soldiers off guard.
"Boom—" An explosion occurred about twenty meters from Ranke, who instinctively hit the ground, thus avoiding potential injury. The American anti-personnel mines had a large blast radius. In this situation, everyone was cautious; if someone accidentally stepped on a mine, the first thing they did was tell their comrades to move away.
But what one feared most often came to pass. Suddenly, Ranke heard another desperate cry about ten meters away. Once a mine was stepped on, especially during an attack, the only people who could help were one's comrades. Soon, a comrade went to help the man. But before that German soldier could reach him, another explosion rang out. Ranke was pushed from behind, falling onto the snow. This time, he was again unharmed; it was Vikinco who pushed him.
The German soldier who tried to save the man was sprayed with steel balls from the bouncing mine's explosion, leaving bloodied holes all over his body. He tumbled and landed about two or three meters from Ranke. His eyes were hollow, one pierced by a steel ball, his body full of bloodied holes, a shattered, bloody mess.
"Ugh—" Ranke got up and saw the man's appearance, he couldn't help but gag. He knew this man; he was a veteran who often reprimanded people during training, but he was a good person and took care of new recruits. He was usually very amiable, but now he was just a bloody, mangled corpse, without life or dignity.
"Don't look, this is war!" Vikinco patted his shoulder. He also had to pull himself together now. If he were to step on a mine, he had prepared his own unique way of dying: he would use his body to press down on the mine, thereby preventing harm to others.
Ranke pursed his lips, nodded, and then cautiously followed. This open ground was a nightmare for the German soldiers; people constantly stepped on mines, and those around them suffered as well.
With a soft "click," Ranke suddenly felt his heart stop. Despite his extreme caution, he had stepped on a mine. A feeling of despair quickly spread through his body, his throat went dry, and then he turned his head and shouted to Vikinco: "I'm finished! Vikinco! I've stepped on a mine!"
Vikinco turned and saw Ranke standing in a strange, motionless posture; Ranke had stepped on a mine. He was suddenly startled, and then instinctively shouted loudly at Ranke: "Don't move, I'll help you."
"No—" Ranke suddenly yelled at Vikinco, "Don't come over, don't come over!"
Vikinco suddenly froze. He knew what Ranke meant; he didn't want him to die. But Vikinco would never watch Ranke die in front of him like that. They had been friends in school, and moreover, they had fought together, hunkered down in trenches, and covered each other in battle. If he watched Ranke die like this, he would never forgive himself.
"Don't worry, I'll find a way, you wait!" Vikinco put down his rifle and cautiously moved step by step towards Ranke. He and Ranke were already quite close, but the current situation made the four or five meters between them feel incredibly long. And Vikinco was trying to approach him step by step like this.
"Don't come over!" Ranke cried out desperately again, his voice choked with tears, "Tell my mom, tell her I love her! She's the person I love most in this world!"
"No—" Vikinco tried to dash forward a few steps, but he saw Ranke's body fall heavily onto the snow, pressing down firmly on the mine he had stepped on with his own body.
With a muffled "boom," the mine exploded, and the force of the explosion tore Ranke's body into pieces. Warm blood splattered onto Vikinco's face, and some fragmented bits of flesh stuck to his body. He was hit by the blast wave, which, though not very strong, was enough to knock him to the ground.
"Ranke—" Vikinco got up, mumbling, somewhat numb. His good friend, his brother with whom he had fought for several months, had just become a bloody, mangled corpse. And his body was still covered with the blood and flesh of this good friend, good brother. The fishy and salty smell made his stomach churn.
Vikinco could no longer hold back. He knelt on the ground, buried his head in the snow, and gagged repeatedly. He wanted to vomit everything in his stomach, constantly feeling as if Ranke's blood and flesh, stuck to his face, had accidentally been swallowed.
"Vikinco, get up, pick up your rifle and kill the Americans! They just killed your comrade, your brother! You're a brave man, don't be a coward!" Behind him was a Sergeant, holding a submachine gun, shouting loudly at Vikinco, "Wash away your hatred with American blood, make them go back!"
Vikinco struggled to get up from the snow. He had already vomited everything in his stomach, and the empty feeling in his stomach made his heart feel somewhat calm instead. He no longer felt afraid; his friend's death had stimulated him, making him view life and death as less important. This is war, this was a phrase he had said to Ranke. Now he was saying the same thing to himself. This is war, the more you fear death, the more death constantly gnaws at your heart, making you timid, afraid, cowardly, and ultimately vulnerable.
Easy Company's minefield caused over a dozen German casualties before the attack, and while it didn't make the German soldiers retreat, it did suppress their morale, making them sensitive and nervous. The short distance of one mile felt incredibly long under the German soldiers' feet. The forest was getting closer; they had already passed that damned mine-ridden area.
All the attacking German soldiers breathed a sigh of relief; now they would face the Americans head-on. tiger and Panzer IV tanks roared into the forest, and then an explosion was heard within the woods. All the German soldiers instinctively hit the ground, followed by a series of continuous explosions echoing through the forest, as huge tree trunks swayed and fell.
This was not artillery fire; the American explosions were aimed at the large trees in the forest. Huge tree trunks swayed and fell, then crashed down to block the tanks. Some large trees even landed directly on the tank turrets. Tree trunks lay haphazardly all around, encircling the tanks and blocking their path. Although the tanks could push through these fallen trees, too many trees had fallen, making it difficult for the tanks to turn. Just then, groups of people suddenly emerged from the snow on the tanks' flanks, carrying rocket launchers towards the tanks.
"Whoosh—" A dense volley of rockets flew towards the German tanks, followed by continuous explosions. The rockets accurately hit the tracks of the immobile German tanks, quickly disabling them. The German soldiers fired at the Americans carrying rocket launchers, but they quickly withdrew.
"Keep attacking!" The German Captain behind urged the German soldiers to continue advancing. They hadn't yet probed the American strength and couldn't retreat like this. Even without tank cover, they still had to complete this attack mission to test the American firepower.
The German soldiers moved cautiously, advancing deeper into the forest. The NCOs constantly exchanged hand signals and performed tactical cover movements. German soldiers relied on tree trunks and mutual cover from their comrades as they steadily pushed towards Easy Company's defensive line.
Vikinco was panting, constantly moving from one tree to another, then signaling an attack to his comrades nearby. The Americans hadn't opened fire; they seemed to be waiting for something, which gave Vikinco a strong sense of unease.
"Go!" Vikinco again moved behind a large tree, then signaled to the soldier behind the tree, indicating an attack.
"Bang—" A gunshot rang out. The soldier hadn't even poked his head out from behind the large tree when he was shot in the neck. His body suddenly went limp, one hand clutching his throat tightly, slowly slumping down behind the tree trunk, his rifle discarded to the side.
Vikinco was startled. He instinctively felt that the Americans had surrounded them; they seemed to be in front and all around. He quickly lay down in the snow, nervously looking around. If the Americans weren't all around, that soldier couldn't have been hit before even showing his head.
After a single gunshot, the Americans finally opened fire. Their firepower crisscrossed, forming one crossfire after another in the forest. This firepower firmly pinned the German soldiers in the forest. This was undoubtedly a nightmare. The Americans seemed to have emerged from underground; they wove a huge, inescapable net of firepower with machine guns, rifles, and mortars, and the German soldiers were like fish caught in the net, unable to struggle, either to be killed or to lie motionless in the snow.
"Mom—save me!" A German soldier, after being hit, let out a dying, piercing scream. But the sound was drowned out by the intense gunfire on the battlefield.
The German company's probing attack resulted in the loss of over fifty soldiers, as well as all their tiger and Panzer IV tanks.